Monday

TMN List: Worst/Best Metal Cover Art


15 November 2012
by Poppy Reid

There is a fine line between a horrific and perfect metal album cover (re: Iron Maiden) and the kind of ridiculous offering that can only be met with laughter. This list is based on the understanding that while the genre's cover art generally cops a lot of flack, sometimes it can be celebrated and ridiculed at the same time.

1. Cannibal Corpse – The Wretched Spawn
















While Cannibal Corpse have taken a literal approach to almost all their cover art, the ability to shock has always been their forté, with every cover having been either censored or given an alternate visual for the last 15 years.

2. Lard – 70’s Rock Must Die

While this is actually a three-track EP from the Chicago duo, it gets an honourable mention for its colour and design assault; and if you look closely, you can see he hangs to the right.

3. Cradle Of Filth – Darkly, Darkly, Venus Aversa

Perhaps the band are honing in on every metal-lovers’ ostensible fantasy, she’s even holding the forbidden fruit, hot right? If this artwork floats your boat then we can only imagine the mess you’re making over the band’s logo.

4. Monster Magnet – Spine Of God

At the time of reissuing the 1991 debut in 2006, the New Jersey band found themselves in an immense hallucinogenic drug coma. This is the result.

5. Anthrax – Fistful of Metal

Just because it was their debut album, does not mean they should be pardoned.

6. W.A.S.P – Inside The Electric Circus

When frontman Blackie Lawless said this third album was by far his worst, we assumed he was also referring to the artwork. However a cursory glance at the band’s previous releases show that yes, the spandex is always intentional.

7. Boned – Up At The Crack

Featuring tracks like Loaded On Love, Drain The Main Vein and Ain’t No Talkin’ With Your Mouth Full, this cover, in all its phallic glory, is entirely understandable.

8. Acid Bath - When the Kite String Pops

As if metal bands using clown imagery weren’t already naff, this sludge metal band from Louisiana had to make it utterly guileless too. If you’re going to get your kid to make your album artwork, at least put their age under the signature.

9. Alestorm – Back Through Time

This album was recorded at LSD Studios in Germany, the same year Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides was released. ‘Nuff said.

10. Meat Loaf – Bat Out Of Hell

Meat Loaf is undeniably a heroic outcome of the ‘70s, and Bat Out Of Hell is the lead and pinnacle of one of the greatest album trilogies ever recorded, but as forward-thinking as this was in 1977, it’s still a naked man riding a bike out of a grave.

11. Bruce Dickinson – Accident Of Birth

“Oh no! There’s a Jack in the Box with fuzzy eyebrows coming at me with a baseball bat. I’m so scared!” – said no one. The artist however, is responsible for Iron Maiden’s incredible mascot Eddie, which makes this offering twenty-times worse.

12. Burzum - Burzum
While this album was recorded ‘pre-imprisonment’ for the murder of fellow black metal musician Euronymous (who recorded a guitar solo on this record), and therefore not his darkest visual, the Norwegian artist was already exerting grim tendencies.

13. Darkthrone – Dark Thrones and Black Flags

Never fear! The vampish varmint with the thighs is here! The illustration skills here are apt, it’s just the illustration depicting a million contradictions that isn’t.

14. Deceased – Supernatural Addiction

If it was the Virginian thrash-metal band’s ultimate intention to conjure Tales From The Crypt nostalgia (circa 1990), then by golly they’ve done a neat job!

15. Doomriders – Black Thunder

While we’re wholly aware that the aim of metal artwork is to make fifty shades of Doomrider’s debut album cover, we’re just not sure this puts the fear of the metal Gods inside us.

16. Exodus – Bonded By Blood

The perfect depiction of Yin and Yang. From the black-polished vamp nails, to the wiry blue-black hair and the gnashing fangs, plus the super-glue attachment, which connects him to the ‘good child’ – yes, this would have look quite scary in your head.

17. Ghost - Opus Eponymous

Opus Eponymous was nominated for the Swedish version of the Grammy Awards in 2010 in the Best Hard Rock category, the cover art was named #4 in Revolver magazine’s 2010 awards, but it only takes a perfunctory glance at the haunted house, bats, full moon, lightening and Priest-ghost to understand its place in this list.

18. Immortal - Pure Holocaust
KISS had been touring and recording for seventeen years before this New York band formed; this just cannot be forgiven.

19. Mayhem – Dawn Of The Black Hearts

This infamous photograph was taken by Mayhem guitarist Euronymous (the very same from #12), when he discovered the body of the band’s vocalist after he had shot himself in the head. Not only is this cover in horrendously bad taste, it was also Euronymous’ idea to use the image, after he had allegedly encouraged the suicide. What a guy!

20. Municipal Waste – The Fatal Feast

We bet $50 and a can of spray paint that these guys almost died in their Virginian mosh shorts when The Walking Dead TV series was made available as a box set.

21. Boris – Heavy Rocks

Here we have a rule breaker. Yes, it’s a reissue, but the original was two shades of orange. The Japanese band has taken all that was heinous and holy about metal artwork and ‘Princeified’ it.

22. Tankard – Zombie Attack

What’s worse than seeing all the harmless film protagonists in one place? Featuring them watching television on an album cover, for a band named after a cup.

23. Terror Squad - Artillery

This is that drawing you made into your album cover when you were drunk and wanted to show your little brother you love him, and encourage his artistic pursuits... even though he clearly can't draw.


Little Mix: Girl Power

                                                                                Photography: Ken Leanfore

15 November 2012
by Poppy Reid

Boisterous femininity, unbound self-awareness, patriarchal resistance and sensationalised depth within each cliché; in other words, Girl Power is back. Leading the way are the four adorable twenty-something-year-olds sitting on a couch at Sydney’s Luna Park, ready for consumerists to collect them all.

“Little Mix stands for everything,” says Perrie Edwards, the group’s only blonde and only member dating a fifth of fellow X Factor UK phenomenon One Direction. “We’re a mix of girls, we’re a mix of personalities, we’re all little, we’re a mix of races...”
“And musical influences,” interjects the gregarious Leigh-Anne Pinnock.

With Sydney’s Harbour Bridge an active backdrop behind the myriad of versicolour (some actually coordinated with one another), the layers of makeup, lip gloss and the pairs of six-inch heels, Edwards, Pinnock, Jesy Nelson and Jade Thirlwall aren’t completely dissimilar to the MGA-manufactured Bratz Dolls. Although they may have been assembled as a marketable, profit-producing commodity–perhaps with both Bratz and the Spice Girls in mind–Edwards assures TMN that you won’t catch them in a mini-skirt.

“When we first got together we knew straight away that we didn’t want to dress in skimpy outfits, mini skirts and bras and go onstage. We’re all into the music and bringing all the old-school elements back rather than a lot of sexiness... As cheesy as this sounds, the girl power.” She looks to the other three: “We’re all about that, aren’t we?”

While it’s easy to form comparisons to The Spice Girls, Little Mix couldn’t be more flattered, even from those collating the two on a superficial level. “It’s about time for the return of the girl group,” says Nelson, the most wide-eyed and open of the bunch. “For me personally, when I was younger I loved that I had somebody to look up to. The Spice Girls were great role models: they had strong opinions; they were all different shapes and sizes; they weren’t perfect. I think that’s real, I feel that’s what we’re all about.”

After auditioning as solo artists, the four were put together by X Factor producers during the show’s bootcamp stage. However, all four had actually formed a contingency plan after looking at the soloist talent, and began marketing themselves as a group. “One day me and Jesy [Nelson] were looking at each other in the mirror,” laughs Pinnock. “And we thought, ‘we’d look really good together in a group wouldn’t we?’” “The talent [level] was just so high,” adds Nelson. “So we were just trying to keep our options open in case we didn’t get through on our own... We just stuck together and were hoping for the best.”

Interestingly, along for the televised ride and climacteric win last December, were thousands of international fans who followed the journey online. With over a thousand Little Mix-dedicated (and utterly devoted) Twitter accounts, it’s no wonder Australia has been quick to jump on the wagon. “There’s nothing better than coming off that plane and seeing like two hundred girls there supporting you,” says Thirlwall, the group’s most pensive member.

