| Glasgow
Herald - 2000 by John Williamson | |
They're
loud, rude, and they make a big noise, JOHN WILLIAMSON talks to a Texan combo
with a bad attitude NOTHING upsets a touring band more than being asked to work on a day off. So while And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead are "relaxing" by sitting in a van travelling the less-than-short-haul trip between Dortmund and Brighton, they are inevitably proving elusive and evasive. They have checked out of their hotel. They are at a truck stop eating breakfast. By the time their European tour finally hits the autobahn, the quartet can speak on their head road manager's mobile. It breaks up continually as the phone is passed from member to member, and intelligent conversation is at an absolute premium. Beavis And Butthead-style laughter and a Wu Tang Clan CD provide the background noise. It ends 20 or so minutes later when their tour manager brusquely interjects: "That's probably it now. I'm waiting on important calls." Clearly, Trail Of Dead would rather be left undisturbed in their puerile touring world of sex, drugs, and rock. Equally, their tour manager has probably grown tired of what he has been listening to, as I attempt with increasing desperation to elicit anything that is remotely funny or insightful from the band. So what, apart from their having the best name in rock, makes the Texan combo worth bothering about? Two things. Their second album, Madonna, is unquestionably one of the year's finest releases, and their live show is an incendiary mix of physical aggression, hard rock power, and psychedelic melody that lies somewhere between Black Flag, Swervedriver, Sonic Youth, and Slipknot. At their inception in Austin, they said their three aims were to make a record, go to Europe, and do drugs with President Clinton. At their current rate of progress, it's perhaps only a matter of weeks before Bill starts demitting the Oval Office in a smoky haze of ganja. "We came from all over the place to Austin," bassist Neil Busch says in what proves to be the first of 12 daftly different versions of the band's origins. "We were fishermen on the islands, and our guitarist's dad was a whaler. We landed on a beach and saw some Texans wearing loincloths and decided that was where we had to go. There was some great music in Austin at the time, a lot of bands, a very diversified scene. It was a very vibrant time for the arts." Their early shows in the States became legendary - often for the wrong reasons. A hysterical report of a show in Columbus, Ohio, in July, 1998, describes "one of the most chaotic evenings of rock anarchy, ridiculousness, and confusion seen in the Short North bar in some time." It was all over two and a half songs into what the gig's promoter described as "the biggest mockery of anti-musicianship I have ever heard", during which guitars flew and feedback howled. The same baffled-seeming man is then quoted as saying: "They seemed like nice boys at first. Actually, they seemed like rich spoiled mama's boys." Most metal/rock acts and their audiences fit neatly into the same cosy demographic, but Trail Of Dead's shows have managed to maintain some genuine artistic anarchy while channelling a real power, too. The band have mixed feelings about being categorised alongside other metallists. "Well, I guess you can't hide your roots," says Busch dryly. "Jason is a huge Iron Maiden fan, I'm really into Judas Priest, and Conrad was into Napalm Death. "It was only about two years ago that we got rid of the spandex pants, cut our hair, and decided to go for an alternative look in the hope that people would listen to us. It must be so transparent!" The band's current European tour was postponed after a mysterious altercation at a gig in San Antonio, but their momentum has been building nevertheless in Britain. They have played at the All Tomorrow's Parties and Reading festivals; recorded a John Peel session, and interrupted their Scottish debut to hang out with their friends, Mogwai, and visit Culzean Castle, where parts of one of the band's favourite films, The Wicker Man, were shot. "All Tomorrow's Parties was definitely a turning point," says guitarist Jason Reese, marginally the most serious of the four. "We got to play with lots of cool bands, and some old men like Wire who used to be important. It was a pleasure to grace their company. "It was a pivotal moment in our long career - word got out that we could play our instruments and write some songs. People realised that we had groove and feeling." It was also around this time that they hooked up with their UK label, Domino. While the label are repeating the success that they have enjoyed with other American bands, notably, Pavement and Sebadoh, Trail Of Dead seem to fit uncomfortably within the Domino roster, which generally features more thoughtful types. Though success at home has been on a more modest level than in Britain, another highpoint of their year to date was an appearance on an American TV show alongside U2 and At The Drive In. "It was like stumbling into another world, full of plastic people," Reese says. "We took what was given to us and enjoyed it, though. At The Drive In seemed more uncomfortable than we did, and Bono imparted some words of wisdom to us. He said: 'Don't give people what they want, give them what you want.' It meant a lot to us." In an attempt to get serious, I try politics - after all, Trail Of Dead did recently make an appearance at a George W Bush rally, albeit in a disruptive capacity. What were they up to and what do they think of the outcome of the election? "We went along to observe," says Jason, "with some banners and some chants. We started shouting 'No more oil for bombs' and 'No more blood for oil' before we were escorted out, and invited round for tea in his mansion. "After the election, I was just embarrassed that people in our country are too stupid to be able to vote for the right person. But that's politics, we can talk about that later." Inevitably, the talk returns to toilet humour, prostitutes, and drugs - the exclusive preserve of well-heeled boys on tour for longer than is good for them. Their music offers hope for a more intelligent brand of hard rock, yet their conversation makes the likes of the Bloodhound Gang sound like politically aware intellectual heavyweights. | |
