The foodie & \m/ love continues. Here’s someone else cooking to metal. This time, its Canadian black metal from a band called Gris, and the writer really breaks down why he enjoys their sound in the kitchen. This is actually really nice timing, since two nights ago wifey and I went out and had steaks for dinner, and I came home thinking about prime rib since. I’m going to have to act on that and see how heavy, droning sounds couple with my budding culinary trials.
Before I worked in a record store, I worked in a restaurant. In the restaurant industry, there is a strict hierarchy of who is in charge, starting with the chef/owner and ending with the dishwasher. I was the dishwasher. I would have to sit through menu meetings, having no say on anything, clean everyone’s messes, and say “yes sir” to anyone and everyone. But at the end of the night, when the last cook clocked out, and I was alone, I was king. The first thing I’d do, is run upstairs and put on the geekiest, screwballiest fantasy metal I could find.
Music is a currency in the restaurant industry. It is a measure of power, and a popularity contest. When you get to put on your jam at work, all others bow down to your sonic superiority. I don’t work in a restaurant anymore, but whenever I get ready…
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