“The amount of fans here is just ridiculous,” adds Edwards. “It’s a massive compliment, they’re having to work hard to get us, do you know what I mean?... We’re the luckiest girls ever.” “Obviously we want to be known for our music and not as that group off The X Factor,” adds Thirlwall, “and that will change when the [debut] album comes out, but we’re so grateful for the show.”

Edwards’ relationship with One Direction’s Zayn Malik could have easily been detrimental; when Malik asked Nova Radio receptionist Anna Crotti on a date during their last stint in the country, the young woman received death threats via her personal Facebook account. However, the group does admit it was a stratagem of theirs to gain female support from the beginning. “When we first got together we were like ‘we have to get the girls on our side’,” says Nelson. “They’re the ones that vote.”

“A lot of our fans were One Direction fans anyway,” says Edwards. “So as we grew as a group they’ve just supported us.” Despite the negativity that surrounds manufactured groups, the resurgence of boy bands is well and truly underway; regardless of whether or not Little Mix become global stars, if they can stop young girls from idolising women who view their ‘ogle areas’ as foodstuffs, then the rebirth of Girl Power will be cause for celebration.

Live Review: Refused, Sydney


14 November 2012
by Poppy Reid

Tuesday November 13
Enmore Theatre, Sydney, NSW

Sometimes punk rock is beautiful because it’s a reflection of what life should be, and sometimes it’s just a stupid clique for adolescents. When it’s time to die, who is ready to die as nobly and as gloriously as the fact of our mortality demands? Who is ready for that? By the time you die, you’re so exhausted and so beaten and miserable, you can only die.” – from Refused Are Fucking Dead.

The solemn story of Refused has plagued their zealots and the creatives who shaped their own stylistic hedonism and integrity on the band who punk rock could not save.

This concert may have been fourteen years in the making, and would have been vastly different had it come any earlier, but thankfully, somehow, Refused are still the non-conformist visionaries whose romanticised ethos haven’t wavered.

From the menacing pound of David Sandstrom’s bass drum to Dennis Lyxzén’s first leg-jerk - which kicked off his androgynous front in opening tracks The Shape Of Punk To Come and The Refused Party Program - Refused eclipsed any doubt that the close-to-forty-year-olds had lost their vexation. In fact, over almost two hours at Sydney’s Enmore Theatre, the Swedish five-piece sounded more embroiled with fervour than they ever had been.

“We wrote all these songs when we were younger and we were super angry,” says Lyxzén while taking first-timers through a history crash course. “And one of the things we said was ‘how are these songs going to hold up when you're 40 and wearing skin tight pants?’”

As the guitars melted into the first lines of Rather Be Dead, the crowd screaming “than alive by your oppression,” the track hit a chord with all who knew their tragic story. This was the track they didn’t get to finish, this was the last sound before their split, these were the words screamed before police came to their rescue, ending the exhaustion in a Virginian basement. Lyxzén stacked two amps vertically on one another at the cusp of the stage, mounting the two with ease for the penultimate chant; the crowd seemed both anxious and exalted before his rhythmic leap back onto the wood.
“It was life,” Lyxzén declared as he explained their absence. “It fucked you over, it fucked us over, but then again if we did come in ‘98 we would have played the fucking Annandale Hotel or something.”

Throughout tracks like Summerholidays vs. Punkroutine and Hook, Line and Sinker, each member harboured their own mania, still looking like adolescent punks out to start a riot, which they did. Lyxzén created a circle pit with a simple twirl of his index finger during the track inspired by the mosh mainstay. “I like the fact that you're very rowdy people here in Australia,” he laughed.

Later, the frontman tried to tell a Patti Smith anecdote only to be forced off course by a shouter. “You start your own fucking band. I'll come and see you and you can say whatever you want,” he laughed. “I mean that, I will come see you.”

As guitars created a state of emergency alarm sound preceding final tracks Refused Are Fucking Dead, Worms of the Senses and Faculties of the Skull, Sandstrom and his rapid-fire percussion drew a playground for the other players to loom over.

After a dangerous encore, where Lyxzén entered the crowd and one radical made it onstage, Refused had surprised, awakened and satiated. This was a band who the mainstream had ignored, yet a band who have inspired so much of what falls under the umbrella now. And even now, fourteen years after their tragic end, Refused are still an untouched acme of alternative music.

Live Review: Matchbox Twenty, Sydney

                                                                             Photography: Rebecca Holden


31 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

Fourteen years ago, Matchbox Twenty performed Sydney’s 16,000 capacity Enmore Theatre in the wake of their 8x Platinum debut Yourself Or Someone Like You. Last night they returned for a sold-out concert at the 13,250 capacity Entertainment Centre, in support of their ARIA #1 album North.

But their first of two Sydney concerts wasn’t about numbers or accolades, or even to prove they still had it after sixteen years together (which they very much do), according to frontman Rob Thomas, it was about us.

“If you guys give us your time tonight, for the next two hours we're going to celebrate you.”
The lights swayed bright across the crowd for new track and opener Parade. Thomas, bassist Brian Yale (who danced endearingly throughout), ex-drummer-turned-rhythm-guitarist Paul Douchette and lead guitarist/vocalist Kyle Cook gave the fresher material just as much avidity as old favourites like Bent, Disease and the Tabitha’s Secret track, 3AM.

The backdrop screens projected the band’s journey perfectly, from the complacent-looking plump man on the cover of their debut to the full She’s So Mean music video, which showed the band's new taste in ‘art’ – Matchbox Twenty are still riding a monumental passage, and as two young teenage boys joined the 40-something couples, the flock of women in matching homemade MB20 shirts, and the side-stage security in singing every lyric verbatim, it’s clear it is far from tapering.


Among the 112 highlights were the opening backing vocals from Douchette and Cook turning midway track All Your Reasons into what could have introduced an Act II with its epic variations; Thomas’ subtle hip swivels while Douchette unleashed havoc taking over from touring drummer Stacy Jones, and again for his ferocious two-drum contribution to new track English Town; Cook mouthing every lyric when he was sans mic and his solo vocal debut in co-penned track The Way, and also the beautiful interaction during So Sad So Lonely, where Thomas took a fan’s iPhone and filmed himself and Cook for a full verse as they crouched on the edge of the stage.

Matchbox Twenty’s concert meant more than just a night out for their Sydney fans. The quartet and their collection harboured a mixture of emotions for everyone; a happy place, a place to wallow in self-pity, a place of vindication, but most of all a celebration that one of the world’s best group’s are still having infectious fun and branching out over their long and glorious career.

Album Review: Anberlin, Vital


30 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

After the lambast of emotional and stylistic schizophrenia on fifth album Dark Is the Way, Light Is a Place, Anberlin have finally found their utopia. It’s clear they’re at peace in subtle pop-rock borders, where main lyricist Stephen Christian is free to indulge in a sophisticated croon while ‘80s-style synths pepper the background.

In the wake of ten years and five albums together, the Florida five-piece were faced with the age-old decision for album six, the same decision they were forced to make from number three onward: dare they evolve or placate fans and fade into the abyss; to write, record and perform with their loyal fanbase a mind-constant, or to take the born rite of every creative type and explore new territory? It’s an idiom that’s bound to backfire whichever path is taken but while fans have always been fickle creatures, Anberlin have passed through unscathed this time.

Sure, some tracks are a little staggering when paired against previous jaunts, the tossed-off track Orpheum, and cheesy ballad Innocent (with lyrics like “I miss you so much” and “we were born to run carefree”). But with vigorous opener Self-Starter featuring Nashville singer Julia Marie, the radio-ready single Someone Anyone, and the fulgurant rage of guitars and slap percussion in Little Tyrants, most criticisms will simply bounce off of Vital’s cohesive armour.

Producer Aaron Sprinkle (MXPX, Pedro The Lion, Deftones, Emery), who helmed Anberlin’s three previous records and their Godspeed EP, has underscored the record with his distinct tautness. As he has done in the past with this band, Sprinkle has formed a portrait of what an Anberlin album should look like in 2012, bracing it against his earlier blueprints with the band.

