PT KONTAK PERKASA - Earlier this year, I got wind of a two-day mini-tour headlined by my
buddies, the French metal giants Gojira. I love Gojira and have publicly
supported them from the second I first heard them, but what made me
decide that I had to attend these shows were the opening bands: Oni,
Code Orange and Deafheaven. This was a heavily-stacked and
highly-diverse bill; something interesting enough to make me want to
leave my surf shack for a few days. Also, these three bands are coming
up in a musical climate vastly different than the one my band, Lamb of
God, started in, and I wanted to see how they were navigating the
constantly shifting and treacherous waters of the modern music business.
As a long-term professional musician working in today's increasingly
cynical world, I fight daily against the bitter trap lying in wait for
all of us older band dudes: the dreaded
"these-damn-kids-today-don't-have-a-clue-about-real-music-the-old-days-were-so-much-better-everything-sucks-now"
mentality. No one wants to hear yet another creaky old timer bitching
about how everything has gone to hell, and besides that, it's not true.
There is still tons of amazing music being made. In fact, there's more
music being made now than ever before, BUT (and this is a big "but")
with the massive increase in musical output, it's getting harder and
harder to find bands that stand out from the thousands of others. And if
making music is how you earn a living, while it's true that everyone
has always been fighting for their piece of the same pie, now the pie is
a lot smaller, the chefs are a lot stingier and there's a whole lot
more starving people than when my band started. It's always been tough
to turn a buck in the music game, but the reality is it's a lot tougher
for young bands now. Allow me to wheeze away for a second and explain my
viewpoint.
One of the most common questions I've been asked over the years by
both aspiring musicians and hack journalists is "What advice can you
give to a young band just starting out?" My immediate answer was (and is
to this day) "Don't do it. The odds are against you. Go to college or
learn a trade so that you can get a job and actually pay your bills."
This pisses people off, but honestly, I'm not trying to be a jerk or
discourage them from playing music at all — I'm merely laying some
fiscal reality on them. I encourage everyone to play music — it's great
fun and good for the soul — but I'm never going to lie and say your
chances of actually makingmoney from it are anything other than dismal.
More appropriate questions to ask would be "How do we become the best
band we can?" "How can we build a loyal audience?" Besides the obvious
(practice, practice, practice; play anytime, anywhere, to anyone who
will watch you; and always give it 110 percent), my answer would be
this: "Be different than everyone else." This answer is more crucial now
than ever before because of one thing: technology.
We are both blessed and cursed to live in an increasingly
hyper-connected world. With the advent of the internet and cellular
phone technology, a virtually endless amount of audio and video music
files are readily available to anyone who has a computer and/or
cellphone. The amount of music instantly available at the touch of a
4.7-inch screen is staggering, something I never could have imagined
when I first became involved in the underground music scene in the
1980s. Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a William S. Gibson novel. I
love it.
It's also easier and cheaper than ever before for bands to write, record and release music. Band members don't even have to be on the same continent to make a record, much less hunkered down together in the same studio. My own band has approved album mixes from tour... in fuckingAustralia.
To young people today, that might not seem like a big deal at all, but
trust me — it is. When my first band recorded our demo to two-inch tape,
it wasn't out of any desire for superior analog sound quality or some
sort of hipsteresque sense of nostalgia — it was because that was the
only thing available. We listened to the mix on the studio speakers,
then got one single cassette copy and gave it the old car stereo test.
We passed the tape around between band members until my girlfriend's
crappy tape deck ate it — end of demo (until we drove down and hassled
the engineer for another copy). Hard drive disasters do happen from time
to time, but for the most part, a band's recorded music is safe in
perpetuity (as long as the internet doesn't collapse), and that is a
wonderful thing.
But here comes the bummer: all this amazing science fiction–style
stuff comes at a high price. Cheap recording technology has resulted in a
bewilderingly massive amount of music available, and while I believe more
music is always better for the world, there's almost too much to choose
from. File sharing, meanwhile, has virtually eradicated one already
historically meager form of revenue for bands: record sales. In response
to declining sales, many smaller labels have folded and the larger
labels' budgets have shrunk, which means less money for bands to record
with and smaller tour support funds. Another label response to their
decreasing coffers is the dreaded "360 deal." (Just Google it, as it's
too distasteful for me to even explain beyond this analogy: bend over
and grab your ankles, bitch.) And the paid streaming services which are
now becoming the preferred method of music consumption for many? Well,
let's just say somebody is getting paid a nice chunk of change — it sure as hell ain't the artists, though.
Oni's Jake Oni
photograph by D. Randall Blythe
In an artistic sense, the instantaneous availability of almost every
tune ever written has also killed something that has historically
produced and nurtured tons of great bands: the unique regional music
scene. When anything is available to anyone anywhere, bands in local
scenes no longer ferment in their own isolated juices, influencing and
learning from each other, all the while building a signature local
sound. In this scorched earth data overload climate, never again will we
see the fertile environments that birthed musical giants like the Bay
Area thrash scene, or the D.C. punk scene that Dischord Records
documented so well, or the street aggression of the mighty New York
hardcore scene, or the close-knit swampy metal/punk hybrid bands of New
Orleans. How could there be, when most young musicians' sonic influences
arrive instantaneously via the vast World Wide Web, instead of the
older players and peers in their own community? Me pining for the good
old days aside, I think this has led to a decrease in originality and
distinctive tone in underground music. (For Pete's sake, is the term
"underground" even valid anymore? Music can't really be considered
"underground" when anyone anywhere can easily obtain it without leaving
their couch, now can it?) Instead of the distinct flavors of unique
regional music scenes, we now have an endless and bland global
electronic list of "subgenres", which quickly become codified, sad,
little parodies of themselves as soon as a few of the early defining and
groundbreaking bands gain a little traction with a wider audience.
