BOOZE AND SLUDGE: A MATCH MADE IN HELL

Minnesota & Wisconsin have a hell of a lot of great sludge, doom, and post-metal bands, and I was trying to think of a fun way to tell you all about them when inspiration struck: BOOZE! Not only are Tom Hillman and Sean Tobin both bartenders at my favorite haunts and hangs, but they’re both in sweet, heavy-as-fuck bands! I asked them to invent a drink for one another’s bands and a few of their other favorites. The delicious/dangerous results are below!

WARNING: Neither Sean, nor Tom, nor MetalSucks is responsible for any short-term memory loss due to the consumption of these drinks, nor for any blown eardrums sustained while listening to top-tier Midwestern sludge.

Sean Tobin// Guitarist of Lungs

“Earthrise on the Moon”  (Earthrise)

One pint quality porter, preferably with a high alcohol content and a robust flavor profile

Sweet vermouth

Anti-matter particles (to taste)

1.  Add equal parts robust porter and anti-matter with ice in cocktail shaker.

2.  Shake gently.  Be careful not to disturb the delicate and unknowable matrices that hold together the very world upon which we live.  It is a tenuous balance between existence and annihilation, and the arrogance and ignorance of mankind will not soon learn of its mysteries.

3.  Pour over rocks with a splash of sweet vermouth, provided our world and all we hold dear has not been erased by a singularity.

The “Earthrise on the Moon” is perhaps the rarest cocktail on the planet as it can only be mixed by the talented mixologists at CERN.  These highly trained specialists are only capable of such feats of incredible libation prowess after exhaustive studies and intensive years spent at exclusive private academies.

Pairs well with suffocating oppression juxtaposed with mercurial melodies and undulating grooves, especially when sporadically interrupted by bolts of shredding lead guitars and unearthly wails emitted from no discernible source.

“Slow-Blow-Me”  (Svoboda)

A dollop of farm-fresh, organic honey

One half pint of frothy milk, straight from the farm (vegan option available)

Lemon rind and flower-blossom-shaped lemon peel

Homemade simple syrup (recipe found on pages 23-7)

One and one half ounce Prairie Vodka, certified organic and locally distilled

A grip of homemade granola

1.  Muddle lemon rind with simple syrup until texture is consistent

2.  Shake vodka and liqueur with ice until chilled

3.  In a highball glass, pour contents of shaker over ice, then add milk

4.  Finish with honey, and garnish with lemon peel and granola

This delicious summer beverage will be a surefire success at your next barbeque or work gathering.  The refreshing taste and locally gathered fresh ingredients are sure to cement your reputation as a master mixer around your home and office!  The admiring gazes from your beautiful wife and precocious children will transform into stares of disbelief and revulsion as you tear open your polo shirt to reveal a crude rendering of a goat’s head painted there with the blood of your beloved household pet, Sniffles.

As you declare your undying loyalty to Our Dark Lord, consider abruptly playing deafening  metal with war-drum tom rolls, immovable slabs of guitar, and a low end that resonates deep within the Earth’s core and maybe causes some earthquakes or some shit.  As your neighbors scatter like roaches in the light, powerful voices rise up from times long past, and you grin smugly as you realize the noise levels far exceed the limits set in place by the neighborhood home owner’s association.

” The Synapse”  (Nerves)

1,200 volts at approximately 20 pulses per second

5 milligrams of alprazolam

A worn shoulder bag containing only a rusted hacksaw and a miniature tracking device ingeniously sewn into its liner

One pint of Old Thompson, for courage

1.  Avoid capture from a vastly wealthy but deranged nobleman.  His lordship is determined to  capture you, and boasts loudly of his intent to maim and kill you with his elephant gun.

2.  After a blast from your captor’s non-lethal weaponry, you regain consciousness and try to  fight the rising panic.  You have been captured.  Swallow the alprazolam with generous gulps of Old Thompson.  Take comfort knowing your head will look quite smart when mounted above a rosy fire cackling merrily in the hearth of your assassin’s beautifully-appointed parlor.

The “Synapse” is a unique alcoholic endeavor: it is so thrilling that many patrons simply run screaming through the densely wooded terrain, desperately scrambling up this foothill or across that stream in a courageous yet ultimately vain attempt to escape their cunning predator.

While attempting to cut through your shackles with the flimsy saw, you might imagine rapid fire percussion, slashing guitar figures, and plaintive vocals as a source of motivation for you as you try to escape your bonds and once again taste freedom.  You reflect upon this music’s ability to produce excellent songs even as they display praiseworthy technicality.  You allow hope into your heart for the first time since the day of your capture.  In truth, you know you will die upon the grounds of that great manor, but the others say I must remain hopeful.  How many days has it been?