While bands like Emery, Silverstein and Senses Fail-who underwent their embryonic stage along with Anberlin-haven’t moved beyond their cult status (bar the release of Silverstein’s Short Songs album in February), Anberlin have grown quite soft, in a way that should be seen as perennial rather than weak.

The fact Vital has failed to creep past the ARIA’s Top 40 doesn’t make this band any less fascinating; it’s still their fourth to chart here in Australia and as Christian chants in the sullen dolor of album closer God, Drugs & Sex - “let go, let go of me now, I’m already gone,” in one litany he addresses his fans’ possessiveness of earlier sounds and captures the crux of what has made Anberlin so significant.

Live Review: The Black Keys, Sydney


23 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

Monday October 22
Sydney Entertainment Centre, NSW

While Nashville blues-rock is always welcome on our shores, The Black Keys gathered an exceptionally feverish crowd at Sydney’s Entertainment Centre last night.

Along for the ride were Sydney band Royal Headache, who despite the groundswell of interest surrounding their excellent debut record, are still coming into their own as a live act; a stagnant opening slot at one of Sydney’s biggest live venue just didn’t sit right for these Pitchfork-touted garage-rockers, and it showed. However, as frontman Shogun entered the audience to hug his parents after the set, it was worth the cringe-worthy parts just to witness a rare moment before the band’s preordained rise.

From their gumption-laden entrance - tall shadows strutting behind back screens - to their powerful hot-lit exit, Sydney watched on with open mouths and tapping limbs as The Black Keys charmed their way through a twenty-song set.

Industrial backing bulbs pulsated white heat in all the best parts of opening tracks Howlin’ For You and Next Girl, each filament fading to orange after the switch. Singer/guitarist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney together created the vast wall of sound every rock band dreams of; positioned side-by-side, sharing equal limelight, the duo took us over the hills and through the valleys of a decade's worth of committed bliss.


With Auerbach’s cosmic bravado in both his epic guitar solos and soaring vocals, and Carney’s beautiful energy, one could simply watch either member for the set’s full duration and still leave dragging your jaw across the ground.

“We're gonna play just the two of us for a while,” said Auerbach, before new tracks like Little Black Submarines, Money Maker and early tracks like Strange Times and Sinister Kid. Even without touring members Nick Movshon (bass) and John Wood (keyboards), The Black Keys were able to create the same dialling drones and full sound on their own.

Closing with ARIA #2 Lonely Boy (stirring ARIA CEO Dan Rosen to his feet) Auerback and Carney unsurprisingly had saved the best for last. Returning for extended versions of Everlasting Light and I Got Mine (while the crowd were disco-drenched in swirling light), it seems that when The Black Keys are on form, not one touring act in what’s shaping up to be 2012's most spoiled-for-choice month of live music can match their rock steady.

Thursday

Album Review: Coheed and Cambria, The Afterman: The Ascension


05 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

When Coheed and Cambria announced their sixth release would be a double concept album following an astronomer named Sirius Armory through an alternate universe called Heaven’s Fence (a concept picked up by none other than Mark Wahlberg and Stephen Levinson to develop into a live-action feature film) and that its deluxe edition would include a hardcover coffee table book, not one of their zealots flinched.

The New York quartet have been waxing-existentialist and shaping their ever-developing sci-fi tetralogy The Armory Wars - about two protagonists, Coheed and Cambria - since 1995. As for the accompanying tome, well this isn’t the first time the band have gone that extra mile for the project; 2003’s In Keeping Secrets Of Silent Earth: 3 was released alongside a graphic novel (which this year reached #4 on the New York Times Bestsellers list), and 2010’s Year Of The Black Rainbow was offered with a novel.

Touted “the most honest record I’ve ever written” by frontman and creative linchpin Claudio Sanchez, The Afterman’s integrity will be told in two parts, the first The Afterman: The Ascension is out later this month before second instalment The Afterman: The Descension is out February next year. Self-financed and honed in Sanchez’s basement, The Afterman… marks the return of drummer Josh Eppard, who left in 2006, but sees the band journey into new territory with their sound. While Coheed and Cambria have always genre-crossed between their hardcore roots, prog-rock, soul and even intelligent pop on some tracks, The Afterman… is a different dimension altogether.

From the piano-driven opening in The Hollow, accompanied only by three lines of dialogue percolating extraterrestrial ambience, and the multi-pronged attack of Key Entity Extraction | Domino The Destitute where Sanchez wails thick and effervescent about Sirius Armory’s expedition, (punctuated with snippets of what sounds like sport commentary), The Afterman: Ascension pays homage to long-time fans with nods to past classics while stepping in a different direction and forging a whole new legacy.

The title track is where Sanchez goes off the trail to make exceptional exceptions, instead of sticking to his preconceived ideals which consistently fall in line with the tetralogy’s narrative arc, he has used his wife’s personal story of her friend’s death (which she found out through Facebook) and tells it from her perspective. From the darling opening plucks, which remain a subdued constant, to the slow building guitars and Sanchez’ growling whisper, The Afterman was an obvious choice for lead single, fans will be grateful the rest of the record is exempt of any carbon copies, given its charm.

Elsewhere, the flushes in future-scape Goodnight Fair Lady - where Sanchez’ drifting falsetto floats alongside casual, syncopated Thin Lizzy-esque drumming, and the anthemic rise of Mothers Of Men - the cinematic offering where guitars and vocals conduct a dialogue - this release allows the listener to hear and feel what the protagonists are going through, more than ever before.

Whether you want to lose yourself in the cryptic storyline that surrounds this opus, or you simply like to take each record at face value, Coheed and Cambria have created a post-apocalyptic dream that can’t be ignored, no matter how fleeting the experience.

The Afterman: The Ascension is out now.

Label Spotlight: Fat Wreck Chords, with Fat Mike


09 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

More than two decades ago when Fat Mike started Fat Wreck Chords, the NOFX frontman’s motives were simple – he saw friends doing it and thought he could do it just as well. Since starting the label in 1990 with his then wife Erin (who remians his business partner), Mike Burkett has created an iconic brand, home to the biggest names in American punk rock.
With releases from Against Me!, Anti-Flag, Rancid, No Use For A Name and Rise Against in the past and acts like Lagwagon, Descendents, Strung Out and Frenzal Rhomb on the current roster, Fat Wreck Chords is still weaving its legacy and helping like-minded folk keep the culture alive – all on a one-record-deal policy. But as the prolific and candid founder tells TMN, there did come a time when he considered throwing in the towel.

I remember selling Lagwagon records, and I think we sold 2,000 the first year. There was Epitaph and there was Lookout! and Dischord, and there weren’t many good labels besides that. I just saw a lot of good bands on tour and I thought I’d give it a shot, but you know, in the early ‘90s selling 10,000 records was as much as you could sell. Bad Religion’s Suffer (1988) had sold 12,000 records and that was unbelievable; you don’t think you’re going to be a successful label, but I guess I thought I could make money doing it - I had no idea that we’d have bands that would sell millions of records.
I’ve thought about giving it up for the past few years, we had a couple of years where we were losing money, terribly.

Look at the Billboard charts, records sell one tenth of what they used to sell. You sell 50,000 records and you can be #1 on the chart, so it’s just the music industry is failing and it’s going to keep failing but I think to have a small label, if you do it right, you can still survive.
 
What happened then was we cut down people; we went from eighteen people to five people. We had two choices, the choice that was the smartest one was to stop the label and just sell the back catalogue, and then you have no expense, just money coming in. We didn’t want to do that, so my wife and I at the time were like, ‘Let’s just revamp it and re-work it and see if we can make money out of it still’. So we did. That ended up being a really smart thing, now we’re making money again, and we’re selling records that are pretty good. All we did was trickle back into the label we were igniting.
I want to keep the label as a punk rock label, I don’t want to go into emo or weird shit, I don’t want popular music I want to keep it a punk rock label about good music.

Fat Wreck Chords have recently released new material from NOFX, Morning Glory and Cobra Skulls, and reissues from Lagwagon and Less Than Jake. The Fat Wreck Chords store in California is open Fridays from 3-6pm, they offer free beer to anyone who walks in.

