Chris Krovatin is the author of three young adult novels,

With death metal and hardcore leading the mall-promoted face of metal (or whatever the fuck people under 20 care about these days, God, I need a drink), breakdowns have become a staple point within the genre. Every dude who likes swinging a ham-sized fist around for no reason spends much of any metal concert waiting for that moment when things slow down and he can stomp around like a violent turtle. There’s even an entire genre now, “deathcore” that seems to be composed entirely of breakdowns. Chug-chug, slam-slam, we all love a good breakdown.

What aren’t always given their due, however, are speed-up parts, the moment where a mid-paced song bursts into a thrash section and some dude in the pit is given the go-ahead to hold up his index finger and spin it around, signaling the much-loved circle pit. I’ve always adored these moments, when a normal song explodes into a barrage of speed and aggression, as I’m much more of an old-school mosher, the running and slamming and freewheeling type, than the modern karate-kicking dance majors who so often populate the pit during a breakdown. So, to honor both the quick and the deadly (and to piss off scene bros and kvltists alike), here is my list of the Six Best Breakdowns and Speed-Ups.

The Six Best Breakdowns:

1. Pantera, “Domination” Aw, man, the original. Dimebag’s guitar breaks off of that pained wail and rolls right into that steady chug, eventually topped with insane weedling unlike any heard before. Tough as nails, catchy as Hell—the breakdown all others aspire to.

2. Slayer, “Raining Blood” The end of this classic Slayer track is a perfect example of a breakdown that makes a song. With its melodic variation on the opening riff coupled by the neck-snapping rhythm it stomps into, this manages to be both brawny and deeply evil at once.

3. Hatebreed, “Before Dishonor” If there was ever a breakdown to beat on one’s chest to, it’s that of “Before Dishonor.” Jamey Jasta bellowing, “WHAT I HAVE IN MY HEART, I’LL TAKE TO MY GRAVE” helps. Easily the most macho of the breakdowns on this list.

4. Lamb of God, “Now You’ve Got Something To Die For” Just beating that of “Black Label,” the breakdown closing “Now You’ve Got…” is the bottom line for metal kids who want to absolutely lose their shit in the pit. Randy Blythe’s roar over its opening is truly breathtaking.

5. Sepultura, “Propaganda” To be a stand-out breakdown on a record this chuggy and mid-paced takes some stones, but Sepultura pull it off without issue. It’s especially notable given how well it closes one of the faster songs on the record, and does so in a solid swoop, not a fade-out.

6. Anthrax, “Indians” Two words: WAR DANCE!

Band of note: Dying Fetus I really wanted to include a Dying Fetus track on this list, but every attempt at finding the right song made me think, Is this an actual breakdown, or just a Dying Fetus part? Let me take this moment to say that Dying Fetus are kings of the death-metal breakdown, and much of the modern obsession with breakdowns is their doing.

The Six Best Speed-Ups:

1. Lamb of God, “Ruin” Ye-hess. The moment where this song breaks into an off-kilter thrash part is absolutely obliterating and totally satisfying. If you listen to this song and your fist doesn’t begin pumping at this speed-up moment, you’re not doing it right. The sound of someone’s breaking point.

2. Cannibal Corpse, “Stripped, Raped, and Strangled” This Cannibal classic begins with a plodding, heavy-handed riff, but then breaks into a panicked whirlwind of guitar leads and drums that perfectly expresses the insanity of its protagonist. This is how a speed-up can be used as a consistent part, and subsequently craft a song into something better than it once was.

3. Slayer, “Postmortem” Not only is the sudden change in tempo of this song impressive, but the sudden speed applied to the sudden barrage of wordy lyrics—“My sinful glare at nothing holds thoughts of death behind it”—showcases Tom Araya’s vocal versatility. Look, just tell me this: DO YOU WANT TO DIE?

4. Guns N’ Roses, “Paradise City” Oh yeah—even the glamor boys got in on the speed. The sudden supercharged ending of this track takes the main riff and throws it on its head with a big dose of Lemmy. Didn’t think you could mosh to GN’R? Think again.

5. The Crown, “Devil Gate Rider” This Swedish death-metal classic, guest starring Tomas Lindberg of At the Gates, is the best song about drag-racing in Hell that has ever existed. And when it speeds up, you can basically see a checkered flag dropping and smell rubber burning. BORN! TO! RACE!

6. Mercyful Fate, “A Dangerous Meeting” Though not as much a thrash part as the speed-ups above it, the acceleration of “A Dangerous Meeting” ups this chug-along Satanic metal song’s cred, and probably inspired every black-metal band, ever. 

Chris Krovatin is the author of three young adult novels,

It is rare that great albums have great covers. On the odd instance they do, something beautiful occurs, a perfect coupling of music and imagery that cements that record into your mind. But plenty of incredible records have lame faces forward. For every British Steel, there is an Ace of Spades. For every South of Heaven, there is a Bonded By Blood. Sometimes, the lack of an awesome cover makes the album even better–a mind-blowing collection of songs with a solidly “Meh” cover makes the music even cooler, as it stands on its own without the help of flashy graphics. Most importantly, a bad album with a bad cover is the worst thing in the world and should be treated as such. Maybe the “Black Album” doesn’t look as good as Master of Puppets, but we all know Lulu can go fuck itself.

This year in metal was no different than any other. Some bands blew our minds with the evocative imagery, and some really shat the bed in full-force. Of course, underground bands with more investment in actual art took the lead, creating awesome weird cover art that speaks to creative souls, while mainstream artists on major labels pumped out cliché and over-produced pieces of hackneyed crap (though in the case of Tankard, you can’t even blame the big record companies–they just chose poorly). So if you consider yourself an artistic soul or a philistine, enjoy my Six Best and Worst Metal Album Covers of 2012. Damn your eyes.

