Bullets

Bullets

EZO SAID THAN DONE

by Judy Wieder

For most Americans it’s still something of a shock to see the normal traditional Japanese raging away at us with the decidely untraditional sounds of ear-mashing metal. First to head West with the news that there was more than Kabuki music thundering out of the East was Loudness. Currently, two new Japanese metal bands are making a similar point: Vow Wow and now, EZO, four aggressive rockers hailing from Sapporo, the capitol city of Japan’s northern island Hokkaido (an isle once known as E-Z-O).

“Nobody has ever heard a band like ours,” EZO’s lead singer Masaki told us in broken English, seated with his three bandmates in their management’s West Hollywood office. Masaki, Taro (bass), Hiro (drums) and Shoyo (guitar) have watched their own musical interests grow from classical piano to guitar and rock 'n' roll. After high school (four years ago) Masaki was introduced to Shoyo through friends. Hiro and Taro joined them the same year and within two months the band (calling itself Flatbacker at the time) won the grand prize at the prestigious Sapporo Song Contest.

“We were local heroes,” Masaki explains slowly, “but this was not enough. We wanted to be heard also in Tokyo.” Having already built a substantial following in Sapporo, the band turned enterprising and answered the many requests they were getting for recordings of their music by setting up a mail order system. “We made big posters and put them up in the town,” Taro remembers, “to tell everyone where to send for our music.”

Although they quickly set up a thriving cassette business, EZO still had their hearts set on Tokyo. Fortunately, a musical competition for Hokkaido residents offered winners the promise of participating in the national finals in Tokyo. Practicing with unparalleled determination, EZO garnered the top regional prize in Hokkaido and headed for Tokyo.

“We were very right to go there,” bassist Taro continues. We met in Tokyo an A&R man from Victor Records. He saw us play and was impressed.”

Victor Records signed EZO to an EP deal and the young band found itself in the studio recording their first record, Senso (“War”). In 1985 the raw and gritty sounding miniLP caused a major stir in the East. The record led to considerable live performance opportunities and EZO took advantage of them all.

“But also we wanted to make more records,” Masaki insists. “We had more songs from playing so much, so we wanted to record them as well. Also, we had started another dream...”

Yes, America was on EZO’s minds now. While on a visit to New York (“This is place I love!”—Masaki), EZO met Kiss and Gene Simmons. They were looking for a producer for their new record and Simmons was more than interested:

“I wanted to work with them after hearing just one riff,” Simmons confided. “I thought, anybody that can come up with a classic riff like that is damn good! They had powerful. They had mysterious. They had fast. They are as good or better than most musicians I have worked with.” Gene, joined by producer Val Garay (“Bette Davis Eyes”) prepared EZO’s first American-made album. It wasn’t an easy job.

Masaki: “Yes, the problem was English... or I should say my problem was English! Everything had to be said so that it could be understood in America. I had to take long hours preparing for every song. We had to write in English for the first time. We had never recorded in English.”

According to Simmons, every phrase was dissected and questioned for its meaning and purpose. Gene also worked unceasingly on Masaki’s voice, pushing it to reach new, raw heights. “He is a very special singer, one of the best!” Simmons concludes.

Asked if EZO experienced any emotional objections from their Japanese fans when they moved on to English and America (Loudness was literally attacked by old fans when they went West), Masaki laughs: “Well, Loudness, to be truthful, was much bigger in Japan than we are. Yes, there was a big fuss when they started to sing in English and to court American audiences. For us it is not the same. We have fans in Japan, yes, but now we have more fans elsewhere. We are very happy to be in America. There are so many bands in the world. To become one that is heard by so many people—this, to us, is the big dream. We are very determined to bring our music all the way out, from Sapporo to. . .everywhere.”

HOT RODS

by Sydelle Schofield

“We don’t want to stand there and pose. You can do that in front of your mirror at home,” growls Rods bassist Craig Gruber. Their latest album, Heavier Than Thou, is a return to the thunderous grooves and rhythms of classic rock ’n’ roll. It also marks a reunion of sorts: a conglomeration of heavy metal’s unsung heroes with pasts to be proud of.

The Rods began to take root in the form of Elf, a late 1960’s band which featured Ronnie James Dio who, at the time, played bass. He and his cousin, guitarist David “Rock” Feinstein, recruited an 18-year-old bass player, Craig Gruber, from a bar band, to allow Dio to move up front. According to Gruber, one thing led to another and so on. ‘‘Blackmore’s Rainbow was formed when Elf was opening for Deep Purple. Ritchie wasn’t too pleased with the material that Purple was coming up with at the time. So he decided to do a solo album which turned out to become Rainbow. He just discarded the rest of his band (Deep Purple) and picked us guys up.”

