Of course, such commitment to the live fast, die young rock’n’roll ethos often comes with a price. Bandleader Matt Pike (from cultish stoner doom metal band Sleep) was for a long time known for his boozy hedonism. His riffs weren’t the only thing chugging, if you catch my drift. Earlier this year the band pulled out of the 2012 Mayhem Festival while Matt attended alcohol-related rehabilitation. Pike is now a free and sober man, and from Jeff Matz’ reports, it looks like he’s applying the same arse-kicking style to alcoholic demons as he does to most other things.
“For as long as I’ve known the guy, he’s had a pretty serious drinking problem!” Matz says with a laugh, suggesting the band is in high enough spirits to joke about it now. “Matt is awesome right now, he’s doing better than, really since I’ve met the guy.
“And when I first joined High On Fire [around 2005], I was in the same place, so I understand what he’s going through. It’s something that a lot of people that aren’t in a touring band don’t understand. Your average fan wants to come to a show, have a bunch of drinks and throw down, right? That’s all well and good, and it’s really easy to fall into this thing of getting plastered every night. The bottle of whisky is right there! That’s okay when you’re in your twenties, but it takes its toll on you.”
Now don’t get to thinking that High On Fire, after a decade and seven albums, have softened with age. Evidence in the form of their latest album, De Vermis Mysteriis, suggests otherwise. Would a ‘soft’ band write a concept album where the brother of Jesus Christ dies at birth but is given the power to travel through time and inhabit other people? Doubt it. Sure, that description – think Quantum Leap crossed with Neil Gaiman at his most theologically out there – doesn’t sound too tempting, nor does it do the album justice, but sometimes the best metal bands are the ones that fuse the ludicrous with their brutality. Which is probably why a cartoon like Metalocalypse has proved so popular with metal fans, or why Devin Townsend can get away with writing a space opera about invading alien hordes on the search for the universe’s greatest cup of coffee.
“Matt’s actually been a voice on Metalocalypse, he went and recorded some stuff while we were doing Snakes For The Divine,” Matz says excitedly, on the subject of humour in metal. “I’m not sure which season or episode, but he was the voice of one the henchmen. I mean, that stuff is so well written. If you’re involved in the metal world on any level, there’s so many funny things about that show.
“In fact, we also did a tour with Dethklok, Mastodon and Converge a few years back, it was all animated but with a real band playing backstage. And [Metalocalypse creators] Brendon and Tommy are the most awesome guys.
“We take what we do really seriously, but you’ve got to have a fucking sense of humour about it,” Matz explains. “Matt, he writes the bulk of the words, and he’s always a little bit tongue-in-cheek about his lyrics, we laugh about this shit.”
I offer that William Murderface is one of the most divisive characters on the show, a caricature of each and every brutish bassist that was ever relegated to lower levels of the pecking order, always left out of the songwriting process and turned way down in the sound mix. Of course with Murderface, he’s ostracised because he’s awful to the core, inside and out, but Matz has met and heard enough metal musicians – what may seem like outlandish plot points to ordinary people may be heavily rooted in truth.
“Oh man, I know that Jason Newstead [former Metallica bassist] got a pretty bum steer on most of the albums he did,” Matz offers. “I don’t even think you can hear him on Ride The Lightning or Kill Them All.
“I guess that’s a good thing about being in a three piece band. Even if Matt or someone wanted to do something like turn me down, there’s only three people in the band! If you get rid of one-third of your instruments, it’s going to sound pretty bad,” he continues with a sly chuckle.
With a metal band, you basically have two directional choices on albums – go harder or softer. You might listen to De Vermis Mysteriis and wonder how it could get more punishing, but I thought the same thing with Snakes For The Divine, or even the band’s 2000 debut, The Art Of Self Defense. Somehow they find a way. In fact, it’s a safe bet to think that a clean and sober Matt Pike will try to prove that the fire hasn’t diminished just because the alcohol intake has. No half measures, remember?
BY MITCHELL ALEXANDER
