Posehn – Grandpa Metal


Your eyes are not deceiving you. You, my darling reader, are most definitely reading an album review, on the mighty Bucketlist Music Reviews, for a heavy metal record of stonking proportions (albeit it satirical) known only as Grandpa Metal written by famed comedian and award-winning Shrek impersonator Brian Posehn fromSacramento, CA. Now before you get up in arms, yes, I know I just soiled the idea of your favorite three-dimensional animated character by likening him to a man who may very well have been birthed out of a mud sack a la Lord of The Rings. I’m also aware that I’ve just given a substantially high score to a fucking joke album, but make no mother fucking mistake ladies, gents, and whatever the hell else you wanna call yourself with love, this record fucking slaps. Here’s why.

Posehn is a man of a great many deep-seeded interests. From Nerdisms, to the consumption of cannabis, and of course the act of cannibalism upon lesser human beings. This work of art, however, isn’t about Star Wars, or getting stoned (literally or figuratively) or even about satiating the rudimentary munchies with the devouring of a small child, no this is about one of Brian’s oldest loves; Heavy mother fucking metal. Metal has shown us time and time over that seriousness doesn’t define quality. Acts the likes of Deathklok and Steel Panther have laid out records to contend with the titans themselves, but we’re talking about a different beast entirely here. What sets a metal-comedy crossover from any other genre is absolutely unbending law of face-melting. A metal record cannot come into existence without eternal suffering unless that bitch has made the necessary sacrifices of righteousness. Now, of course, you’re thinking I’m rambling and that’s fair, but that is what it is to be metal is it not? Perpetual longing for the days of old and excessive standards. 

Grandpa Metal is a beautifully written compilation of songs about ridiculous things, backed by some of the mightiest of legends in heavy metal history. Make no mistake; the actual content of this record is of the highest caliber of ridiculousness. If I needed a world where a song featuring Joe Trohman and Phil Demmel about Brian Posehn’s dick exists, I would have fucking asked, but that is not what this record is about. It’s about reaching into the depths of your subconscious and skull fucking it with the imagination of an incredibly funny human being while matching it with an insanely high-quality sonic experience and thus songs like “Big Fat Rock” exist (By the way Brian, I’d really like to stop hearing that chorus in my head now, if you could just fucking kill me that would be great). The same sentiment can be said for a variety of beautifully constructed tunes on this record. Take “New Music Sucks,” for example, as Posehn pulls of Patrick Stump making fun of his own fucking band, or “Goblin Love” featuring the satire metal king of all kings Brandon Smalls and the late great Jill Janus. This is not to mention the covers that you never knew you wanted, nay, needed in your life. When you finally do heed my words and give this masterpiece a listen you will doubt the existence of a metal rendition of “Take on Me” featuring some of the heaviest of vocal weights (Chuck fucking Billy of Testament just to name the one), but heed my words well naysayer, it’s pretty.

The list could go on and my fingers could go numb from all the hyperlinking, but the fact of the matter is this is a metal record of epic proportions, a comedy record that will leave you in stitches, and production by a dude that you probably underestimated in both worlds. Give Grandpa Metal the respect it deserves, and give yourself a solid self-reflection as to how much of a cunt you can be when you talk about music.

Written by Jason Greenberg
*Edited by Dominic Abate

About Jason Greenberg 172 Articles
On the first day, the Lord said "Let there be Bucketlist," and all of human kind then became aware of the incredulity or abysmally flaccid result on their attempt at Art. On the second day, the Lord said "Jason, go review that show you're going to on Friday," and begrudgingly, a review was made. What the world was for Jason Greenberg before that point is either completely unimportant or mildly pornographic, but the world of today after many years of serving his Queen has brought him opportunity, hardship, and a whole lot of Bucketlist patches on indiscriminate pieces of clothing. You may see him lugging your band's equipment and yelling at you aimlessly about the useless construct of time. You may see him expelling a noise not fully understood by humankind at the end of a microphone. You may even see him swimming in an ocean of poutine, but you will always see him as his true self, a sentient and obnoxious Bucketlist Music Reviews Billboard.

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