“PBR”   (Witchden)

Several cases of PBR

1.  Open first case of Pabst Blue Ribbon.  Lovingly extract one, cradle its sweet cylinder in your arms, reflect on your past failures and successes, and consider those to come, then drink the can dry in 30 seconds or less.

2.  Continue the whirlwind romance between beer and human until the giddy, dizzying honeymoon days are over, and you are left with what can only be described as “gastric distress”.

To drink a shit ton of Pabst does not mean you don’t appreciate a painstakingly wrought craft beer.  It does not mean you can’t enjoy a few fingers of Glenfidditch as you lounge about in your richly-appointed library.  Your palette is expertly honed, your taste impeccable.  Your proclivity to bang your head to groovy stoner metal, with badass riffs for days and raw-as-heck vocals, while slamming PBR like it won’t even exist upon our plane of existence come sunrise does not denote a lack of class or sophistication.  It simply means you love the shit out of that stuff.  Let’s go to the desert and celebrate the things we love by burning the things we hate.

Tom Hillman//Vocalist of Earthrise

“The Morality Crisis”

12 oz Mickey’s malt liquor

¾ oz Orange Juice

¼ gram Crack Cocaine

1 Tsp Maple Syrup

1 ¼ oz rail whisky

The Morality Crisis is an interesting bouquet of flavor. The creamy texture of malt liquor mixes delicately with the sweet orange juice from concentrate. I once saw Jordan bring his own bottle of Mickey’s into a venue and drink it onstage, even making a spectacle of it. That bar did not even sell Mickey’s, and I found it to be very manly of him.

To round out a perfect Lumberjane breakfast, add a dash of maple syrup and cheap whiskey. This will ensure a sticky composure, and lead to questionable life choices.

To survive 12 hours of drinking at the Trend Bar, you’ll need to be in the same mindset as the patrons there. Stirring in ¼ gram of Crack will provide just the right kick to survive the crack rock holocaust.

“Lungs”

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1 oz Jagermeister

½ oz Midori Melon Liqueur

1 oz pineapple juice

1 oz 7up

1 Tsp cream

1 Tsp Grenadine

Pour all ingredients into a tall glass. do not mix, let the ingredients settle naturally to give a dark, ominous mixture of colors.

Garnish:

1 fake moustache (attach to side of glass)

*1 oz Rumplemintz

*1 brush ups on-the-go toothbrush

*on the side

With lungs, You get a nice mixture of calming atmosphere with your loudness. To compliment this, I made a drink which would look intriguing with its array of colors from dark to light. It starts tasting sweet, but when you think all is safe, suddenly the Jagermeister kicks in and you are enveloped in a world of blackness that leaves you craving more. Bonus, with a bushy fake moustache attached to the side of the glass you look as good as my guy Mr. Tobin with each sip.

Why the side of minty goodness you might ask? This is Lungs. We need to have flavor, but still have fresh breath flowing out from us. Take a shot of Rumplemintz to clear things out. Freshen up with the toothbrush and floss. This way, every breath you breathe heavily on the scantily clad women at the bar will smell like a dream, and you’re 100% guaranteed to get some.

“The Poney”

1 ½ oz Absinthe (the real stuff, not the knock off US garbage)

¾ oz Cannabis Simple Syrup

1 oz sprite

1 oz sour

Splash of Cranberry Juice

Garnish:

2 Beef sticks

1 marijuana joint

Tropical drink umbrella

Poney sounds like a bunch of hippies who gave up being freegans and picked up huge bass cabinets. They turned to the darkness of metal, while keeping their free-love mindset intact. This beverage will ensure a proper ambience to take in their great new effort, “Rorschach”. Proper consumption would begin with the lighting, and partaking of the marijuana cigarette. Then placing the tropical umbrella in your hair so you look pretty. Why the Beef sticks you might ask? Munchies, bro. Careful planning for a wild, trippy ride through this refreshment. Once you have proper cotton mouth, slowly sip or chug this beverage. The Cannabis simple syrup provides a great alternate to the usual sugar cube process, with the dash of Cranberry making things go down nicely.  Once you have consumed all of your joint and beverage, put on Rorschach, and chip away at your beef sticks. Poney’s smooth, yet heavy jams will take you on a pleasant journey through the Absinthe wild.

“The Northless”

16 oz whisky

dash bitters

2 live grenades

Pour whiskey into a glass and place on the table in front of you.

Pull the pins on two grenades, and place next to the whiskey.

Down the glass of whiskey quickly in one drink, and then grab a grenade in each hand and place them next to your ears.