NOFX: Secret Society



16 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

While NOFX fans were gushing over the release of twelfth studio album Self-Entitled, Mike Burkett (aka Fat Mike) was donning leather and exercising his trademark hedonism at Jamaican fetish event Kink In The Caribbean.

“It’s a rubberist's vacation resort where weirdos take over the whole hotel and the beach and get real weird,” Burkett explains nonchalantly down the phone from his home in San Francisco. “It’s fabulous. Are you kinky?” The forthcoming frontman has just returned with girlfriend Soma Snakeoil who makes a living from sharing his perversions – “My girlfriend is a dominatrix but occasionally we’ll switch, occasionally I’m her daddy.”

Although Self-Entitled sees the band take heed from the roots of American punk rock in the early ‘80s - both musically and lyrically (re: the track Ronnie and Mags about Reagan and Thatcher) – Snakeoil’s influence (I Believe In Goddess) and his embrace of the BDSM scene (Secret Society) show a new side to Burkett, quirks he likens to the type of album he set out to make.

“The BDSM world is super secret and fun,” he says before holding the phone away to shout, “we’re having steak tonight, two… It’s fucking dark,” he continues. “It’s very reminiscent to me of early punk rock, because it’s secret.”

It may come as a surprise that Burkett has had a dungeon in his home for over twenty years, but BDSM has been a part of his life since the age of twelve. “It was the first time I was privy to kinky porn,” he remembers. “My mum had a bunch of dirty magazines, you know Penthouse and Playboy and stuff, and none of it ever really did it for me. I read a kink magazine and it had some kinky story, I was like ‘oh, this is what being turned on is’.”

Burkett had been fronting NOFX for six years when he began to practice his leanings to the ‘scene,’ as he calls it. A dabbling which started with a magazine lead him to study Human Sexuality in college, ex-wife Erin – who remains his business partner at his label Fat Wreck Chords – and more recently to Snakeoil, who he now produces fetish films for.

“For me it’s a pre-requisite, there’s been lots of things that I would like to do that my partner didn’t want, and then we ended up doing it and it turned out to be awesome.
“Cutting was never my thing, I was never a cutter. But [Snakeoil], she loves medical stuff. Once she totally bound me and took a scalpel then carved an ‘S’ on my inner thigh. It was deep and she went over it a few times and spanked it, slapped it. It was cool because it was right when we first started going out and she put a permanent mark on me, and it was hers, she made me hers.”

Candid anecdotes like this are almost expected of Burkett, after his performance as alter-ego Cokie The Clown at SXSW festival in 2010 – where he used the stage as a cathartic sound-board to reveal personal experiences – NOFX fans saw Burkett as vulnerable and weathered for the very first time. This melancholy has only bled onto a NOFX album once, in the form of My Orphan Year, a track released a month after the SXSW debacle. Burkett does plan to release more “really dark personal songs” though, in fact he has enough written to record an LP.
 
My Orphan Year was about as dark as [long-time NOFX] fans had ever seen me go, and that’s not nearly as dark as these songs… I tell the stories I told at that performance, about my mother dying of cancer and how she asked me to kill her earlier so she wouldn’t suffer. “One of the songs is about what I went through to do that, in serious detail.” Burkett speaks clinically about his past as if one-step removed. “Another song is about a rape that me and our guitar player Eric witnessed,” he says. “But it was these gangsters in LA in this really bad neighbourhood and we didn’t do a thing to stop it; I talk about my roommate who hung himself and I had to cut him down, some pretty dark shit.”

While NOFX have watched music and each others’ lives peak and crash, fade and change over almost three decades together, they’re yet to release an autobiography, until now. Apparently it has been in the works for over a year, and is being penned by a journalism amateur known only as Jeff. “It’s pretty crazy how deep people are going,” Burkett says of his bandmates. “I can’t believe some of the stuff that people are sharing, I think it’s going to be a pretty good book… I’m pretty open about my life, I’m happy that the other guys shared stuff that we’ve always been so secretive about.”
With no book release timeframe set, and no plans to tour Australia until 2014, fans can be genuinely placated with Self-Entitled; an album that is as socially awake as it is crude, while nodding to early offerings from genre pioneers Bad Religion and the Circle Jerks – not that Burkett cares about the reaction anyway.

“I always need some kind of inspiration, and it never is: ‘What will I do to please my fans?’ or ‘What will people like?’, it’s not my interest ever,” he states. “I just wanted to make an album that sounded like: ‘If we were around in 1981, what would it sound like?' That was my inspiration, and however this ranks against our other records, I don’t really care.”

Timomatic: Mr. Incredible


05 October 2012
by Poppy Reid

In the not-too-distant past, winning a televised talent show in Australia didn’t necessarily convert to stardom. Some winners were even berated for a chart placing that surmounted a less ‘manufactured’ act. One artist wholly aware of the changing times is Timomatic, the 24-year-old who entered Australian lounge-rooms on two different networks, on two vastly different talent shows.

“When an opportunity comes up where you have the platform to show exactly what you can do to a large amount of people-I took it and I ran with it. I don’t think I’d do it any other way.”
Nigerian-born Tim Omaji is gathering his breath at Sony Music’s Sydney offices after working on a surprise for fans before the release of his self-titled sophomore record. “I wanted to do the whole album a cappella in my native tongue,” he says very seriously. “I’m joking. Can you imagine?” he asks, laughing infectiously as he attempts it. “I don’t know my native tongue!”

Timomatic was actually filming dance accompaniments to each of the thirteen tracks on the album, and while he’s set on continuing his singing career, the hovering reminder of when he first made his name in 2009 (as a top eight contestant on Channel Ten’s So You Think You Can Dance) has only added to his semblance. In fact, it’s a venture Timomatic would never have taken without his mother’s push.

“She was like ‘the one thing you’re lacking is a fan-base, you have no one to perform to’,” he chuckles, imitating his mother. “’It’s all well and good you performing around here and doing your thing, but you need to get out there!’”

Since his formative years studying music and teaching dance in Melbourne, Timomatic placed third on Australia’s Got Talent in 2011, landed a role in Fame The Musical, inked a deal with Sony (and later a worldwide contract with EMI Music Publishing), and watched his single Set It Off become the most played Australian song at radio in the first six months of the year. The triple- threat has been songwriting since the age of fourteen and drummed in his family gospel band as soon as he could pick up sticks - so a career in music was always held above all else.

“When I would hear music I would create things in my head, naturally. I was like ‘I have to find where that part of my brain is going to fit in the real world’ – that was my quest,” he says. “When I heard the feeling I thought I would love to give that feeling to other people.”

Although he felt the parental push to audition for So You Think You Can Dance, Timomatic was very calculating when mapping out his career in 2009. “At that time it was all about Australian Idol and I felt that that show wasn’t exciting anymore,” he says. “It had its day... I guess the golden era of that show was kind of over.” The dance craze was just taking off after a successful season in the US and as Timomatic explains, he didn’t trust his vocal talent just yet. “I hadn’t really established my sound as an artist so I thought, ‘Go with what is established’.”

Televised talent shows are still booming in Australia, with over one million tuning in each night to watch various forms of filmed reality. The community of national winners is also growing as more programmes make their way across international waters, and with successful artists like Guy Sebastian, Jess Mauboy and Justice Crew, Timomatic is content with the epithets thrown upon his talent show populace.

“I think reality talent shows get a bad name too easily,” he considers. “More so from people already in the music industry who have established their names, but people forget that greats of our time got to where they are using that same medium.”

Another misconception about reality show talent surrounds their supposed hurried climb to fame. For Timomatic, it’s been an eight-year journey since he “heard the feeling” he wanted to share, and while the eponymous record marks his second release, it’s his most autobiographical, peppered with intimate nuances and self-production.

“There are songs on there which are more organic and showcase my voice,” he says. “They show I’m more musically inclined than, ‘Hey yo! Let’s have a party’ - you know what I mean?”

Thus is the dichotomy of manufactured fame, on one hand Timomatic is proud of his malleable stage and the associations it garners, but it seems the lead up to this album was largely spent ostracising the past.