The Six Best Metal Album Covers of 2012:

1. Sigh, In Somniphobia I wish I could even begin to describe what the fuck is going on here. The way I’m seeing it, the elderly aristocrat is pregnant with her eighth dead baby, and everyone at the Italian outdoor market is overjoyed about it. Incredible, but fuck, man.

2. Black Breath, Sentenced To Life This is like a cooler version of those old Exciter album covers—a single hand, leather-clad, coming out of the darkness and smashing the fourth wall with a sledgehammer. The image is both awesome on its own and a perfect representation of the album’s general atmosphere. Brutal.

3. Lord Mantis, Pervertor Here’s what I’m getting: Christ is in Hell, and a number of corpse-faced ambulatory cocks are using their barbed tongues to explore his newly created vagina. Is…is that what’s going on here? Because if that’s it, I’m really not sure whether I should be overjoyed or very, very worried.

4. Six Feet Under, Undead Not only was Undead a solid and entertaining death-metal album, but it had an absolutely incredible cover, with a whirling mind of evil meat perfectly illustrating the inner workings of the zombie. Finally, these guys figured it out.

5. The Howling Wind, Of Babalon Drawn by the inimitable Tony Roberts, this creeping and sinister cover exudes a sense of organic black magic that many fans dream of. It’s one of the few recent album covers that features a naked woman which doesn’t immediately seem corny to me.

6. Kreator, Phantom Antichrist Wes Benscoter, king among death-metal album artists, has done it again with this twisted, over-the-top illustration of…well, the Phantom Antichrist, I guess? Once again, it’s probably a good sign that I have no exact idea what’s happening here, I just want in.

Honorable mentions: The Northless/Light Bearer split for its creepy electric doom priests, and the Horseback/Locrian split for its giant woodland vagina castle.

The Six Worst Metal Album Covers of 2012:

1. Tankard, A Girl Called Cerveza BLECCH. Nevermind that Tankard’s thrash paeans to beer have gone a little flat over time—this cover is beyond hideous. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve all drank enough to flirt with a broad like this, but ugh. Why would you even. GYAH.

2. Geoff Tate, Kings and Thieves I promise, as much as I find Geoff Tate a ridiculous cornball, I won’t make fun of his album cover if it’s—oh, wait, it’s a confused mess reminiscent of 2008 with its fleur de lis and ravens. Is the one raven stuck? How does this relate to the album? Man, you’re batting a thousand, Geoff.

3. In This Moment, Blood Remember what I said about naked chicks in the last list? Case in point. Between teasing us with naked women that are then weird mannequins and showcasing Maria Brink (are there other members to this band?), In This Moment lost the plot with this album cover. Cool title—wish you’d done something here with it. So the record’s about what? Boobs or crows?

4. Ministry, Relapse Whelp, sometimes the mighty fall far. The gods of metallic industrial have graced us with the image of a fat, foaming-at-the-mouth ODing metal dude in a…church? Or something? Ugh. This

5. Adrenaline Mob, Omerta BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! Guys, let’s not do this. Everything going on here has been done better by bands like Volbeat and Chrome Division. The rings on the skeletons finger only make me think of some jackass rapper, any jackass rapper. And the devil/angel girl card? Grow the fuck up.

6. Yngwie Malmsteen’s Rising Force, Spellbound What. An. Asshole.

Chris Krovatin is the author of three young adult novels,

• Location of this death-metal show: A small cruise ship making a large loop around the East River.
• Reason for this venue: Anyone’s guess. Must have been cheaper than playing B.B. King’s.
• Plus side: The ship is small, so it’s like a intimate club show, a la L’Amour.
• Amount of time before the show that I knew it existed: Two hours, 40 minutes.
• General feeling while navigating floating walkways to the ship: This is some Dethklok shit right here.
• Tagline for the night: If you go to one death-metal show this year that actually moves under the Manhattan bridge…
• Temperature outside tonight: Cold as tits.
• Temperature within the ship: Hot as balls.
• Number of metalheads in attendance: Approximately 80.
• Number of female metalheads in attendance: Six. Maybe eight.
• Missed connections section of this blog: You: black hair, a little shorter than me, round face, sleeveless shirt, possibly Asian. Me: inappropriate collared shirt—I came from work—soaked with sweat. Did we have an unspoken moment? Probably not.
• Odds of meeting a woman at a Cannibal Corpse show who is not there with her likely-terrifying boyfriend: 4,206/1
• Price of a Budweiser aboard the ship: $5
• Sad reality: That’s really not that bad for a beer in New York. Maybe more metal bands should book these cruise shows.
• Other refreshments: Free ziti buffet.
• I’m sorry, what?: A free baked ziti and Caesar salad buffet. Again, this cruise concert thing might have to happen more often.
• First up: Misery Index from Bodymore, Murderland.
• Sounds like: Two parts old-school grindcore, one part brutal groovy death metal, all with a coating of political outrage and misanthropic disgust.
• Sad realization: With the bands playing at floor level and everyone jammed up front, you maybe get to actually see one band member for about 20 seconds.
• New experience of the night: Moshing on a boat.
• Noteworthy fact: A boat’s rocking can throw your mosh rhythm all off. It’s infuriating.
• Favorite song of the set: “The Seventh Cavalry” with its slow, muscular crush.
• Best piece of merch available: It forever shall be the Cannibal Corpse ‘I Cum Blood’ thong.
• Best thing to hear directly behind you before a Cannibal Corpse set: “I might ralf.”
• Next: Cannibal Corpse from Tampa, Florida.
• Sounds like: Entrails, ripped from a virgin’s cunt.
• Crowd reaction: Cauldron of hate, rotten body landslide, pit of zombies.
• Huge realization: Now that I see him on the ground, vocalist George “Corpsegrinder” Fisher is not eight feet tall with flaming bile pouring out of his eyes. Go figure!
• Incredible stage banter: “How’s everyone doing in the back? I mean, I hope good, but I can only see three people from down here, and no one’s going anywhere, so…”
• New classics: “Evisceration Plague” and the absolutely neck-wrecking “Scourge of Iron.”
• Old favorites: “Covered in Sores” and “Fucked aith a Knife.”
• Least favorite dude in the pit: The guy in the hat who likes to grab my shoulder and use me as a post to balance himself so he can do his karate kicks.
• Oh look: After doing his kung fu moves and getting tossed around, he’s coming back to use my shoulder a second and third time! Jackass.
• Classic closers: “Hammer Smashed Face” and “Stripped, Raped, and Strangled.”
• Unpleasant aromas experienced post-show: Everyone, the harbor, my balls.
• Drop-off point: 23^rd and FDR Drive. Great, now I get to walk the seven avenue blocks in the cold to the R train.
• Regrets: None.

