What’s in a name? that which we call a riff by any other name would stank as sweet.
As you can probably tell by the fact that the Masterlord has never once cracked open a single book of Shakespeare in his life, the caped crusader’s ditziness prevailed over his duty, leaving me yet again in charge of Riff of the Week on a deadline. Curse the Masterlord and his sexy, forgetful brain.
Anyway, last week some schlub won with fruit hanging so low that the lack of that fruit caused a great famine in Ireland so severe that famed satirist Jonathan Swift penned a humorous piece endorsing infanticide as a means of feeding the masses. Great job on starving an entire nation by robbing them of their low-hanging potato fruit, Elegant Gazing Globe.
Next week is just a regular 2016 riff week. If you’ve been holding onto something special for a rainy day, whip it out. Send it to email@example.com with your name, the time stamp, and a description. I’m sure the Masterlord will forget to include it anyway.
This week, we’re changing tack and talking about riffs that bring the stench. Whose riff is the most likely to choke a donkey?
The riff at 0:49 smells like this gif.
Can you feel the smell of your hair burning? Yep, that’s Testament ignites like nobody’s business.
Stay stankin’, y’all. ~@3:06
A scent-invoking cover of a most foul and stinky Linkin Park riff, which already invokes the scent of Manic Panic and sweaty Jnco pants. Riff starts at 1:34
Tom Warrior’s Beanie
In 2006 Deicide were mostly written off. The Hoffman brothers had departed in ignominiously acrimonious fashion and Glen Benton was the new vocalist for Vital Remains. So it surprised pretty much everyone when they dropped a near masterpiece in the form of The Stench of Redemption. The nominated riff is the harmony at the 2 minute mark but is best experienced in the context of the entire song. Also bear witness to the exhilarating solo courtesy the criminally underrated Ralph Santolla.
SONG ABOUT GOOD SMELLING GERMAN LADY!!!! RIFF @ 0:17
Beginning at about 1:50: “Heartily whiff a myriad of stenches. Putrescine platters brought forth by wenches. Cruor bullion, the soup du jour. Into tankards, claret is poured. Crapulous carousing, the de rigueur.
NOW. CHARLESTON CHEWS YOUR WINNER!