“I had that exposure, I’ve got the fan-base to support me and be able to go to the next level and not be associated with it,” he states. “In any artistic person’s career, you don’t want to held by the things you did a year ago.”

Sunday

Hanson: In an MMMBop



17 September 2012
by Poppy Reid

It’s been two decades since three effeminate brothers from Tulsa, Oklahoma performed their first live show, and fifteen years since they dominated global radio with a pop track lead by a wordless hook. Taylor, Zac and Isaac Hanson have been wholly in charge of their careers since 2003 when they started their own label (3CG Records), so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that when the phone rings from Los Angeles, the middle child has even cut out the middleman. “Hi this is Taylor Hanson, I’m calling for the interview.”

The 29-year-old singer-songwriter/ multi-instrumentalist doesn’t use phone operators it seems, and has been taking the lead since he was nine; from the outside, it’s been a steady, wholesome twenty years exempt of any teen idol imprudence.

“It’s interesting how when people think of rock bands they think they idolise excess, being completely excessive, drug overdoses and rehab,” lists Hanson mannerly. “But honestly that stuff was just never,” he pauses, “I mean who really wants that?”

Since the runaway success of their magnum major-label debut Middle Of Nowhere, Hanson went from three boys toying with borrowed instruments to the muse of every young girl’s wet dream, and while they’ve successfully created solitary space-now each married with eight (soon to be nine) children between them-closet owners of the band’s Poster Power collection are selling out shows across the country, armed with new(ish - the 2010 record is only now seeing an Australian release) album Shout It Out. Currently on our shores for the first time since 2005, when they recorded The Best of Hanson: Live & Electric in Melbourne, the band has been living in a carefully crafted paradox, a situation Hanson doesn’t find remotely odd.

“We can go out, have a good time, do some stupid stuff where no one took pictures or video of us and embrace life in a positive way,” he says, as if one of his zealots may be within earshot.
“We’re not running away from having a good time but we’re also not looking every day for something to do in excess.”


Over the phone, Hanson can come across perfunctory and media savvy but as the conversation flows it’s apparent any preconceived ideals he has, however diplomatic, have been ingrained since childhood - a disposition most pop stars would envy. Perhaps it has something to do with the five embryonic years the band spent touring their two independent albums, or the years ‘pre-Def Jam Records contention,’ when they were forced to prove they weren’t just a manufactured band. “When you have success you’re gonna have to choose which battles to fight.” Hanson doesn’t sweat the specifics. “We were really young and we had success so there was a natural inclination to go ‘oh my gosh, this can’t really be for real?’ That’s just part of our story and we’ve never let the idea that some people didn’t get it in the beginning get in our way.”

It’s also possible the boys just came from good stock. Hanson says parents Clarke and Diana were always the comforting presence in the wings. “They were never involved from the point of view of telling anyone what they could and couldn’t do but they were definitely at our side... we never had that Svengali in the back steering everything we were doing,” he says, quashing rumours of the early years. “We always had a real strong sense of self and we had people close to us that were protective of what we were doing, and thankfully we came out of it in one piece!”


Their parents were largely responsible for Hanson’s sound: infectious harmony-drenched hooks affixed to classic song structures that mined ‘60s pop records, and while the world was shocked at the talent of the three pre-pubescent brothers, the boys themselves were only mimicking the maturity and grace of their idols.

“We’d always looked up to great musicians and rock ‘n’ roll icons,” remembers Hanson. “Many of them were much older than we were, you’re talking about The Beach Boys and The Beatles and people like Ray Charles, all of which were in their teens when they first had success, so we felt we were right on schedule!”

For such a famously uncontroversial pop group, the band do inspire a sense of surprise that their private activities haven’t changed much since the early family outings to Redwood forests (re: 1997 documentary Tulsa, Tokyo and The Middle Of Nowhere). For Hanson, a legacy reminiscent of The Beach Boys-who just finished up their 50th anniversary tour of Australia-has always been the zenith aspiration.

“It’s always been about having a career,” Hanson states. “Having a long career, and honestly being able to make this our day job and continue to go out there and make music, as our lives. Thankfully we’ve been able to do that.”

While the honeyed third of Hanson has always been the dominant voice of the group, in charge of most press commitments, blogging, and the co-writing of Take The Walk-a philanthropic-heavy book created “to turn our simple pursuits of being artists into something positive so that people could begin to join us,” –he’s inadvertently in charge of the band’s public image; a role which spearheaded the charge from small-town family band to big-city bubblegum giants.

“You are aware of it and you do have some sort of responsibility to kind of handle yourself,” he admits. “But that was never particularly difficult because I guess we had a gauge of: we make records, we play shows, we travel - that’s a pretty good thing! It’s worth it to have the constant sidenote of ‘be a good guy and deal with the pressures right.’”

Most ridiculous lawsuits in music


04 September 2012
by Poppy Reid

TMN have covered some of the most entertaining lawsuits in recent months, and as we're the self-appointed dukes of nostalgia, we've put together a list of our favourite allegations for you to poke fun at.

John Fogerty sued for plagiarising himself
In 1985 when Creedence Clearwater Revival singer John Fogerty released solo track The Old Man Down the Road, he didn’t once think he may be sued for plagiarising his own work.
In 1993, Fogerty was brought before the United States Supreme Court for copyright infringement after Fantasy Records owner Saul Zaentz claimed the track was CCR’s 1970 track Run Through the Jungle with different lyrics. Fantasy owned the rights to Run Through The Jungle and felt Fogerty was profiting of the song.

The label owner had previously sued long-time foe Fogerty for $144 million after claiming Fogerty's tracks Zanz Kant Danz and Mr. Greed painted Zaentz as “a thief, robber, adulterer, and murderer.” Fogerty settled this case out of court (because... well, it did) but the self-plagiarism case was very much laughed out of the courtroom.

Lindsay sues baby used on commercial ad campaign
Of course sporadic singer Lindsay Lohan should make this list. She’s been embroiled in many-a-lawsuit ever since she went through the wrong career/life-choices door after the excellent Mean Girls. But it wasn’t her defamation case against Pitbull (before he counter-sued), that tops her list of Most Ridiculous Efforts To Make A Buck.

In March 2010 Lohan filed a suit against E-Trade, a financial services company who’s commercial used a baby named Lindsay who was dubbed a "milkaholic." Even if E-Trade did seek the association, this case still should have been dismissed as soon as Lohan disclosed she wanted $100 million in damages. The case was settled in September with neither parties revealing the sum of their stupidity.

Avril Lavigne sued for stealing a '70s song
When Avril Lavigne was sued for plagiarising a '70s track "she's never heard of", not many people were surprised. Said to have ripped of The Rubinoos’ ’79 single I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend, the Dr. Luke co-write for Girlfriend was sent to a musicologist by Lavigne's lawyers in 2008 who (surprise, surprise) found no similarities. Despite publicly claiming they wouldn't settle out of court, Lavigne's lawyers later weighed up the potential costs of a lawsuit and decided to settle after all, leaving the Canadian singer to write pop ditties about her lacklustre love life - although this song comes dangerously close to Alanis Morrisette's Head Over Feet.

Placebo album cover star blames band for his failure at life
Remember the weird 12-year-old on the cover of Placebo’s 1996 self-titled debut? Well, the now 28-year-old David Fox sued the UK band in June this year, claiming the infamy from the #5 charting album (in the UK) led to bullying and unemployment after he felt forced to drop out of school. The band have since told Fox to direct his suit at Virgin, who released the album.


Miley Cyrus sued for racism
In early 2009 Miley Cyrus took a pretty tasteless photograph with her friends, inciting one LA resident to file a $4 billion lawsuit against her. The apparent violation of “the civil rights of Asian Pacific Islanders” was filed by Lucie J. Kim who requested the then 16-year-old pop singer to give $4 million to each of the over 1.9 million Asians in Los Angeles. Cyrus did publicly apologise, but nine months later the case was dismissed.


Carey vs. Carey
Mariah Carey might have been involved in a few sex tape scandals in the past but in 2006 she fought to keep her ever-so wholesome image in tact. The pop singer sued a porn star who was working under the name Mary Carey. Ridiculously, a judge agreed the adult actress should change her name and the suit was passed.