But for Gruber and Feinstein, the Rainbow dissipated. Gruber went on to do a short stint with Black Sabbath, and Feinstein took a short sabbatical from rock ’n’ roll.

Enter drummer and producer Carl Canedy to reunite Gruber and Feinstein, thus molding the Rods. At the time, heavy metal was floundering somewhere in disco’s shadow, ready to start a major upheaval. “From 1975-1979, heavy metal was starting to come into it’s own,” says Gruber. “That’s when the disco thing was in. I think people were bored and they were rebelling against that. But right along in that time period, the new wave of British heavy metal started. Iron Maiden had just come out and Judas Priest resurged into its own,” says Gruber. Sabbath picked up. The kids needed something else. Let’s face it, a 15-year-old is not going to groove on down to the disco for excitement.”

Gruber still associates with his musical past, but does not dwell on it today. “At the point that I was in Rainbow and Black Sabbath, we were covering ground lyrically and melodically. It’s dated material now, as far as I’m concerned. We were some of the first bands to do that medieva^pproach. I’m not into the darker side of rock, lyrically. Ronnie James Dio, Black Sabbath and Deep Purple wrote the book on that stuff.”

The Rods were just about to get it together when Gary Moore swooped down and whisked away Gruber, who was replaced by Gary Bordonaro. What followed were sporadic bursts of vinyl that uttered speed and power topped with more speed and power.

The dawning of a new era in the Rods’ history began in 1986. It was the era of experimentation. They hooked up with Rick Caudle—a keyboardist and vocalist discovered on “Star Search”—to record Hollywood, which was described as a “group solo project.”

Caudle dropped out of sight, and Bordonaro dismissed himself, leaving Feinstein and Canedy to woo back Gruber, who had already left Gary Moore. The trio turned to Shmoulik Avigal, a native of Holland, to handle the vocals. The band was determined to emphasize vocals and diction to enhance their fresh material.

The result is Heavier Than Thou, produced by Carl Canedy. It begins with a commanding orchestrated instrumental which brings to mind heroic technicolor battles staged in 1960s movie epics. It sets a definite mood that pervades throughout the album. And again, it is an experiment for the band. “We were originally talking about something different. We refined our direction, but our essence is still there. For us, crossing over to that new direction is a success. I hope we haven’t lost any fans by doing that.

“You take a chance, though, and hopefully it will work out for everyone.”

BUTCHER WITH AN AXE

by Robyn Usa Burn

OK. Let’s start from the beginning. His name is Jon Butcher. He started playing guitar a few years after he got out of diapers. The years that followed saw Jon as a hot, young guitarist on the rise, dreaming of one day becoming a musician with integrity. Playing the local Beantown scene as the Jon Butcher Axis, Butcher was spotted by Peter Wolf of the J. Geils Band. Wolf liked what he saw and asked Butcher if he would open a few dates in Europe. Those dates turned into the opening slot for J. Geils’s Freeze Frame tour of the states.

So here we have a predominantly unheard of bar band, touring the country without a record contract and being given the friendly advise to “hit ’em low, hit ’em hard and hit ’em fast,” by Wolf. No sweat. Butcher came off the tour with a deal from Polygram and experience under his belt.

The self-titled debut album which contains “Life Takes A Life” and the second album, Stare At The Sun, raised some eyebrows but not a lot of revenue. Butcher was thrown into more arenas with the likes of Def Leppard, Scorpions an0 Rush and became disenchanted with the label and their lack of focus.

“If you consider the business of making records from the artist’s standpoint, it’s not instantaneous combustion—or at least not very often. It’s a case of the artist growing into himself like you would with anything. It’s not easy to understand War And Peace the first time out. It’s not that different in music. For me, it’s been the same growing pains anyone goes through when they’re trying to commit a style or bring out their true personality in the form of plastic and trying to get it all in the groove.”

Butcher left Polygram and found salvation at Capitol, where his first release for the company, Along The Axis, earned him a Grammy nomination. Before releasing his fourth and most recent album, Wishes, the band changed the name and dropped “Axis” because people were begining to call Jon “Mr. Axis.”

With Wishes, Butcher tackles some topical issues, but then life was always a part of his albums, even if it’s his own life.