Chris Krovatin is the author of three young adult novels,

One of the best parts of Halloween is dressing up like something you don’t often get to be in your everyday life—be that a monster, pun, or sexpot—and parading around town, reveling in that borrowed personality. That’s why Halloween will always have an aspect of the insane to it: because everyone is someone else, thriving behind their masks and cloaks in a life they’ll abandon by sun-up. Of course, this has been taken in dangerous directions, especially with the Sexy _____ market. My philosophy, being a metalhead, has always been, “Gore, not whore.” However, this is a night where people get to be what they want, so who am I to shoot their ideas down?

Answer: Chris fucking Krovatin, that’s who. Because honestly, some costumes never work. Every so often, someone you know does a semi-decent job at pulling them off, but overall, they’re garbage. More so, there are some costumes no one does, but which are so awesome it hurts. And then, finally, there are the classics, the costumes that most people should just rotate through every couple of years. So if you’re feeling undecided, use this handy guide to help you pick your costume this October 31. Here, fear-mongers, is my second Halloween-edition triple six, with the Six Halloween Costumes That Never Work, the Six Halloween Costumes that I Wish People Wore More Often, and the Six Timeless Classic Halloween Costumes.

The Six Halloween Costumes That Never Work

1. Werewolf Torn flannel shirt? Check. Ripped jeans? Got ‘em. Fully functional wolf-human hybrid head? Oh wait, those don’t exist on the open market. Enjoy your mask or not-cool-and-gory prosthetic.
2. Mummy Don’t get me wrong, there are bad mummy costumes: skintight white gauze that makes you look like Darkman on Ice, or a weird striped jumpsuit with some dangling tatters. But really, why not just be List 3, Item 5?
3. Jack Skellington Sorry, goth brother, but that shit always looks chunky and awkward. Jack is the world’s spookiest stick figure, and you drank four Michelob Ultras last night. Ain’t happening.
4. Mr. Hyde Edward Hyde looks like the evil side of a good man, the distilled darkness that resides within the darkest recesses of a good man’s soul. You look like Monkey McMuttonchops out on the town in foggy old London. It’s a nice idea.
5. Ghost What do you go for? A sheet? White clothing and skull lines of your face? Some Jacob Marley-ass chains? It never works. Ghosts are awesome in stories, movies, and video games, but you can’t make yourself transparent, and scaaary voices sound retaaarded.
6. King Diamond Every year, I see a number of people rocking this outfit, and the truth is, it never looks good. I mean, unless you’ve got the pipes for it, you’ll never be King Diamond. Besides, he’s King Diamond so you don’t have to be.

The Six Halloween Costumes That I Wish People Wore More Often

1. Witchfinder General The original holy terror! Matthew Hopkins, England’s Witchfinder General, murdered countless young women in the name of Christ. But while it’d be fun to get all Exodus 22:18 on motherfuckers, you’d also spend the whole night getting asked if you were a pilgrim.
2. Hunchback I mean, I get why it’s not done. Either you do it half-assed so you can drink and maybe bone someone, or you do it full hog and end up being the stooped-over uncomfortable goon all night at the party. But it’s a cool costume, you have to admit.
3. Tetsuo The antagonist from the classic anime comic Akira is a scary and iconic figure in the sci-fi world, and would make an awesome Halloween costume. I was going to do it this year, but I just don’t have the body type for it, and really didn’t want to hear anyone use the phrase “Fatsuo.”
4. Bat Not a vampire. Not a gargoyle, or some kind of…Deviant Art demon. A bat. Maybe do the ears, and, if you’re a baller, the gross vagina-esque leaf nose. But just be a bat, OK? Just. A fucking. BAT.
5. Cthulhu It’s hard to convince your friends that sitting on a bas relief all night and maybe rising up from your sunken city to devour the world would be the illest. But man, if someone busted out a truly solid Cthulhu costume, I’d give them props.
6. Baron Samedi This is actually a totally doable costume—the voodoo loa of the dead wears a tattered suit and tails, a top hat, and some glasses with one eye busted out. It’s a shame that he’ll forever be remembered as a Bond villain.