George Harrison ‘subconsciously’ plagiarises
When George Harrison released his triple-album All Things Must Pass in 1971, a year after the dissolution of The Beatles, he proved two things: that he had a shed-load of unreleased tunes built up after years of playing third-fiddle to Lennon and McCartney–understandable when you have the greatest songwriting team in history–and that he had definitely, definitely heard The Chiffons 1963 hit She's So Fine. Bright Tunes Music Corporation certainly agreed, filing a suit alleging that Harrison had plagiarised the tune in his single My Sweet Lord... twice - in the bridge and in the verse. Basically, he stole the whole thing. The case took five years to go to trial, and dragged out for ten years after the verdict (lesson: don't sue a Beatle), but a judge ruled that Harrison was guilty of "subconscious plagiarism" - a fairly rubbish ruling, considering the marked similarity. Being a Beatle, Harrison simply avoided all the bother by purchasing Bright Tunes, and therefore the song. S'pose you didn't hear James Taylor's Something In The Way She Moves when it was released on your own label, either George? He was always the subconscious Beatle...

Mother sues Justin Bieber for damaging her hearing
A mother who took her daughter to the singer’s Oregon gig in July 2010 is requesting $9.23 million in damages. Stacey Wilson Betts alleges Bieber “enticed the crowd into a frenzy of screams,” damaging her hearing. While we’re sure Biebs did in fact entice the crowds into frantic, eardrum-bursting bubbles of tween hysteria, we’re also banking on the fact mother Stacey Wilson Betts hasn’t been to a live concert since ’83 when she [allegedly] threw her bra onstage at a Jimmy Osmond concert. [speaking of potential lawsuits]

Jim Morrison’s parents sue remaining members of The Doors
In 2003, the parents of Jim Morrison filed a trademark suit against the remaining members of The Doors. Ray Manzarek and Robbie Krieger had been mourning Jim’s loss since 1971, and they, like many bands who lose a member at their prime, decided the most tasteful way to pay tribute to their departed friend was by touring with a new frontman (The Cult’s Ian Astbury) - in this case, under the name The Doors of the 21st Century.
 
"Defendants have knowingly, intentionally and maliciously misappropriated and infringed upon the valuable name and logo of the Doors,” the suit read, "by stealing these valuable property rights and employing them for the purpose of naming, promoting and marketing a new band."
To make matters even more convoluted, the parents of Morrison's (Val Kilmer) late wife, Pam Courson (Meg Ryan) also got in on the suit and unfortunately had every right to, because of their 25% ownership stake of the estate. After the case went to trial in 2005 it was ruled that the Morrison estate won a permanent injunction preventing Manzarek (Kyle McLachlan) and Krieger using the name (they now play under 'Riders Of The Storm'). While The Doors were only actively recording for five years with the self-appointed Lizard King at the helm, The Doors have sold over 49 million records since his death. The poetry books have sold more modestly...

Matchbox Twenty: True North


31 August 2012
by Poppy Reid

Survivors of the grunge rise, fall and revival, and comeback kings after two hiatuses, Matchbox Twenty have had their fair share of ups and downs. The Florida quintet saw their debut album sell fifteen million copies, reach Diamond certification in the US and clock ten times Platinum in Australia, just one year after forming.

Although the band have since sold 30 million records and are just under two months away from releasing a fourth LP, their seventeen years together did not come without several archetypal rock star epochs and experiences. TMN sat down with drummer/guitarist Paul Douchette and lead guitarist Kyle Cook to reminisce the peaks and valleys that lead them to this sunny suite at Sydney’s Intercontinental hotel.

“There were a couple of moments that got a little dark and kind of sad,” recalls Cook, 37. “I remember my mum coming to a show at the height of all the craziness and I’d forgotten that she was even there because it was like, mayhem. So I end up with this girl back at the hotel and mum knew where my room was and the door was ajar-and I’m wasted,” Cook cowers. “And I didn’t even have sex with the girl! My mum walks in-and I hear this later-she’s like ‘woop’ and this girl is petting me,” he attempts to fold his long legs into a foetal position, “like this.”

The band were on the right side of their teenage years when singles like 3 AM and Push were topping charts on a global scale. “We were on the radio station in every single station on the planet. We’d go into a town and people just kind of gave us the key to the city,” says Douchette.

Rewind three years and interestingly, the track most associate with ‘early Matchbox’ had already been recorded in 1993 for Rob Thomas and Douchette’s previous band, Tabitha’s Secret. Despite the track not even seeing a national release, the project did lead to the pair’s signing with Atlantic Records.

“They weren’t interested [in Tabitha’s Secret], but they were interested in Rob,” Douchette laughs. “For a while Rob started getting a lot of offers to go and he thought ‘well you know what, I think I’m gonna do that’. And they were like ‘well you can bring the bass player and the drummer.’

“Up until the time where we signed our record deal, I had no idea I was going to be on the deal, no clue. I thought I was just going to be Rob’s hired drummer.”

“We’re still employees of Rob,” Cook jokingly admits. “Nothing’s changed.”

While Cook’s slick comment proves he is happily aware of both the players’ perceived and endowed position, he couldn’t be more wrong about Thomas’ personal turnaround. “Rob really went off the rails for a while,” says Douchette, referring to the touring years with Yourself or Someone Like You. “There was a moment when him and I were flying to the UK and he was really trashed. I took him aside and said ‘what the fuck?’-He has told me many times afterward, that that was a pivotal moment where he went ‘okay, I need to slow down’.”

Cook’s opinion mirrors the thoughts of most, give a young man the key to every city he performs and a team of ‘yes men’, and bedlam will ensue. “Quite honestly, us making a gig, a lot of people’s jobs depended on that,” Cook states. “No body was going to tell you ‘look dude you’re really fucked up,’ everyone was like ‘just grab his luggage and get him on the plane’.”

It’s fitting that Douchette and Cook are in Australia without Thomas; throughout their career the band have spent years waiting in the wings, preparing the band’s next venture while the frontman fulfils his solo commitments or collaborations. All five members were in Sydney in 2010 when a plan was hatched for upcoming album North; Thomas was about to tour his second record Cradlesong, so the four members prepared around sixty songs in the interim. Over the next three years, the group would meet at each other’s personal studios culminating demos and capturing the vibe of each city before renting a house with a basement studio in Nashville.

“That kind of got out of hand,” grants Douchette. “We were left to our own devices and we kind of got overwhelmed with the amount of material and the amount of different ways we could take it.” This was also the first time Thomas, Douchette and Cook sat down together to write music. “It was hard for Rob, it was hard for us, at first,” accepts Douchette. Cook cuts in; “which is understandable. Rob felt like he was being demoted a little bit.”

“At the end of the day it didn’t really matter,” continues Douchette. “If Rob wrote all the best songs on the record then it would be a record of all Rob’s songs… but he’s as attached to the songs that are the three of us as he is the songs that are just his.”


After calling in longtime producer Matt Serletic the band spent three months recording the direction he guided them toward and although the band says first single She’s So Mean isn’t at all indicative of the record as a whole, it does pave a more pop rock path. “We talked about [a backlash] with She’s So Mean,” acknowledges Cook. “We’ve seen it on the Internet already. There’s going to be people who really love it and then there’s going to be people that think it’s too poppy. Whatever, it’s how it is.”
Admittedly, a pop direction shouldn’t come as a surprise to fans who have followed Matchbox Twenty from their embryonic days, tracks like Real World in 1998 and How Far We’ve Come in 2007 all have hook and bridge elements that weave through the band’s grunge genesis. “We’re big fans of pop music,” smiles Douchette. Cook is more philosophical, North holds a bigger creative slice than he’s ever offered before; after a five year cessation it’s clear the band have a lot riding on this new leaning.

“You just never know, the very thing that destroys your sound could be the very thing that is the identity of new direction or personality.”