“This has been a real difficult year for me emotionally. I wrote the song ‘Goodbye Saving Grace’ about a relationship that ended—and I can’t tell you how many people have told me they’re going through the same thing. People need to feel as if you’ve lived these things too. The song wrote itself in about 20 minutes and was more or less my exorcising demons. I had to get it out of me. I would hate to think that anytime I want to get something close to a hit I have to go through emotional hell, though,” he says.

A song that stands out for Butcher on the album is “Holy War,” a track so timely you’d think Butcher had the inside scoop about the PTL controversy long before it happened.

“We did ‘Holy War’ because it’s something that’s stuck in my craw. Something about profiteering on the fears and weaknesses of people makes me sick. Who knew when I was writing that song that this whole Pearlygate would come to pass? I’m really happy to see those guys on somewhat of a slow roast.

“If I would say, ‘Listen, I got a great idea. I’m going to get on TV and I’m going to ask people for money and I’m going to appeal to the lowest common denominator of fear and humility. They’re going to send me millions of dollars; what do you think?’ Somebody would tell me I’m as soft as a grape,” Butcher says.

After five years as a band, with four albums to show for his troubles and just scraping the surface of notoriety, Butcher is content with the way his career has gone. Even if it means it takes several albums to establish a core following that stays with him forever, so be it.

“I guarantee if success had happened for me right out of the box we wouldn’t be doing this interview. I’d probably be in some mental ward, because there’s a certain amount of maturity that can only come in a gradual learning process. I just wasn’t nearly mature enough emotionally to sustain that type of thing and keep it going. I think that, for better or worse, the slow and steady build was the best for me. Looking back, I can see I’ve gotten my act together.”

DC3, THE FOUR OF ’EM

by Chuck Eddy

According to Dez Cadena, who sings and plays guitar and writes most of the songs for DC3, Blue Cheer’s Outside-Inside was better than Vincebus Eruptum, Deep Purple’s Fireball was better than Machine Head, Uriah Heep’s Demons And Wizards was better than Look At Yourself, Hawkwind’s Hall Of The Mountain Grill was better than Doremi Fasol Latido, and the Pink Fairies’ What A Bunch Of Sweeties was better than Kings Of Oblivion. He says the recent comeback albums by both Mountain and Blue Cheer were “not very good,” the Hawklords’ only album seemed like “just another Hawkwind album,” and the last good ZZ Top album was Deguello. I’m partial to Purp’s Machine Head myself, and I think ZZ s El Loco and Eliminator were OK, but otherwise I agree with Dez all down the line. This man is a true hard rock fan, and he knows his stuff.

“The music we play is a lot like music we listened to when we were kids,” Dez says of DC3, who used to be a trio and are now a quartet—but are still called DC3, because there’s no such thing as a DC4 airplane. That’s what original DC3 drummer Kurt Markham always used to say DC3 sounded like, and they still do. “People will come up to us after shows and tell us, ‘You guys are doin’ some kind of trip that my older brother used to listen to,’ or we’ll get some 38-year-old codger who comes to clubs to listen to who’s ever there, and he’ll tell us he’s got tears in his eyes ’cuz we played Theme From An Imaginary Western.’ ” DC3 covers that particular Mountain number, Dez says, “because that’s one of the songs that always used to give me goose pimples when I’d hear it, and who knows why a song hits you that way?” The band I covers Purp and Hawkwind, too. Not to mention B.B. King and John Lee Hooker and Clarence Carter—unlike most rockers nowadays, these cats ain’t afraid to let their blues show.

“We didn’t just sit down one day and say, ‘Let’s do this kind of music,’ ” DC3 keyboardtwiddler Paul Roessler claims. “There’s all kinds of influences in there.” Paul (in his mid-20s, like all his mates, but with a weirder haircut) took piano lessons as a tyke, and eventually he went straight from classical into punk. Dez’s dad used to produce bebop and free-jazz sessions, and while growing up, the vocalist was exposed to the Beatles and Hendrix and Beethoven and liked all of ’em. DC3 rhythm section Louie Dufau (skins) and Ceasar Viscarra (bass) were once part of the Stains, a hardcore group that beefed up the essentials with Motorhead-style leads ’n’ licks, stretching two-point-fiveminute tunes to over ten live, and thus earning acclaim as progenitors of speedmetal. Roessler (ex-45 Grave) and Cadena (ex-Black Flag and Redd Kross) learned the trade in metallic punk crews, too, but Paul says DC3 is different: “Punk has an oompah beat, but we have a gallop, rushing forward like a big wave you can surf on.” Not being from California, I never thought of it that way, but it makes sense.