The Six Timeless Classic Halloween Costumes

1. Witch Nothing says “Halloween” like an old woman who fucks the Devil. Whether you’re doing the Oz-style pointed hat or the Macbeth-ish stooped crone, the witch remains a classic in the Halloween pantheon. Variation: Gypsy.
2. Devil Halloween, we should remember, is a day when the fabric between our world and the world beyond is at its thinnest, allowing diabolical forces to slip through. Red-clad forces, with pencil mustaches, that want bite-size Snickers bars. Technically the most metal costume. Variation: The Man.
3. Skeleton The original. For some reason, a walking set of bones remains a classic terror for mankind. But more importantly, a black outfit painted with bones remains an iconic image for the best day of the year. Variation: Grim Reaper.
4. Vampire Creature of the night, clad in black, ready to swoop down upon your village and enact a series of sexual metaphors you’ll never forget. A little white paint, some red dribble, and some wax teeth, and bam!—looking good, Dracula. Variation: A FUCKING BAT, GODAMMIT.
5. Zombie For the gorier horror fan, nothing is as simple and wonderful as the living dead—and given the recent zombie craze, you can buy all sorts of insane shit these days, intestines and lips-eaten-away mouth prosthetics and more. Variation: Zombie anything. “Zombie” is the new “sexy.” We’re them. They’re us.
6. Pirate There’s a reason “pirate” was an iconic Halloween costume before that Johnny Depp franchise: Pirates are fucking scary. They slaughter innocent sailors before jamming their syphilitic cocks into the stab wounds. Yarr, man. Variation: Popeye. 

Chris Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels,

Hey, Skid Row, man, it’s Chris, how are you? What? Oh, I’m fine, thanks. Nah, no, I’ve really been a stranger lately. What? Well, yeah, that’s why I’m calling… Come on, man, don’t be like that. So, yeah, OK, yes, some people have seen me around town with Bjork, but it’s not… No, look, it’s not about you! She’s just helping me sort some personal shit out, OK? It’s hard, just booting and rallying over and over, buying all these tight jeans and gold chains—sometimes I just have to sigh in a warehouse apartment somewhere, OK? She’s really cool and ethereal—if you met her, you’d probably get…Well, maybe not. What—no, dude, wait. Skid Row, please—hey. Hey. Listen. What about tonight—are you busy? No? Let’s meet up at Freddy’s, man. We’ll crush a few brews and dominate the jukebox. You know you’re my one and only.

As a metalhead, I love some big, riffy, dick-swinging, face-punching cock rock. Nothing gets me more jacked up that a wailing guitar, a thick and simple drum beat, and a spandex-clad madman singing about driving fast and hunting strange. But as a human being, I can’t deny that you gotta get in touch with you feminine side. I’m serious—any dude who lives too long without getting his sobs out becomes a hideous zombie beyond saving (what up, Diamond Dave!). So for those independent women who want to get shirtless and disgusting, and for those crotch-grabbing party animals who need to cry in a huge T-shirt, I present by Six Best Cock-Rock and Chick-Rock Songs. And I’m talking chick rock—no L7, no Kittie, no Hole. Straight-up OG singer-songwriter Lilith Fair shit.

The Six Best Cock-Rock Songs:

1. Guns N’ Roses, “My Michelle” Unlike GN’R’s many songs about boozing, using, and coozin’, “My Michelle” focuses on that one chick you can’t leave alone, that undeniable bad girl who will rock your world every time (provided you pay for the drink and drugs). She drives her friends crazy with her life’s insanity. You know that chick.

1. Warrant, “Cherry Pie” The old ways are best. For instance, sex is good, but teenage sneaking-around counting-the-seconds sex is better. Hence, “Cherry Pie,” the world’s most recognizable war cry for bad behavior. It don’t mean a thing if you ain’t got that swing.

1. Mötley Crüe, “Too Young To Fall In Love” A good cock-rock song always has an awesome riff behind it, and this slow, death-march riff is one of the Crüe’s best forays into macho muscle-flashing. Throw this on your headphones when walking through midtown New York—people will be darting aside to avoid your giant balls.

1. Great White, “Rock Me” Not your typical cock-rock anthem, “Rock Me” takes its time, building into an awesome fist-pumping chorus that details the art of begging a chick to ride you until you cough up a lung. Gotta gives these guys props: song-writing is a 10, even if pyrotechnics is a 2.

1. W.A.S.P., “Animal (Fuck Like A Beast)” What else is there to say? Blackie Lawless scared the Hell out of second lady Tipper Gore with this song, and why not? It’s about the sex you never want your mother to know you have, the one involving all that leather stuff and rope in your nightstand drawer. Just, agree with me that when you lick your chops, they’re TAAASTING GOOOOOOOD.

1. Jackyl, “She Loves My Cock” What—WHY ARE YOU READING THIS? You saw the title! You know where this is going.

The Six Best Chick-Rock Songs:

1. The Story, “The Gilded Cage” Fronted by Lilith Fair veteran Jonatha Brook, the Story played intense emotional acoustic chick rock. But they, or at least Brook, had not time for bullshit religion. “The Gilded Cage” is as anti-church as any Deicide song, and utilizes some heartbreaking minor chords to boot. You might’ve lied…

1. Alanis Morisette, “A Man” While Alanis’ “You Oughtta Know” is the anthem to pissed-off chicks everywhere, “A Man” is her masculine anthem, told from the point of view of an intelligent modern man confronting his vilification at the hands of our world’s FemiNazis. A smart and intelligent role reversal by Canada’s second-most important export. (Sorry, Alanis, Devin Townsend wins the trophy.)

1. Tori Amos, “Strong Black Vine” Does your frau like to get kinky in the bedroom, but isn’t a big fan of Danzig and Blackie Lawless? This bass-heavy, wryly-sung tribute to unorthodox lovemaking in the face of Christian society will get her in the right mood. And come on—this chick covered “Raining Blood.” She’s legit.