The Rise Of Australian Hardcore

                                                                                Photo credit: Ken Leanfore

28 August 2012
by Poppy Reid

It’s no great revelation that the popularity of hardcore has risen in the last few years. The deep roar of the nation’s discontent has boiled up in the bellies of our pugnacious males for almost 30 years now; but thanks to the likes of Triple J, the growing plethora of home-grown promoters and Byron band Parkway Drive, the acceptance and lauding of the genre has reached an epoch where heavy music has found a place in our airwaves, our music television programmes, our genre-agnostic festivals and even at the ARIA Awards.

Stu Harvey, Triple J’s short.fast.loud radio host and co-founder of Shock Records’ new heavy music imprint Halfcut Records, has been advocating the genre on air for over 14 years. Since launching the Triple J show in 2004, Harvey has closely watched the genre’s ascent.

“I’ve been doing this for quite a while now, I’ve seen the popularity of this genre just absolutely skyrocket,” he says over the phone from Melbourne. “The fact Parkway Drive can sell out a Hordern Pavilion or a Festival Hall, this is a huge deal. There are not many Australian artists who can sell out a venue of that size. It’s a massive, massive audience now and I’ve just seen that from the people that listen to my programme.”

While Parkway Drive have ultimately raised the bar to an almost impossible level for their predecessors–with international accolades and an ARIA in 2010–mateship has been another factor in hardcore’s currency. Luke Logemann of The Staple Group helped launch full-service heavy music collective UNFD (We Are Unified) in January 2011, and has sold over 100,000 records since. His proudest release is The Amity Affliction’s sophomore album Youngbloods, which debuted at #6 on the ARIA chart in 2010 (under UNFD’s previous incarnation as Boomtown Records). Numerical boasting aside, Logemann says it’s the sense of community that has kept the culture alive.

“Bands work hard and help each other out, while the fans and artists have effectively stopped more mainstream/corporate people from influencing or effecting what happens. It’s a ‘for the kids, by the kids’ scene and it always works better when it stays that way.”

A band whose music most ARIA board members would turn their noses up at or consider a detriment to business, found itself accepting an ARIA for Best Hard Rock / Heavy Metal Album (Deep Blue) with their ideologue intact at the nation’s most prestigious annual awards. While those working for and in Australian hardcore know it is longevity that prevails, there has been more local enthusiasm for it than ever before. On Parkway Drive’s last album tour in 2010, the band sold 27,089 tickets to the nine national shows, accumulating over $948,000 - an impressive figure considering most bands who place themselves under the same umbrella would be lucky to draw more than 200 in their home town. Over the phone, Parkway’s frontman Winston McCall is self-effacing about his own achievements but awed by the country’s.

“It’s definitely something that’s grown from a base of individuality here in Australia. Other genres–I wouldn’t say mimick–but do look overseas for inspiration, while Australia can definitely hold that as its core.”

Tailing close behind Parkway Drive are acts like the aforementioned Brisbane band and UNFD signing The Amity Affliction and Melbourne’s Dream On Dreamer who signed to US label Rise Records in 2009. Vastly fan-supported and outside of corporate control, these acts have established themselves over the past decade through consistent touring and an unwavering social media presence. Resist Records founder, Parkway advocate and respected player in the Australian scene, Graham Nixon feels that while these methods are distinctly different to the time when he was becoming aware of the culture, it’s a dichotomous predicament.

“I remember when I first started getting into music, very few Australian hardcore bands had releases out. There weren’t many studios around and they were charging premium rates… Nowadays kids can probably do that at home for free on their computer with Garageband, which is great for the kid, but you’re not helping the talent of the musician.”
Since founding Resist Records in 1998 and signing Parkway Drive in 2004, Graham and his assistant Dani Chalmers can count 110 releases under their name. In July the label released sophomore album Point Of No Return from Perth band Blkout, and are set to release Parkway Drive’s fourth album in the coming months. Mainstream success has never been an endeavour of Nixon’s, nor of any of the scene’s major players; the end game has never been to hold their artists above the fans or about monetary gain. In fact, keeping its severance from the commercial world has always been the core stratagem.

To those who have only listened to the music on a shallow level, the genre’s message matches its music: aggressive, warring and equated with heavily tattooed, dark-clothed nonconformists. And while most of the musicians fit this description, Stu Harvey says the ideologies coming through of late couldn’t be more disparate. “At the moment there’s a lot of what I would call positive hardcore coming through, positive messages that are not about doom and gloom. The music is so raw and angry; it’s a great release from everyday frustration but at the same time it’s shouting about living a good lifestyle.

“It’s intriguing, the hardcore scene probably has a much higher level of people that live that clean lifestyle than probably any other genre of music.”


Unsurprisingly, hardcore music is now a part of mainstream culture, it’s now just as accepted as other subgenres like dubstep or grime. Without the genre seeming extreme or negative, it poses the question: without the associated subversion, has something been taken away from the genre’s core values and ethics? A culture that promotes respect, family and self-preservation. Nixon would say ‘yes’.

“The talented younger bands, I don’t think they have a history of what hardcore is… A lot of bands nowadays are just too caught up with success,” Nixon says during an interview at a Newtown café. “[Parkway] are massively responsible because they’re successful, I think of all the bands that I deal with they’re probably the least concerned, they honestly couldn’t care if they played to 200 people or 20,000 people.”

Many bands now making their way to the forefront seem to be either uneducated on the culture or just blatantly ignoring it. “Some bands submit [to the label] for absolutely everything and that’s their downfall, they don’t know what they’re right for,” continues Nixon. “If you’re a band that sounds like Parkway, don’t submit for a Toy Boats tour. They have no idea about who the band is and that to me says they haven’t done their research.”

Along with social media’s many advantages in gaining direct contact with a band’s fans, heroes and influential label-heads, comes the many enthusiasts who also want a piece of the pie. Nixon receives countless emails, letters and Facebook requests per week, some from aspiring bands, and some from self-professed booking agents, tour and band managers - emails which have a reverse effect on the artist the person is trying to promote.

“They have friends who think they’re booking agents, that’s unfortunately a downfall. They’ll have friends who’ll try and act all professional which I find silly because at the end of the day we’re just doing music, we’re not doing law degrees.”

It could be argued that underground hardcore reached the point of adversity with Byron Bay five-piece Parkway Drive. Stu Harvey suggests that from his seat behind the mic at Triple J, the band are the one off-cut in Australia at this time who have carried the culture’s integrity into 2012.

“What do they do when they’re not onstage? They surf, they jump off bridges, they play video games and they work on being a band; because of that you can see how well they’re doing… As opposed to a band that goes out to party all the time, who put a bit of a use-by-date on being a band.”

The Sydney and Melbourne scenes are particularly tendentious; dedicated weekly heavy music events like Hot Damn! and SFX in Sydney’s city and Next and Bang! in Melbourne create delusions of grandeur for local acts. Some aspiring bands play to a full house of punters who are predominantly at the club for the $5 drinks and the scene credit, and expect to get a big-name support tour the following month.

“I would dare say that 90% of those bands that are on that list would play a headline show and no one would turn up… They’re probably good bands, but there’s something about them that doesn’t have an interest to me… they might think they’re doing a lot but I don’t think they’re doing a lot.

“Unfortunately too many bands will barely have a set list full of songs and they will think, ‘we want to be the next Parkway’. No band has patience.”

Parkway Drive were born out of small town ennui and the desire to revolt against the grunge and American-adopted sounds that had shaped the early ‘90s. Along with acts like I Killed The Prom Queen and Behind Crimson Eyes, the band lead the charge for a new wave of community conscious flag bearers, standing vigil on the outskirts of mainstream consumerism. McCall feels this was their point of difference when they made a name for themselves in rural NSW in 2002.

“We went after our own identity and steered away from the cookie cutter image of the generation before, and I guess that’s where the strength lies.”

For a band who has watched the genre’s popularity cumbersomely seep into national consciousness, McCall has seen every trick in the book used by those chasing rays of limelight. “The sound itself has become so popular to the point where the history of it, the culture of it is literally just about the sound for a lot of people,” he explains. “There’s a lot of it that sounds a hell of a lot like us and a hell of a lot like hardcore bands or whatever, but you’ll find the closest thing they’ve gotten to that kind of music originated a year ago and was influenced by Linkin Park. It’s a world away from the stuff that I was brought up on and the ethics that I hold on to. Hardcore in Australia is to have a strong sense of community and culture and a strong ethical standpoint.”