Then, via the magic teaching tool of YouTube, the mimic monkeys
immediately come whooping out of the woodwork, clutching their brand-new
bag of copped licks and grinding the joy right out of those tunes.
If all of that stuff sounds like I'm being a cranky old Negative
Nancy who refuses to accept the changing times, I'm not. I'm just
pointing out some difficulties that young bands face today that I wasn't
up against. And like I said, there is a lot of great new music being
made these days, and I honestly want to see these younger bands succeed.
I don't have any grand answers to the challenges of being a new band in
the modern era, but watching Oni, Code Orange and Deafheaven I did take
note of what they were doing right. They all worked hard to gain new
fans, which is how you sell merch, which is the key to making a living
as a band today (honestly, that's it — I am really just a glorified
black T-shirt salesman.) What exactly did they do right?
First of all, each band took the stage and didn't half-ass it. All of them were musically tight, and I mean really tight
— this is only achieved by constant touring and rehearsal. There are no
shortcuts. But merely being musically tight isn't enough to hold a
crowd's attention (except amongst some specialized and highly geeked-out
music nerd circles.) Oni, being the youngest group on the bill, came
out first; neither venue was more than half full when they started, but
their singer, Jake Oni, immediately engaged the crowd that was there,
getting them to respond with raised fists and loud yells. This is
critical for a new band: get the audience to pay attention enough to
interact with the group. People always remember interactive
participation more than passive observation. Code Orange took the stage
with unbridled ferocity, displaying one of the most savage, aggressive
vibes I have seen in years — the band looked like they were ready to eat the
audience. And Deafheaven's frontman, George Clarke, stalks around
exuding a creepy psychosexual vibe that clearly freaked out some
unsuspecting kids mashed up against the barricade — it was hilarious to
watch. All three bands put on a show that in one way or the other caused
at least part of the audience to stop checking Facebook long enough to
check them out. This is no small feat these days — if you don't believe
me, look around the next time you are at a show and count the number of
faces you see bathed in the sickly glow of their pocket Jesus.
Code Orange's Reba Meyers
photograph by D. Randall Blythe
Second, musically they all offered something a bit different than the
average heavy band. Oni could fall under the "prog-metal" umbrella, but
due to having a member from Grand Cayman, not to mention recording
their album there (yes, a Caribbean metal band — who would have
thought?), some subtle island vibes and soca rhythms seeped into the
riff madness. They also are the only metal band I have ever seen with a
xylosynth player (I know it sounds weird to have a freaking electronic
xylophone player, but the dude shreds and it works with their music).
Pittsburgh's Code Orange are a product of the American hardcore scene,
but besides bruising breakdowns, they incorporate a large variety of
influences into their bludgeoning sound, from metal to industrial to
rock. Harsh electronics and brutal noise/negative space are stabbed
dagger-like into their song structures to great effect, creating a
discordant wall of noise that sounds like a nightmare come to life, not a
run-of-the-mill hardcore band. And the Bay Area's Deafheaven's epic
black-metal-dipped-in-luscious-shoegaze tunes are a pure example of a
band smartly employing musical movements and dynamics. Their songs are
like a beautifully cooked multi-course meal, not a quick trip to 7-11
for some junk food. Of course, all these bands have influences (as all
bands do), but the way they use them makes them stand out. This is
important.
Third, they all were cool offstage. This means I didn't see or hear
anyone whining or complaining about their place on the bill. I didn't
see anyone acting like a jerk to fans, the other bands or the venue
employees. I didn't hear anyone bitching while they were humping gear
out the backdoor of the venue. Furthermore, all the bands seemed stoked
to be there, and I believe that they honestly were, because, really,
getting to play shows to hundreds of people, even if a lot of them have
never heard your band before, is fucking awesome. I know — I
did it for years. The "being cool" offstage factor is way more important
to the success of a band than people probably think. If a young band
leaves a bad taste in a headlining band's mouth by acting like spoiled
entitled little jerks, that headlining band won't keep it to itself.
It's a small music scene, we all know each other, and we see each other
often. When we do, we talk shop. Don't be a dick, or no one will carry
you out and give you a shot at snatching up some of their audience.
Put on a good show, be different and be cool — these three
requirements aren't particular to today's protean music industry. They
have always been applicable, so in some ways, nothing has really changed
at all. But for the reasons I outlined earlier (and many more), things
are tougher for young bands to support themselves these days, so they
are more important now than ever. It might not be fair, but you younger
musicians have to be better and work even harder than we old guys did. I
wish all you young guns the best of luck — the way things are, you're
gonna need it. The (strangely) good news is that we live in an
incredibly divisive time right now — while that might be bad for society
in general, it's always been great for new punk, metal and hardcore
music. I think we're going to see that paradigm manifest for sure over
the next few years. As the almighty Bad Brains put it: "the youth are
getting restless." I look forward to hearing their output.
(And oh yeah … Gojira crushed it.)