1. Melissa Etheridge, “I’m the Only One” Not only does this song have a big, hard, southern rock guitar line at its center, but the lyrics come from the heart of a truly metal chick, calmly explaining how hard she would blow your mind compared to the ditzy cashier you’re now bedding. Let’s be honest: Your girlfriend likes you, but Melissa Etheridge does that thing with her tongue.

1. Fiona Apple, “Slow Like Honey” In both its subject matter and flavor, this song is not terribly metal, but, and I mean this, it will get you laid. I’m serious—this sultry, grinding, bestial lust song should be on every Valentine’s Day mix you ever make. It rules, every time. For once in your life, trust me, bro.

1. Joan Baez, “Diamonds and Rust” Yeah, it’s a heartbreaking story of confronting a lost lover. But after its creation, it was a Judas Priest song. You’ve got nothing on this.

Chris Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels,

I love old religion. Raised Irish Catholic, I was from an early age enamored with the grandiose power of old Christian art, specifically the depictions of saints. These holy men were usually martyrs, and so they’re often represented as bearing the awesome devices involved with their violent demises—you get roasted, so you carry a grill; you get your teeth knocked out, you sport pliers. Sure, I love seeing Jesus get his through the Stations, and I’m always down for a woodcut of a hellmouth, but the saints have a weird superheroic quality to them. They’re the rock stars of faith, and that’s pretty metal.

What my Catholic upbringing has also instilled in me is a love for freaky, hardcore sex. From schoolgirl uniforms to water torture, my preferences for filth are broad, unorthodox, and entirely shameful. Thankfully, there are people out there who tackle these urges, creating filth so that I don’t have to: porn stars. These mavens of fantasy hold sway the collected loins of the world with almost vampiric power, changing our understanding of What Gets Us Going with their every smile and strut. So to recognize the main figures of my faith, both religious and extremely secular, I present to you my list of the Six Most Metal Saints and the Six Most Metal Porn Stars. Say seven Hail Marys after reading it, and maybe you won’t go blind.

The Six Most Metal Saints

1. Bartholomew the Apostle Bartholomew (pictured, right) is the patron saint of tanners, meaning he’s God’s watchman over metal’s most vital raw material: leather. More importantly, he obtained this position because he was skinned alive. That’s right—dude’s depicted as walking around draped in his own skin. That shit’s raw.
2. Margaret of Antioch After being tortured and imprisoned for refusing to marry some pagan king, Margaret was visited by Satan in the form of a dragon. But when he devoured her, the huge cross she carried fucked with his stomach, and she managed to tear free. She chick gave the Devil indigestion. Brass balls on this broad.
3. Catherine of Alexandria Catherine’s sometimes known as Catherine of the Wheel, and is often depicted walking around with a hunk of spiked wheel. Because after being tortured for ages, she was strapped to and martyred on a giant spiked wheel. I think Vital Remains wrote this song.
4. Denis When most martyrs get beheaded, they lay down and die. Not Denis. Denis picked up his head and walked for six miles, preaching all the way. Patron saint of headaches (fucking hilarious), he’s definitely the spookiest saint, depicted as walking around his head under his arms. Rob Zombie, eat your heart out.
5. Lucy Patron saint of the blind, Lucy was tortured by having her eyes gouged out, which is unto itself pretty fucking gnarly. What’s cooler is how she’s depicted—a sweet-looking woman with a sword and a tray with her eyes on it. At least the blind don’t have to look at this creepy biblical figure. Shudder.
6. Dunstan A weird ascetic monk covered in swelling tumors, Dunstan was once visited by the Devil on a weary night. Rather than be tempted, Dunstan yanked his silversmithing tongs from the fire and held Satan by the nose until he begged for his freedom. That is gangster. Got your nose, bitch!

The Six Most Metal Porn Stars

1. Sasha Grey Not only had Sasha Grey (pictured, right) gone from making some of the most hardcore porno out there to starring in Steven Soderbergh films, she’s also a member of experimental industrial goth band aTelecine and an avowed metalhead who has DJ’d the after party of Swans concerts. Plus, she’s done interviews for Roadrunner Records on the Revolver Golden Gods Black Carpet. Porn, noise, and a season of Entourage under her belt—what have you done today?
2. Joanna Angel Queen of punk-rock porno, Joanna’s company Burning Angel has taken alt porn to new heights (and lows), forsaking the softcore antics of Suicide Girls in exchange for real good tattoo- and piercing- and hairdye-saturated filth. It doesn’t hurt that she is a smoking hot mousey punk-rock porn-star herself, but the stable of women she works with is every metalhead’s wet dream.
3. Belladonna Throughout all of history, gap-toothed women are presented as nothing but trouble (think Chaucer’s Wife of Bath). Case in point, Belladonna, an ever-evolving dream of a sex goddess defined by her penchant for the extreme and her gapped front teeth. Even talking about her is… I’ll be back in five.
4. Nina Hartley Heavy metal exists in a time warp, where modern underground acts can easily open for legendary veterans. That’s why Nina Hartley’s on this list: She’s been doing it for almost 30 years, and still does it today, and she’s still hot as hell. If she were a band, she’d be Motörhead.
5. Mei Mara You think you’re kinky? Own some handcuffs, a blindfold with “Sssh” embroidered on it? You’re clown shoes, pal. You’d get a 3 out of 10 in the face-slapping contest. Mei Mara’s sex life is an uncompromising insane asylum where madness makes living dolls quiver and metal pronged-agony is the truest form of love. You ever listen to Today Is The Day? Like that, only sexier.
6. Bridget the Midget She’s a hard-rocking little person whose had more sex than you’ll ever rub one out to. Need I say more?