Interestingly, the bands who do claim to mimic Parkway Drive’s core values are the acts currently associated with up and coming hardcore. House Vs. Hurricane are undoubtedly a part of the genre’s uprising in recent memory; the Melbourne band have undergone multiple lineup revisions since forming in 2006 and released their second record with new frontman Dan Casey and new label UNFD last July. Crooked Teeth debuted at #20 on the ARIA Albums chart but as vocalist Ryan McLerie explains, that was never the main goal.

“We were never like ‘let’s try and get signed’, he says down the phone after a music video shoot. “I don’t think any one of us sat down and said that to one another. It sort of happened on its own. We just started playing shows and people started coming to our shows… It was just ‘let’s play shows with our friends and go crazy’.”

McLerie isn’t completely callow, he does seem to harbour the same ideals as his lionised forefathers but feels it was their sound that first caught our attention. “We were on the front end of that whole keyboard, synthy stuff that’s now its own genre. We were one of the first bands to do that here and I think that got us a lot of attention when we were first starting out.”

Brett Anderson, frontman of Sydney six-piece Buried In Verona knows first-hand how difficult it once was to get Australia’s attention in a predominantly DIY genre. “I think the more weekend warrior bands and the people who aren’t really committed to having a career in it, they’re figuring out early that it’s not really going to work,” he says in an interview at the TMN offices. “We were shit too when we first got into it… It was really difficult to get people to shows and now if they are good, people will spend the twenty bucks and go and watch them, they’ll buy their album, they’ll buy the shirt. People are way more supportive.”


Now on their third album cycle, Buried In Verona have found chart success with this year’s record Notorious. Released on June 1 through UNFD, the album saw them take influences from technical metal, and become the second hardcore act to hit the ARIA top 20 this year, but with upcoming releases from Amity and Parkway, they certainly won’t be the last. “The other two albums just didn’t stand out enough, they were good albums but there was 50,000 other people doing the same thing all around the world,” Anderson simpers. “There wasn’t enough of a difference to set us apart.” Although Anderson admits to the band’s orectic value of notoriety (pun intended), their tenacity since 2007 despite lineup, label and sound changes, has only now paid off with each member quitting their day job just months ago.

This is one of the consistent factors for these bands; they aren’t privy to the reactionary attitude of Australia’s mainstream where an artist can go from studying their HSC to selling out national tours after starring in sixteen episodes of a televised talent show. As Luke Logemann says, infamy only comes to those willing to persevere. “Those bands (Amity Affliction and Parkway Drive) weren’t overnight successes. They just stuck to their guns and toured their arses off until people took notice.”

“The bands from the mid-2000s that jumped on the American emo kinda bandwagon didn’t last very long, but that was a scene that relied on radio and TV. So as soon as they all turned into dance/pop focused stations, the whole thing fell apart really.”

While some radio stations do have dedicated shows that support heavy music and both MTV and Channel [V] do abet it with late-night specials, most media refuse to acknowledge its existence. Publicist Bec Reato has done much to champion the culture throughout her career, leaving her job at major label EMI to work at Shock Records where she contributed to the label’s first #1 album in 2010 with UK metalcore band Bring Me The Horizon. Last year Reato and fellow Shock employee Emily Kelly both left the independent to form their own agency, Deathproof PR. Working closely with record labels and promoters, Reato understands better than most the disadvantage these bands have with popular media.

“Heavy music scares people off and I think a lot of people in the media aren’t really fans of it,” she says during an interview at the Triple J offices. “Traditional media are not going to care about your band unless you’ve got someone going in and telling them why they need to care about it.”

Conversely, it’s been the vision of hardcore as a passion for the culture rather than a commercial portal that has driven independent labels. The majority of bands within the lifestyle opt to sign with an indie for many reasons, some for artistic freedom, or the close-knit family that defines each label, but most acts sign the dotted line with the assurance that they won’t be put to the wayside while the more commercially appealing take priority. With the rise of social media in the last few years, big marketing machines, the 360 major label deal and the manufacturing of bands is now irrelevant. Reato says that when it comes to heavy music in Australia, the four majors are slow-moving beasts who don’t know how to adapt.

“It really surprises me how major labels don’t even realise the potential of some bands they have on their roster just because it falls into this heavy music category, they don’t get it… That was proven with the success of Bring Me The Horizon, it showed there is money to be made there, there is a legitimate genre.”

This hostility has created a double-edged sword situation, where the stigma attached to a major is helping bands find their way toward profit on their own. Stu Harvey, who worked alongside Reato at Shock says bands can have the upper hand if they’re willing to work for it.

“What can a major label give them that they can’t achieve by themselves through hard work, good songs and being good to their fans?”

Be that as it may, McLerie and Anderson have quite conflicting views about major labels. McLerie views the big four as cookie cutting factories who put bands through turning cogs with hopes they’ll come out the other end just as profitable as their last project. “I don’t hear much originality in bands that are getting signed, it’s mostly the bands that don’t get signed that have an original sound,” he scorns. “It’s pretty clear, the record label industry is dying and no one’s making money anymore, they’re signing bands that are safe and that they know they’ll make money from... I don’t think it’ll get any better to be honest.”

Anderson on the other hand, sees nothing wrong in piggybacking through open doors to new opportunities - he feels if Buried In Verona were given the chance to sign a major label deal, they would consider it.

“You’re not going to go far in this industry unless you have someone to get you there,” he says pragmatically. “Who’s going to say no to someone who can take their career to the next level?”

It has to be suggested that perhaps this is one of the chief differences between hardcore culture ten years ago and what’s left of it now. Anderson is in no way wrong or alone in thinking a wider reach is a positive thing, nor is it his fault that many bands are less concerned with the same principles as others. But for a veteran like Graham Nixon, the fact is a little disconcerting.

“Music shouldn’t be about living a rock star lifestyle,” he stresses. “You should wanna play music with your mates. You don’t even have to be talented, you can be the world’s worst guitarist, the guy who plays bass for Parkway can’t play bass, he’s a friend of theirs’ and they said ‘well let’s just give them a go’ and that’s basically what Parkway is about.”

Even though Nixon rarely has to cross paths with the commercial realm, he shares every interviewee’s ire that his life’s work is never put on par. “Guy Sebastian and all that stuff is just lame,” he smiles, “and that’s what’s on the radio right now… There’s been more support on iTunes for The Voice than any Australian act, these kids are just doing covers, they’re people off the street. It doesn’t affect me but it’s sad that that’s reality.”

Reato’s hopes to change all that have never wavered. “What Deathproof are trying to push is more recognition; in an ideal world House Vs. Hurricane would be making as much money as Guy Sebastian.

“Channel [V] have a heavy music show called [V] Loud, it’s on at eleven o’clock on a school night so I’d like to see them get behind it more. MTV don’t even have a heavy music show, they’ve got Headbanger’s Ball but that’s metal only. I’d like to see time slots like that move forward so that it’s in people’s faces a little bit more and,” she laughs, “stop hiding it!”

Logemann’s wish-list is almost identical; with UNFD he foresees an aristocratic attitude towards his roster and while Australia may not happily look upon his acts as ‘the next big thing,’ they’ll at least consider them ‘the next best thing.’

“We do whatever we can to give bands the exposure they deserve, and hopefully, put money in their pockets to keep doing what they do for as long as possible,” he says. “We hope that just means Australian hardcore will continue to thrive the way it has. Later this year with The Amity Affliction, we will likely have our first #1 ARIA record, and Parkway soon after that will probably do the same. It’s only a matter of time before Dream On Dreamer, House Vs Hurricane and [Sydney band] Northlane are filling massive rooms like those two bands. Things are only getting bigger.”

Conversely, if these bands do attract the wider audience that their adherents think they deserve, the effects could just as easily turn sour. With every multi-Platinum record and sold-out arena, the core ethics and educational value of the culture could evanesce.

In fact, it’s possible we’re already halfway there.