“The only tricky thing was deciding on the right time,” Matt says on the recording of Bronx IV. “We thought about doing it after the first El Bronx record, but it didn’t seem right. We had a lot of momentum going with El Bronx and we had a lot of songs that we still wanted to write, so we decided to do another El Bronx record rather than do Bronx IV. After those two records we were all super excited to go back again and make that transition to plug in and get loud.”
As most evident on Bronx IV cut Life Less Ordinary – a relatively downtempo number that could have easily worked on Mariachi El Bronx III – there is some overlap between the two acts that is becoming more apparent. “Usually there’s not, but you’re right, there are a couple of tracks on this album that could have gone either way. Life Less Ordinary is definitely one of them, because we tried that song so many ways – heavy, fast – a thousand different fucking ways, but at the end of the day it just sounded better naked. And we said, ‘Well, should this just be an El Bronx song?’ But we kind of liked the vibe it had with the distortion and the delay and the droning, so we decided to put in on the Bronx record.”
Listening to Bronx IV, you gather the sense of an aural evolution into a more spacious brand of punk. “Sonically, I think it sounds fucking amazing to be honest with you. The one mission we had with this record is to simplify the sound a little bit and streamline our songs. There was a time towards Bronx III where we put in different parts just for the sake of putting different parts in,” Matt concedes. “We didn’t want to make that record again, we wanted straightforward songs. We’ve written songs like that before, but never approached a record in that way. Joby [Ford] and Ken [Horne] do a lot of leads on this record and I think it’s amazing, it’s a lead-heavy record. I dig the guitar tones. It sounds raw, it sounds big and it sounds loose.”
Continuing the themes of death and destruction evident on the initial trilogy of Bronx records, Bronx IV exudes an attention-commanding, anthemic cry of catharsis. “It’s based on self-destruction in my head. That’s where it starts. It’s also a matter of knowing how fortunate you are, knowing how lucky you are to be able to do what you love doing. There’s a certain amount of panic with that, trying to make it last and wanting it to never end. I think in that way you’re always looking for those windows to close, you’re always looking for the band to break up, you’re always looking for your life to end. I think that those parallels are something that can’t be ignored. It’s kind of a forced way of thinking for me, my brain is wired to always be protective – trying to keep things going and making things last longer,” he reasons. “I love what I do and I know that I don’t have a backup plan, there’s nothing in my life that gives me the sensation that The Bronx does. I don’t want that to stop. That kind of way of life, that outlook, can lead to some fucking revelations.”
This year marks ten years since the first Bronx record. It’s in this sense that the band are survivors, still going from strength to strength consolidating their loyal fanbase. “Now more than ever, longevity is key. It’s something that I’m very proud of. A lot of people think that at some point you have to turn in the keys and live a regular life. I think that if you keep fighting for what you believe in than there’s no reason you can’t do what you want to do from the day you’re born until the day you die. It’s not easy. I mean, ten years in the band feels like fucking 40 years of anything else, I’m not gonna lie man. We hit it pretty fucking hard for a lot of those ten years – physically, creatively, mentally, spiritually – everything. It’s all-in, one-hundred and fucking sixty percent,” Matt beams. “I live or die by those ten years and I want ten more, god willing.”
BY LACHLAN KANONIUK