Chris “Weird Biker” Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels,

December is the harvest time for metal journalism. That’s when all of us misanthropic black-clad fucks put together our end-of-year lists, going over our entire musical diet for the last 12 months in an attempt to compile a decent final 10. And while it’d be easy to do a best/worst list, I want to take the high ground and not point out a Worst Album list. That’s just petty. (My 10 best of 2011, if you’re wondering, are: All Pigs Must Die, the Black Dahlia Murder, Tombs, Origin, Toxic Holocaust, Ash Pool, Revolting, Vreid, Hate Eternal, and the Atlas Moth.)

Artwork, however, is different. If your album is bad, fine. You know who you are, probably. When it comes to the music, let’s let it die—everyone’s made a Cold Lake in their lives, so let’s be the bigger man about it.* But there’s no excuse for shitty artwork. In fact, if your album sucks, the least you can do is put something really fucking amazing on the cover (for instance, I’ve always been 50-50 on Lair of the Minotaur, but their covers are damn cool). And unlike your music, which we all know sucks, your stupid choice of artwork is fair game for public condemnation. So here are my picks for this year’s Six Best and Worst Album Covers.

The Six Best Album Covers of 2011

1) Book of Black Earth, The Cold Testament Yes. With this cover, Seattle’s death-metal masters found a perfect image to describe their enthralling brand of fuzzy blackened death metal. If this doesn’t become a back patch soon, someone has to die.

2) All Pigs Must Die, God Is War You know what’s great? When your favorite album of the year has hands-down one of the coolest covers of all time. My No. 1 record of 2011, ladies and gentlemen, and it bears this breath-taking cover, courtesy of artist Florian Bertmer. It’s good to be the king.

3) Autopsy, Macabre Eternal This is one of those covers that’s comical to describe: Two zombies carry a giant stone skull towards an almost-completed statue of the Grim Reaper. Best part? That’s pretty much what the album sounds like.

4) Mhorgl, Heresiarch Until recently, I hadn’t heard of Australia’s Mhorgl, but not only is their brand of black thrash totally badass, the cover of their new record is a Miltonian flurry of demons, devils, wraiths, and fallen angels. When you stare into this abyss, it screams, “Charge!”

5) Chthonic, Takasago Army There’s something about a soldier carving a symbol into his forehead with a huge knife that touches me deep inside. The question is, what character is he carving? This album’s about Taiwanese soldiers, who spoke Mandarin Chinese, fighting for the Japanese! Then again, it might just be an inverted cross.

6) Mastodon, The Hunter Here, the Georgian metal titans left the world of over-the-top van-side illustration and had themselves a Communist Party. I mean, come on, how cool is this 3-D multi-jawed beast-creature? And look at the new logo—insane!

The Six Worst Album Covers of 2011

1) Cradle of Filth, Evermore Darkly Do you guys remember the Cradle of Filth I remember? The band that would put bathtubs full of blood and nude women on their albums, who put out the ‘Jesus is a cunt’ shirt? Remember that? So why does this album have a chick on a park bench for its cover?

2) Wayne Static, Pighammer You know what, I love this album title. It has so much potential to inspire a good cover—oh. Oh, you…you just want a picture of you, with scars, in a kimono. Oh, that’s, that’s cool…no, really, it shows a lot of…erm. Well.

3) Decapitated, Carnival Is Forever Yikes. I don’t know where they were trying to go with this cover, but Decapitated really fell short here. It seems like it’s really trying to say something, but…I dunno. It’s like a parody of a nu-metal album cover. Not a fan.

4) Sebastian Bach, Kicking and Screaming You really have to wonder about these hair-metal dudes sometimes. Like, was it the drugs? Was it the weird biker/homegrown sexuality being bred in the ’80s? What happened, once upon a time, that made them possibly think shit like this looks cool?

5) Limp Bizkit, Gold Cobra I like it when album art says something. For instance, when an album features a morbid sigil by Wes Benscoter, it says, “Good times ahead.” When it’s covered with Vince Locke’s unholy zombiescapes, it says, “This is a Cannibal Corpse record.” And, in the instance of Gold Cobra, it says, “Urinate here.”

6) Lou Reed & Metallica, Lulu To be fair, I’ve never heard this album, only the criticism of it, so for all I know the music rules. But man, how much did they pay the beret-wearing Sarah Lawrence sophomore who made this piece of shit? (Answer: Too much.)

*Actually, I have to be a dick about the new Morbid Angel. Sorry guys, big fan of your stuff, but you really shat the bed with the lights on with this new record.

Dig ‘Em’s frog arm was caught in a sling, so he needed help loading his armchair into his windowless van. When we were finished, he asked if I could come down the road with him, help him load it out. I was in the front seat for maybe five seconds before he slapped the handcuffs on me. I asked what was happening, where we were going, and he said, in that low, ribbity voice, “You ain’t going anywhere.” He took off his hat and ran his webbed hand over his smooth green head, sighed real loud, and then pulled a 12-inch Buck knife out from under his seat. “We’re gon’ have some fun,” he whispered.

As Tom Araya says when asked how the frontman of Slayer can be a Christian: We may never agree on what’s right, but we all know when something is wrong. And if your human machine is working, you know what’s wrong about serial killers. These men (and occasionally women), driven mad with the compulsion to kill, are the human beings who life failed big time, their misguided lust and frustration leading to acts of indescribable violence. Coming in at a close second in utter wrongness, though, are breakfast cereal mascots. Just one look in the hollow eyes of those corporate mishaps lets you understand the true face of honey-bunched madness. So to pit these two schools of unspeakable monsters against each other, here is my list of the Six Most Metal Serial Killers and Cereal Characters.

