November 6, 2005
You know, it isn’t very often that a chord progression will make me vomit all over myself and go into a paroxysm of dementia. I mean, it happens with the occasional guitar solo and in some rare exceptions with a melodica, but aside from that it is an extremely hard reaction to invoke. Which makes Assacre all the more impressive in my book. However, if I were to describe Assacre (pronounced like massacre without the “m”) as a guy wearing a strange dinosaur mask pumping out thrash metal, I would not only be doing a great disservice to Assacre, but also a great disservice to you. Assacre is more than the sum of it’s own reality. Its is also that feeling you get when you jump down a flight of stairs at night, or when you wrestle your friend (the fat sweaty one), or when you punch your personal valet in the face so hard that his teeth lacerate your knuckles. It could also be explained as an effervescent sphere of energy floating above the tombs of eighty-one pharaohs, all arranged in the shape of a beautiful giant bird flapping it’s enormous wings. I don’t know what it is about Assacre that so perfectly seizes the zeitgeist of the 21st century so far, but suffice it to say: its very endearing. So go to the Assacre website to purchase the album “Fantastic Illusions Worth Dying For”. I have to go… I hear a melodica. - renan
