The good, the bad, and the fugly

Rawhead Rex's metal Rebirth

by John O'Neill

Worcester, Massachusetts, magnetic north to, like it or not, Metal. As in Heavy. While the rest of the world turned on the genre around the time Poison's C.C. DeVille melted down, traded in his day-glo ax, and

watched all that fabulous big hair fall out, Worcester has always stayed the course. Look no further than tribute night at the late Cove in the past half-dozen years for proof that this sleepy little mill town goes nuts for loud and hard. And it's paid off for the Worm City, because metal is back, and it's bigger than ever. It may be cloaked by a new and improved name -- Speedcore, deathcore, thrash, grindcore, techno-speed, rapcore, power groove, doom, and, our favorite ruse, hardcore -- but rest assured it's all derivative of good, old-fashioned HEAVY METAL. It's bubbling up from the underground, and we sit at the epicenter of the whole mess. Which makes Rawhead Rex's return all the more timely, as they are one of the few bands who freely admit to being a metal band.

"I've always been proud to be called a metal band -- that's what I grew up listening to," says guitarist Paul Kane. "Rather than this kind of sound or that kind of sound, it's all metal. I'm glad bands like Rob Zombie are getting back into big arenas. I've missed that, cuz [metal shows] were always such an event!"

"I was at a show and a kid asked me what I play, so I told him metal. He asked `what kind' and I just looked at him and said . . . `heavy,'" adds vocalist Eric Jernstrom, as the rest of the band bust a nut laughing. "It's really just about honesty. You have to be honest about the music."

And that brings us back to Rawhead Rex Mach II basics with their newest multimedia disc, Rebirth (Cooked Cranium), which comes complete with music video, interviews, games, a Web page, and, of course, music. Long in the making, Rebirth re-introduces a leaner, roots-metal band who pretend to be nothing more than a bunch of old-school fans doing what they like best. It's raw, bull-shit-free fun. Gone are the seven-minute epics that marked earlier work, the Rexheads (who appear at Lucky Day on Friday) instead turn in three-minute tunes that break new ground while embracing metal clichés and breathing a little life into them. Still tight, loud, and angry, Rawhead Rex nonetheless sound like an entirely different band from the one who released the more doom-laden, and vastly inferior No Stranger To Pain and First Encounter.

The change came in the down-time the band decided to take with the arrival of drummer Chris Gervais, who was signed-up to replace founding member Craig Lindberg. Having essentially decided that the band were spinning its wheels, Lindberg left to strike out on his own. That departure turned out to be the most significant single event in the band's five-year history. "It was like there was an evil cloud over the band, and we all felt something was going to happen," guitarist Tom Nickerson explains. "It was a ballsy move on [Lindberg's] part to leave. But then we found Chris and decided to start over as if we were a knew band. We all started writing."

The time-out allowed the band to develop a more streamlined approach to music, as well as rethink what it was they wanted to represent. As Nickerson says, "We don't want to do this we're-holding-up-the-societal-mirror-so-you-can-see-what-you-look-like thing. I grew up on the Cape. I've never known poverty, I've never been in a bar fight, I'm not really that angry about things!"

"We like being aggressive, but if I wanna write about eating a banana, I'll write it," Jernstrom adds for emphasis. It should be noted that he has also written the genre's first piece on junk mail and telemarketers. ("I don't want what you're selling/And if I did, don't you think I'd call you?") "This whole thing with bands being depressed and alienated, then going home to a nice house. What the fuck is that? A lot of bands choose to jump bandwagons, but that's not honest. We don't have bad lives, we've just been through some bad things."

So the Rex return scaled down, yet bulked up, and they still have an ax to grind. Only now they say it a lot more clearly, in a lot less time, without sounding like a Metallica/White Zombie clone. "When we recorded all the songs and I saw the running time was 27 minutes, I was floored," says Nickerson. "I hadn't realized we were writing such short songs."

"We didn't set up a stopwatch we just decided, `Okay, that's what we wanted to say, let's go to the next song,'" adds Jernstrom. "We're right to the point!"

And the point Rawhead Rex really want to make is that, above all else, they are a modern American, heavy-metal band, take 'em or leave 'em. And in Worcester, you already know what the answer is.

Local Buzz

The longest-held secret in the history of local music, that being the imminent signing of Garrison to a major indie, is finally ready for public knowledge. And so, let it be known that a three-record deal has been officially inked with California-based Revelation Records. And they got pretty much everything they asked for, so let that be a lesson in patience for the rest of us. Congrats to Seven Hill Psychos who blew the doors off the Commercial Street Cafe while members of Korn and Rob Zombie's band looked on. The lads had WAAF's on-air "personalities" frothing at the mouth the following day about how great the band were. (Imagined response: "If Zombie's bass player says they rocked, they must rock! See if they have a CD or something!") Gee whiz, nothing like being late to the party.

Lastly, the Best Music Poll hits the mid-point this week (both the above-mentioned local bands are nominees) and things are shaping up rather nicely. So don't forget to give a hand to the band and vote for all your faves.