The Six Most Metal Serial Killers:

1) Andrei Chikatilo Most people have never heard of the Ripper of Rostov, mainly because his existence was denied by the Russian government for years, serial killers being a result of capitalism’s decadence. Anyway, this dude stab-fucked runaways in the woods and ate parts of their junk, and had a body count in the 50s. We may have won the Space Race, but the Commies beat us in the Peel Off Your Face Race.

2) Ted Bundy What makes Ted Bundy metal is what a fucking yuppie he was. Sure, it’s unmetal to be a yuppie if you’re just a douchebag, but if that polished veneer hides a brutal sexual sadist, then yeah, I think that counts. Plus: van murder. Keeping it real.

3) H.H. Holmes At the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago, this diabolical con man built a hotel that swallowed between 27 and 250 weary souls via secret passageways, trap doors, lime pits, and gas lines. Then he’d pawn their goods, strip their skeletons, and sell ‘em to hospitals. Dude was all about the paper.

4) John Wayne Gacy Look, Gacy’s the most predictable serial killer type—fat, corn-fed American guy whose closeted homosexuality came out in brutal homoerotic assaults. But shit, man, he was the clown, the original Evil Clown, and his body count was up there—33, wasn’t it? Can’t deny JWG.

5) Carl Panzram Never heard of him? Oh man. Panzram put the “brute” in “brutality,” with a trail of 20-something dead bodies and over a thousand acts of forced sodomy in his wake. This dude was no creeper in the shadows, he was a full-on beast. Woe be to poor souls and buttholes near Carl Panzram.

6) Ed Gein So Ed only killed three people—not impressive, I know. But it’s his legacy of exhumation, necrophilia, and ghoulish hoarding that makes him so damn metal. Dude dances with the dead in his dreams. No frontin’.

The Six Most Metal Cereal Characters:

1) Count Chocula First off, he’s a motherfucking vampire. Second, he’s had to endure an un-life with only one fang. Third, his cereal is almost repulsively delicious and addictive. He’s an undead pusher made of fucking chocolate. Accept no substitutes.

2) Lucky the Leprechaun It’s a well-known fact that leprechauns are drunk all day, every day, and Lucky is no different, swilling pint after pint of lager as he stumbles away from children waiting for him to pass out and relinquish his precious cereal. His original marshmallow ideas were yellow beers, green bottles, brown vomit puddles, and black and blue wives.

3) Sugar Bear He can’t get enough of the Sugar Crisp. You know why? Look at his eyes. This bear is high as shit. He realized midway through burning one and listening to Sleep’s Holy Mountain that he was supposed to be on a box somewhere and came running in chewing gum he bought at the subway station.

4) Cap’N Crunch Day six aboard the HMS Crunch. The rest of the crew and I have begun to grow wary. The Captain—he will not let us pronounce the “T”—has gone mad. He waves his sword errantly, speaks day in, day out, of an isle of peanut butter we will soon reach. Tempers wear thin, madness creeps upon us.

5) Crazy Craving (a.k.a. Me Want Honeycomb) We all know that deep inside every one of us is a sneaker-clad puffball with a wolf’s face, zipping around with infernal hunger. What that Craving is for, we can only guess. (I mean, we all know yours is cocaine, you’re not doing a good job hiding it, man, we saw you at the club last week with that nosebleed.)

6) Mikey That motherfucker doesn’t like anything. He’s so necro.

Contributing writer Chris “Faygo” Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels,

Confession time: I was a teenage Juggalo. Between the ages of 13 and 16, I loved the Insane Clown Posse. Their timeless rhymes regarding corpulent women, mythical jesters, and affordable soda pop instilled in me a sense of devil-may-care vulgarity that I cherish to this day. And though my tastes progressed towards Scandinavian melo-death and blistering blackened thrash later in life, the words of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope remain face-painted on my heart. I, friends, am down with the clown. So when Revolver offered me the chance to interview ICP regarding the band’s 12th Annual Gathering of the Juggalos (this year’s lineup including everyone from Charlie Sheen to CKY and Bobby Brown to metalhead comedian Brian Posehen and takes place in Cave-in-Rock, IL, from August 11 – August 14), I happily poured myself a Faygo Diet Root Beer and emailed their publicist. A few days later, I received the call. “My name is J,” chuckled the foul-mouthed harlequin on the other end, “and I’m violent.”

REVOLVER How are things at Psychopathic Records with the Gathering of the Juggalos coming up?
VIOLENT J It’s crazy. It’s our Super Bowl, it’s our Wrestlemania, it’s our New Year’s. And we pull it off pretty well for some people who have no experience with festival promotion. We don’t have anyone here who used to work for Lollapalooza. We just decided to learn the ropes ourselves, and I think we’ve done a pretty good job.

As both an organizer and part of “the talent,” how much are you involved in the organizational process of the Gathering?
A lot. We get together every day around this giant round table at the office—you should see this table, man, it’s huge, it’s presidential—and we go around, and every person says what they’re working on at what time and place that day. Everyone hears what everyone else is doing, and can offer to help. It’s a huge family. There are no ties and suits here. People wonder how we came up with the groups for the Gathering—it’s ’cause we sat around wondering what would be cool as Hell! ‘Aw, you know who would be cool?’ ‘Wouldn’t it be great if we got such-and-such?’ We don’t look at who’s touring, who’s going to be in the area, who’s the cheapest—we pull guys up out of obscurity. We get guys who’ve been sitting at home for two years. We see the people we want to see. They know about the Gathering, and they want to play the Gathering.

