“Rock and roll don’t come from your brain, it comes from your crotch.” Thus spake James Franco’s Daniel Desario on Freaks and Geeks, and though I might disagree with the universality of that sentiment, there’s no denying that rock and roll emanates from a primitive place deep inside of us (how else do you explain the success of Limp Bizkit?).
While there’s no shortage of subgenres taking themselves too seriously, perhaps the biggest offender is black metal. Through all the corpse paint, church burning, and inter-band homicide, it often seems like there’s no room for levity in the scene. Even in the less purist offshoots like blackgaze, everything is delivered with complete sincerity.
Then there’s Kvelertak. Dubbing themselves “black ‘n’ roll,” the Norwegian sextet takes the blistering sonic assault of black metal and injects it with a heaping dose of crotch-thrusting rock and roll.
You might as well call it Blue Öyster Kvlt. And if there’s any question, it rules.
I’ve been going through a massive Emma Ruth Rundle phase lately. It all started when I revisited 
Looking back, the marriage of grunge and shoegaze should have been a little more obvious. At first blush, it might not seem like the unwashed, clenched teeth noise rock of the Seattle Sound would have much in common with the dreamy, mumbling walls of noise of the Scene that Celebrates Itself. After all, what kinship can Slowdive have with Soundgarden?
Speaking of the 
