From Another Planet is Here to Conquer Earth

Chillicothe, Ohio is known for a few things:

  • The luxurious fragrance of the Meade Paper Mill floating on the cold morning wind
  • The Harley Shop on Eastern Avenue
  • Being the First (and Third) capitol of Ohio

Chillicothe can now add soul-blistering metal to its list of accolades, in the form of native sons From Another Planet!

As stated in their bio, the band is made up of “longtime friends who’ve been creating music together since their early adolescent years”.

None of that childhood time together was wasted, because these guys are fucking technicians. From Another Planet creates a sonic wall of thundering, staccato drums, masterful slap bass, and dual, intertwined (and I mean siamese twin intertwined) guitars. Add the gamut running vocals (dark, guttural lows climbing to vibrant, screeching highs) into the mix, and the end result is a potent, progressive metal brew that somehow comes out so tight it’s almost impossible to tell the instruments apart!

Interview with the band to come later, as well as From Another Planet dedicated episode of BamRising: The Sound of the Underground.

New EP Seasonal Affective out now (you owe it to yourself to give it a listen)…


Seasonal Affective available for immediate download at:


Videos available on:



Connect with From Another Planet on:





From Another Planet is:

Michael Leone – Vocals, Lyrics
Nick Davisson – Guitar
Shayne DePugh – Guitar
Marcus White – Bass, Vocals
Jesse Mitten – Drums, Percussion




Wastelands @ Irving Plaza

Wastelands lived up to their name.

They stepped up, plugged in, and proceeded to lay waste to NYC’s Irving Plaza!

New Jersey’s meanest outfit (with no members named Glenn, Jerry, or Doyle) brought it to the stage, and they brought it hard enough to stun the crowd. The band chemistry is maniacal!

Ripped, physically imposing ghouls, the rhythm section grinds out heavy, brutal, thunder and sets it rolling across the stage like a tide of doom….. smashing directly into the pulse-pounding guttural roar emanating from vocalist Michael “Mort” Howard.

Intensity, pure force, and unholy rage is a combination that fucking works wonders, because catching a brick in the teeth (to the soundtrack of buzzing chainsaws) is less intense than Wastelands.

On a side note, I didn’t realize it was possible for a human (if human he is) to levitate through sheer projected rage until I saw Mort do it onstage…

Let me know when the next show is, you bunch of fucking killers, and BamBamjack will be there (this time with a fucking camera)…

Standout Tracks:
Grasping at Straws (Serpents Tongue, 2016)
Pariah (Single, 2017)

Support Wastelands at:

Find additional Wastelands info on Facebook

Wastelands is:
Tito Valentin: Guitar
Michael “Mort” Howard: Vocals
Dante Dallavalle: Guitar
Cam Siss: Bass
Joe Calotta: Drums

Life of Agony @ Irving Plaza


From the opening palm muted fury of This Time, to the scratching as Little Spots of You fades out, I have hungrily devoured every scrap of anything Life of Agony has released. I hauled the wife and kid from the dreary gloom of Ohio to New York’s bright neon glow to be at Irving Plaza on April 28th where I physically gave witness to the world tour kick off (A Place Where There’s No More Pain tour), and every second was righteous…

The line from the front door was blocks long, and every motherfucker (or motherfuckette) standing in it was stoked to be there!

I had conversations with Marines on leave, a waitress, a dancer, a few guitar players, and a tattoo artist. We all had love for each other, and love for the band. We are the Underground. That’s how much Life of Agony means to hardcore fans. Been deployed for ten months? Fuck it. Been elbow deep in other people’s dirty ass dishes? Fuck it. Drove 800 miles to get here? Fuck it. We’re here, and we are the Underground…

The energy build up as the lights dimmed quickly became incendiary.

When the moment of truth finally came, Mina Caputo hit the mic like a goddamn banshee (and the second she opened her mouth the place exploded). That woman is my fucking spirit animal. She’s the Queen of New York, and (in my opinion) the Queen of Rock and Roll. She’s the Queen of whatever she wants to be, and (judging by the batshit insane crowd she had in her complete control) Irving Plaza agreed with me.

Alan, Sal, and Joey were no less than legendary. 

This is the rhythm section that thumped out the heartbeat of my formative years, and Alan is the author of lyrics that fucking shaped the person I have ultimately become. The moment was so magical, I forgot to take pictures…

For one night at Irving Plaza, I experienced a transfer of raw emotion between an absolute shitload of people and witnessed the throb of the Underground.

The world would be a better place if we all did that…

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Doyle @ Huntington V-Club



Touring in support of the Abominator album, Doyle’s four-man crew destroyed innocence and blistered eardrums, laying waste to their instruments along the way.

Alex Story writhed his way through the set (while absolutely shredding his vocal cords).

The man may very well be the Jim Morrison of our time, with one notable exception. Jim is resting peacefully in Paris, but Alex is going to have to live forever. No self-respecting graveyard is going to take him (out of pure fear of what he’ll do to the other residents)…

Speaking of what people will do, Brandon Pertzborn should probably run a background check on himself.

It’s a distinct possibility he caught an assault charge tonight, because he beat the ever-loving piss out of his drum-set. Between the unholy onslaught of the drums and bass guitar, it’s a wonder that anybody made it out of the V-Club with their spleens intact.

Finally, the Beast Himself, Doyle Wolfgang Von Frankenstein:

Doyle stomped across the stage like an enraged demon (and never missed a note the entire time). Screaming solos, grinding rhythm, or hellish noise, he coaxed every squeal, wail, and tortured groan imaginable out of his legendary Annihilator guitar by literally punching the shit out of it, and that, ladies and gents, is rock and roll!!!

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Buy Doyle’s shit, and do your part to support soul crushing, graveyard friendly rock and roll, motherfuckers!