DC3 have a new album called You’re Only As Blind As Your Mind Can Be (on SST), and though parts of it take tentative steps toward introspective Dixie-hippie mud-festival roots (i.e., Allmans), most of it retains the sludge-swoosh approach of their two previous LPs, and I dig it. The bandmembers all agree that this is their best record, since it’s got sharper sound and more variety. “And it hangs together better, because it’s got more of a theme,” Dez tells me. “I write about real personal things, and this is a love album. There’s lots of love albums, and I’d compare ours to (Derek and the Dominos') Layla” Sure enough, there’s lots of loneliness here; song titles like “Lost Someone,” “Party For One,” “I Ain’t Got You,” “Talkin’ To A Mirror." A concept album, if you will, and Dez says the lyrics are based on a real-life incident, but he wouldn’t give me any details, which is OK because they’re none of my business anyway.

In their shows, DC3’s songs become improvisatory jams, and Dez takes lots of hot solos. Unfortunately, they play way too often in front of collegeradio dinks who wouldn’t know good rock ’n’ roll if it flunked them in Business Administration. But on the few occasions when metal fans and the group have crossed paths (like when DC3 opened for a shag-topped cover-band at a Lawndale, CA, house party), the headbangers have found reason to bang their heads. “We don’t wanna just do this bar scene, but then again I really do like the kids who come to see us,” Dez concludes. "I’m not unlike any other kid, and if we ever catch anybody’s ear, I hope we can do some damage.” My kinda attitude, for sure.

TNT: RETURN OF THE GOOD KNIGHTS

by Sydelle Schofield

Tell No Tales is the freshest slab of vinyl from TNT in three years, a follow up to Knights Of The New Thunder. The title is a tad hypocritical though, for each song is a tale, a minisaga of some obscure incident cryptically set to melody. And the story of TNT is a tale in itself.

“I picked Tony up in a supermarket out on Long Island,” goofs guitarist Ronni LeTekro, explaining how lead vocalist Tony Harnell is the only American component in this Norwegian heavy metal band—which also includes bassist Morty Black and drummer Diesal Dahl. “Yeah,” picks up the blond, brown eyed singer, “I was lurking in the pantyhose section!”

Don’t believe it for a minute. The truth is that a tape of Tony’s made its wayward trek across the Atlantic Ocean to the land of annual whale killer festivals through the hands of a Long Island-based manager. TNT was set to explode.

In 1984, Polygram signed the band and they immediately released Knights Of The New Thunder, which gave them a thin strata of American attention. As time passed, they were ready to record again, and within those three years, TNT has expanded their approaches, shelving conformist discipline and embarking upon the project with a creative and more mature attitude. One thing they are proud of developing is their songwriting. "Since I was writing lyrics, I felt that I can’t write about something I don’t feel or can’t relate to,” explains Tony. “In other words, I can’t sit down and write a song about traveling through space and meeting Darth Vader and how heavy it was.”

“Don’t limit yourself!” Ronni mockingly interjects.

“We’re writing about a lot of different things now,” Tony continues. “But whatever that thing is, I’ve got to be able to be real about it and communicate it to the audience.”

“And I’m just picking out the words and giving them to Tony. Like for instance,” he pauses to scrutinize the back of a Coke can in search for a beautiful word, “Chipmunk. There, can you do anything with that?”

Well, maybe not, unless you’re playing guitar for Captain Kangaroo. And that would cause for some serious identity problems. The great thing about this whole album is that the record company let us be who we are,” gushes Tony. “They haven’t forced us to be anything we’re not.”

Their freedom is evident on Tell No Tales. The first single is “10,000 Lovers In One,” an uptempo, catchy song complete with abundant harmonies. The disc also contains a moment of sheer hysteria in the form of an instrumental composed by LeTekro called "Sapphire.” “Sapphire” is Ronni’s answer to Van Halen’s “Eruption,” notes Harnell.

With all these bands profusely breeding, it’s getting increasingly difficult to be innovative. TNT’s answer to redundancy: change. “We enjoy changing all the time. We have a fresh approach and I think people are going to pick up on it. I like variety and I figure everyone else does. The great thing about a band who constantly changes is they never get bored with their old material.”

Concludes Ronni: “We might not sound anything like the Tell No Tales album on the next one. We change. We want to keep that special feeling.”