Artwork used with permission from Neverland Music Inc.
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Avian
"From the Depths of Time"
Rating:
Reviewed by:
Beppo Blitzkrieg
Where do bass players go when they get fired? Think about it. It’s not like the world needs their stupid asses much anyway. If you need somebody to play bass on your album, the guitar player can do it, and if you need to tour – then there’s Steve DiGiorgio to fill in.
So where do they go? These poor fired, un-banded, lonely ass motherfuckers? To a farm upstate? On tour with LA Guns?
No, they form, or join little bands to realize musical visions that were most unfortunately thwarted by the limits of their instrument, while in their previous outfits. Uh-huh. Yeah, right. You play the fucking bass, motherfucker. It’s supposed to sound like that. Bom-bom-bom-bommeli-bom. That’s it. Doesn’t make you fucking Mozart, now does it? Bite the bullet and grin and bear the fact that you’re the most expendable motherfucker since Ringo Starr, without the fun-factor.
And lo and behold! I am always right. Jason Newsted went from being a bass God in Flotsam and Jetsam, releasing with them one of the best thrash albums of all time, “Doomsday for the Deceiver”, to playing the second (millionth) fiddle to Cliff’s ghost in Metallica to joining first Echobrain and then a dying (pun intended – I am sick like that – RIP Piggy) Voi Vod. What the fuck? Too good for LA Guns? Motherfucking Ratt might be looking too, you know! There are even two of them to choose between! Dumbass. His career plummeted down into the abyss like some dead squid, and we’re all better off without him.
We can retire the memory of Jason Newsted to that farm upstate. His reason to be taken seriously has expired. Buh-bye now, motherfucker.
That leaves Dave Ellefson.
Where the fuck did he go after Megadeth? What amazing musical endeavour did he embark upon? Well, there was F5, and… No. I am not shitting you. F5. That was him. Oh, you never heard the fuckers? Well, neither did most, and let’s just say you’re better off that way.
So to take revenge for past crappiness he has now joined the Almighty glory of the band Avian. No, Avian… I am not shitting you! THE Avian. Oh, you never heard of them? Then let me tell you all about them:
Gay power metal, poorly arranged, predictably written, crappily produced, easily overshadowed by exactly 4,876 other Power Metal bands out there.
Good guitar player though, if you could get over his overly processed fucking guitar sound. Have you ever been to a guitar clinic where some poor motherfucking guitar hero had to showcase some shitty product that bears his name, and that he would never be caught dead playing for real? He still sits there playing all this fantastic stuff, but it comes out sounding like shit because of the little weak ass effect Gadget of the Hour. That’s what this guy sounds like. Like he should be at a clinic somewhere. (Like me, but different clinic.)
The whole band, Avian – in case you’re taking notes - sounds like that no-talent local spandex metal band that opens up for motherfucking Gothic Knights at the strip mall dive bar around the corner. Yes, that fucking good. Ellefson’s bass is put way up there in the mix, so that we can all enjoy the wonderful playing that is his poor man’s Steve Harris impersonation, and so we can all rejoice in the fact that THE MAN IS BACK!
BLURGH!
I am gonna go listen to “Countdown to Extinction” and drink to David Ellefson’s memory, before I retire him to that farm upstate as well.
Dumbass.
