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Try to explain
the depraved ethos behind films like Eli Roth's new grindhouse pic
Hostel to anyone other than a fan of the horror genre, and you'll
most likely elicit a series of concerned looks. The same goes for
explaining hardcore death metal. Some people just don't get it.
And like splatter films, stout beer or kinky sex, it's just not
for them. But times are changing.
Entertainment previously considered only viable in an underground
market is beginning to rear its wonderfully ugly head in the mainstream.
And judging by the swelling number of hardcore metal acts in the
Valley of the Sun -- and fans' surging demand for shows and CDs
-- more and more people have the craving for the sickeningly savory
taste of bone-crushing, hyper-concussive metal. Understandably,
that's good news for Tempe's own king of grind, And the Hero Fails,
which is unleashing its newest self-released slab, Empire Smile,
on the world this week.
The down-to-earth
guys from ATHF don't play love songs, they'll beat anyone at mercy,
and they're all recently converted carnivores. Well, almost all
of them.
"Rob's
the last man standing," says guitarist Matt London as he chuckles
through a mouthful of beef-loaded potatoes and Bud Light, speaking
of ATHF vocalist Robert Rodriguez. Rodriguez is the only non-flesh-eater
left in ATHF, formerly an entirely vegetarian band. In fact, lead
guitarist Ian Roe converts by mistake during the interview with
New Times, after wolfing down half a plate of jumbo quesadillas
he specifically ordered without chicken. Word to vegans everywhere
-- don't trust Applebee's.
"Ah, hell,
I guess I'm not a vegetarian no more," Roe lightheartedly quips,
showing the chicken-sullied snack for the whole table to see.
You'd never
peg the guys of ATHF as lighthearted listening to their crashing
music, though. ATHF's bombastic sound implies something more along
the lines of a battalion marching out to prepare for a ground napalm
fire mission.
Formed two years
ago with singer/squealer Rodriguez, guitarists Roe and London, drummer
Dustin Vaughan and bassist Mike Villa, ATHF recorded Empire Smile
last November with knobmeister Larry Elyea at Mind's Eye Digital
in Mesa. Elyea has worked with everyone from Jimmy Eat World and
Eminem to Authority Zero and the Beastie Boys.
"Larry
rules -- he is God," Vaughan blurts out. The rest of the band
members nod in approval. Considering what Elyea got out of the musicians
and onto disc, you'd have to agree. Empire Smile deals out deadly
doses of bomb-blast music so heavy you'll need a crane to put the
seven-track CD in your player. Coming in at less than 30 minutes,
the entire disc sounds like a hellish machine generating the power
for another world. Guitars whir like gears, drums beat like pistons,
and the whole ensemble rattles with an unearthly energy. For the
dilettante listener, it would be easy to miss the nuance and technicality
in the songwriting -- some songs have more than 15 time changes
and log more than 2,800 kick drum hits. To explain the sound appropriately,
you almost need new words. Musical terms that hardcore bands like
ATHF have spawned will no doubt end up canonized as proper musical
terminology hundreds of years from now.
"We have
our own weird words to communicate what we mean, guitar and drum-wise,"
says Vaughan. Vaughan and the guys laugh while describing various
terms -- "chuncha," "boyyeerrrrrryyyyy," and
"dunka dunka chunch chunch chunch" -- that make perfect
sense once you hear these visceral songs.
The band's musical
chops are surpassed only by its sense of humor and its drummer's
mad mercy skills.
"Dude,
Dustin will destroy anyone at mercy," says a grinning London.
He's right -- don't try it. This reporter tried and lost. You will,
too. Even though the guys like to have a good time, don't get the
idea that they aren't serious.
"We're
all totally committed to doing this," Villa explains.
Roe chimes in,
"We tell our significant others and our bosses that the band
comes first -- that's just how it is."
So it's no wonder
ATHF has developed such a strong following and played with so many
national hardcore metal acts -- the band tours, practices, and parties
together nonstop.
"We've
played with Chimera, Bane, The Agony Scene, Evergreen Terrace --
the list goes on and on," says Rodriguez.
ATHF upholds
its heavy reputation with allegorical song titles like "His
Imperial Victory" or "Sun of Man," and Rodriguez
pens lyrics that avoid the typical misogynistic heavy metal clichés
in favor of stories of realistic class struggles and the war that
will end the world.
"You can
plug any pair of warring world powers into the lyrics of the songs,
and they'll fit," says Rodriguez.
Songs like "A
Massacre Prevents a War" examine symbolic concepts that parallel
many current events -- from controversial miscues of the war in
Iraq to the mistreatment of immigrants, illegal and otherwise. In
it, Rodriguez howls, "One alive is worth five dead, a bullet
right through the back of the head," with enough low-hertz
energy to microwave a Circle K bean burrito.
"We like
to keep it light," he jokes. When asked which tune is the love
song, the whole band laughs. "We don't do love songs!"
Fans don't seem to mind.
With the demand
for hardcore acts at an all-time high, and judging by the recent
success of other local hardcore metal bands like Job for a Cowboy
and Abigail Williams, ATHF is hitting at the right time and in the
right place. And if a film as fiendishly sadistic as Hostel can
have a $20 million opening weekend and beat Narnia out of the number
one box office position, it might not be long before ATHF and its
hardcore cohorts are bumping off 50 Cent and Kelly Clarkson from
the Billboard charts.
One could only
hope.
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