The lineup is kind of a ragtag team of musicians and performers. There’s no real big mainstream headliner.
I think if you’re currently blowing up, if you’re the mainstream’s favorite, you could never play the Gathering. But if you’ve had it once, if the world is pointing its finger at you, judging you, criticizing you, then you’re OK by the Juggalos. But if you have hits on the radio, if you’re what everybody’s listening to, they’ll kill you at the Gathering. Not that Tila Tequila wasn’t bad

Who’s someone who you’re interested to see perform at the Gathering?
The rapper Paris. Super hardcore Black Panther rapper. He has a song called “Bush Killa” about killing George Bush. He got thrown off of Warner Brothers for having an album cover with a bunch of dead cops hanging out of a cop car. He’s so hardcore. And Bobby Brown! Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t think R&B could ever be played at the Gathering, but someone like him, who always has the finger pointed at him, might be able to make it.

How did Charlie Sheen get involved?
We were doing the Howard Stern Show, and somebody, maybe Howard, was talking about Bree Olson, one of Charlie’s goddesses. We got to talking about Charlie Sheen, and someone mentioned how cool it would be to have him at the Gathering. Well, our manager Billy tracked down his manager, and they started talking. What’s exciting is that Charlie Sheen isn’t doing this for the money. I don’t think Charlie Sheen needs the little amount of money we could give him. I think he just realizes it’s something different. Here’s a guy who’s seen it all, but he’s never seen anything like the Gathering.

Can you believe that ICP, a band who’s never received any mainstream radio attention, are now putting on one of the most well-known American music festivals around?
Times are changing. Back in the day, it was all about the record companies. They were like giants, like gods. They were gonna decide who got famous, who MTV were going to be playing heavily. But now, with the Internet and the invention of YouTube, people are finding things on their own. There’s no one on YouTube saying ‘No’ to anybody. There’s no publicist, no sales manager, it’s straight from the people, to the people. That’s why record companies are dying. The days of the giant record company moguls, “You’ll never work in this town again,” they’re gone. And I think ICP are shining examples of that. We’ve never had any help as far as the industry. Now, the downside of that is, nobody invites us to the Grammys. Nobody invites us to the American Music Awards, or the big Hollywood parties. We’re selling millions of records, and no one has any idea why, because we’re not part of that elite inner circle.

And you guys are stronger than ever now, what with the Gathering and the “Miracles” video blowing up.
Maybe this is just me being overly positive or conceited, but I still think we’re going to be even bigger than we are right now. That’s why Juggalos have always been so supportive and so passionate. Most people put on our record and hear a bunch of cursing from a couple of white guys in clown paint and think, What is this garbage? But the fans get into it, absorb it, and they find the treasures buried within. They see the real beauty of it. And I think the more attention ICP gets, the more people will see the beauty beneath the surface. And the real beauty of it is that ICP never had to change to do that. That’s a huge part of our success—we never sold out. We never changed anything about ourselves. This is who we are. It’s just that now, more people are hearing about it.

And yet even with an expanding fanbase, you’ve retained your really loyal diehards.
Of course. We love the Juggalos. We live and die and breathe Juggalo. Being a Juggalo is not an easy thing, walking around with an ICP shirt on or an ICP tattoo on your arm. We are the most hated band in the world, the most made-fun-of, the most disrespected—being a fan of that band is hard. That’s what’s so beautiful about the Gathering. When you come out and see 10,000 people who’ve also always felt like the underdog, it’s wonderful. The feeling of the Gathering is way more wonderful than who’s playing the Gathering. That love for one another is worth the admission a hundred times.

How do you strike a balance with the fans? Is there ever a moment where you say, ‘We need more rap, we need more rock?’
That’s the thing about Juggalos—no two Juggalos are exactly alike. I mean, what else out there in music is like ICP? There’s really nothing like us. We’ve never been able to fit into any genre of music. Some kids love rock, and metal, and ICP. Some kids love rap and R&B music, and ICP. So one thing we’ve learned is that the fans come from all walks of life, and the one thing they have in common is their love of the Dark Carnival. Hell, even we don’t see eye-to-eye with our own fans on things other than the Dark Carnival. I mean, they love Vanilla Ice at the Gathering! Would you say ICP is similar to Vanilla Ice? I wouldn’t say so, but they love him! And it’s always been that way. We’ve watched our own fans boo some of our favorite acts offstage when we brought them out on tour!

Funny you mention that—one of my clearest concert memories was watching Nashville Pussy and Suicidal Tendencies open for you guys in New York. The kids loved Suicidal, but they threw shoes and shit at Nashville Pussy until they left the stage.
See, and Nashville Pussy completed the tour with us, and in some cities, they did OK! It’s hard to say who the Juggalos are gonna like. They’re a group of different people with a strong common love.

Most notable is Fleshgod Apocalypse’s ability to weave chuggy riffage and tireless blast beats with epic orchestral passages, resulting in a tapestry of romantic brutality. Opener “Temptation” creeps into an eerie crescendo before crashing straight into “The Hypocrisy,” a whirlwind of death-metal technicality and free-wheeling piano straight out of the Behemoth-based opera of your nightmares (it should be noted that amongst the band’s roster is pianist Francesco Ferrini). Tracks like “The Imposition” and “The Violation” juxtapose the band’s throttling aggression with its larger-than-life symphonics, while “The Egoism” and “The Betrayal” conjoin sorrowful solos with cinematic string-work to paint emotional landscapes that rival most sunsets.

The only issue throughout is the clear vocals—at times the wild cries on many of the songs sound strained beyond their reach, and tech-death fans may find it hard to swallow the operatic vibrato on “The Egoism”—but even these hearken back to ICS Vortex-era Dimmu Borgir in a way that will charm many listeners. Overall, the album is far more engaging and fierce than almost anything to come out of the underground this year, making the Fleshgod Apocalypse, and Italy’s metal scene, a force to be reckoned with. Ah, sweet Agony. CHRIS KROVATIN

Check out “The Volation” off Agony below: