Bane event

Hardcore the way we like it

by Chris Kanaracus

Worcester-bred, hardcore act Bane don't play too many local shows these days. But when they do, it's all but guaranteed that the kids will come out in droves. Which doesn't surprise Bane guitarist Aaron Dalbec, and it has nothing to do with his ego. "The scene has always been strong. . . . [Fans] wait around for a show, and when it happens, everyone comes out."

Indeed, with the recent closings of the all-ages Space and the Espresso Bar, much of Worcester's hard music has been left in a tough spot -- namely, no place to play, save for the fledgling series at the Palladium's upstairs room, where Bane headline this Saturday, along with In My Eyes, One King Down, and Hope Conspiracy.

But the dearth of available local dates hasn't hindered Bane's steady march to relative fame, which began in 1995 when Dalbec, then-and-still guitarist for the seminal metal/hardcore band Converge, hooked up with his friend Aaron Bedard and with a couple of now-departed members to record a demo. The group's line-up soon rounded out, with Pete Chilton on bass, Zachary Jordan joining on guitar, and Nick Branigan on drums.

In 1996 and 1997, Bane released two, three-song 7-inches on Dalbec's own Life Records. A third, Holding This Moment (Equal Vision), followed in 1998. And in November, the group released their first full-length album, the ferocious It All Comes Down to This (Equal Vision).

Between recording, Bane have toured as much as possible, landing gigs in Texas, the Midwest, in California; and they've toured Canada. Beyond the emotional and creative outlet performing provides, Dalbec says, it's the fans that make it worthwhile. It's certainly not the money: "After one, five-week stretch, after playing about 30 shows, I came back home with $300 in my pocket."

And, Dalbec is careful to emphasize, the Worcester area still has its share of faithful. "I've been going to shows around here for like, 13 years," he says. "You always have down periods, like we're having now. It'll turn around again."

Several recent events back up Dalbec's theory, most notably the success of last fall's Back to School Jam at the Palladium, which drew a whopping 1200 fans to a bill headlined by Converge. And recent dates at the Palladium's upstairs room, featuring the likes of Saves the Day, Shadows Fall, and the Business, have been successful.

Bane's set on Saturday will likely draw heavily on old favorites like "Both Guns Blazing," from Holding This Moment, but perhaps the more compelling reason to check out the show is the group's new material.

The Bane we hear on It All Comes Down to This are a bit mellower than on previous releases, but the band's urgent, streamlined sound is intact: mosh sections, sing-along choruses and all. But note that word "streamlined." For though born out of a distinctly homebrewed, DIY scene, Bane's overall presentation has few rough edges.

In fact, this is very slick stuff. The disc's top-shelf packaging (designed by Converge vocalist Jacob Bannon) has a militaristic theme. Stirring, sometimes hellish images from the Vietnam War photo set Requiem (Random House) provide stark and appropriate parallels to the album's bitter, wounded, defiant lyrical voice. It's a bit mysterious, though, until Dalbec reveals that all the band members' fathers are Vietnam veterans.

And the music? Dalbec was underwhelmed to hear this, but, save for the classic shouting style Bedard affects on nearly every track, musically, Bane aren't too far off from Metallica circa 1988's And Justice for All. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

It isn't just that the guitar parts are liberally strewn with neo-Eastern melodic flourishes, or that some of the distinctly thrash-metal rhythms are in seeming opposition to established hardcore method. Nor that the last track, the exquisite, mostly acoustic, instrumental "A Bridge Too Far," has, quality notwithstanding, its feet in the sensitive-artist-struggling-to-be-heard side evident in nearly every metal album of the past 20 years.

What makes the comparison a compliment, rather than an indictment, is that much like Hetfield and co. in 1988, Bane are a group with something to say; and overt, if unwitting, influences aside, from that original spark they do not waver. Judging by their track record, you'd be wise to catch them now, before they head out on the road again.

Bane appear on February 5 at the Palladium. For ticket information, call 797-9696.