The Blood Brothers: The Death Of Hardcore

Posted by Steven Robertshaw on 13-Oct-05 @ 11:54 AM

THE BLOOD BROTHERS helped galvanize Seattle's hardcore scene with their patented shrieking vocals, six-stringed angularity and rhythmic fury. The band's new album finds them moving further away from the pit and the punk-rock rulebook, but if you don't want to come along for the ride, it's okay with them. Really.
Story: Jason Pettigrew


Former Catheters drummer Davey Brozowski recalls a moment a few years ago when his band shared a practice facility with Seattle screamo progenitors the Blood Brothers. "We were goofing off in the space, and as a joke, we were tryin' to figure out Yes' 'Owner Of A Lonely Heart,'" he remembers. "We kept trying, and then, through the wall, we hear them playing it-perfectly!"

For the past seven years, the Blood Brothers-vocalists Johnny Whitney and Jordan Blilie, guitarist Cody Votolato, bassist/synth op Morgan Henderson and drummer Mark Gajadhar-have made great strides in expanding hardcore's rigid parameters. Whipping out a few bars of a piece of '80s prog-pop off the top of their heads ain't nothin', when you consider how they've created albums that make heads swivel and mosh pits bleed while seeping into the consciousness of music fans who like their noise as unhinged as possible-at the ripe ol' median age of 24.

There's a flurry of excitement, musical and otherwise, surrounding the release of the Blood Brothers' fourth album, Crimes. It's the follow-up to their devastating 2003 ArtistDIRECT release, Burn Piano Island, Burn, a punishing collection of tracks produced by Ross Robinson and seemingly held together by centrifugal force alone. Crimes is also the band's first release for V2, the label that stepped in after the collapse of ArtistDIRECT to extricate the band from their contract. And by the time you read this, the Blood Brothers will be wrapping up their U.S. tour with political-punk heroes Against Me!, who'd seem to have as much in common with the Bloods as they do with the Swift Boat Veterans.

"There are bands we really like who don't think of us the way we think of them," reveals Henderson. "It seems like we'll never get a chance to tour with them. I think it's sometimes difficult for us to get some kind of acceptance. I love the idea of challenging people who come to our shows for the ride factor-jumping around, slamming against other people-to not have that opportunity, and have them stand there and listen to a song."

The Bloods' multidirectional tendencies have a lot to do with the amount of growing up they've done both as people and as musicians. They've paid dues: playing to minimal and sometimes unresponsive audiences, recording on threadbare budgets (2002's March On, Electric Children was recorded for around $3,000; in comparison, Burn Piano Island, Burn cost nearly 10 times that amount), and sleeping on floors during their grueling tour schedule. Then, not long after the release of Burn, ArtistDIRECT folded, leaving the band bound to a contract that was so binding, if they'd broken up, the label still would've had the rights to each member's new project. This was more than hardcore: This was real life.
"We toured nine months last year, and I don't think we have any interest in that [level]; nor do we have to," says Blilie. "I can say the same thing about making another record like Burn-it's done. It's part of an evolutionary chain in the lifespan of the band. We're proud of it, and it's time to move on, and do things that reflect what we currently enjoy about music, and draw off of different things to inspire us."

While the Bloods established themselves in America's hardcore scene, their aesthetic take on the genre has always been too far left of center to appeal to hardcore purists; so, naturally, they became the hardcore band it was safe for hipsters and indie-rock nerds to like. (Of course, we're talking about a bunch of guys who'll rock everything from the Beatles to boxed sets from the legendary reggae label Trojan in their tour van.) Even in an era when the mainstream music press has woken up to hardcore, the indie-rock clubhouse still dismisses it as a thugged-out sausage party; and while, sure, a lot of hardcore is like that, a lot of the more interesting stuff is shattering the old stereotype. Exhibits A, B and C: the Blood Brothers' Crimes.

Produced by John Goodmanson (Vaux, Sleater-Kinney, Unwound), Crimes confirms the old adage that a whisper can be just as hair-raising as a scream, even if that sort of concept doesn't seem to fit the Bloods' oeuvre. After all, this is a band whose legend is built around Whitney and Blilie's shrieking tag-team vocals, which are only slightly easier on the ears than a pair of jet-engine turbines. Beyond the new vocal dynamics, Crimes sports everything from deranged rave-ups to gentle respites, sometimes even in the same song. Votolato is viable as a next-gen guitar hero, able to channel the power of angular-rock icon Captain Beefheart ("Celebrator") as well as R.E.M.'s college-rock grandpa Peter Buck. Whitney's use of vintage organs and pianos ("Live At The Apocalypse Cabaret") adds a distinct flavor to the proceedings; drummer Gajadhar's sense of the appropriate is keen; and Blilie seems comfortable taking things down a few notches vocally, while still commanding attention (see the title track). All of these stylistic inversions beg the question: Are the Bloods making hardcore safe for indie rockers, so no one loses their Interpol and Yo La Tengo buttons in the pit?

"We tried to pack as much as we could into each song on Burn as we possibly could," says Blilie. "I think the result was a relentless record, [where] there was no space for you take anything in. It was at this constant level all the time. This time around, we wanted a record with a certain amount of space, so we could return to some basics. Once we made that decision, we wrote the double the number of songs in half the time [it took to write the previous album]."

"We knew we didn't want to write another hardcore record," says Whitney. "In a way, this record reflects what our personal interests are. When Burn was being made, we knew that it would be the first album a lot of people would pay attention to. So instead of going out on a limb then, we just wrote the best Blood Brothers songs we could. When we went in to do Crimes, we felt we were already established as a band, to where we could do things that were true to ourselves musically. And that was all we were thinking. It was never a case of 'I feel weird and old-gosh, I really want more 23-year-olds at our shows!'"

"I've been hearing that some people are saying that this is a 'more adult record,'" says Votolato. "And I'm like, 'What?' I guess it has the capacity to appeal to an older crowd, but there are things on there that are far more brattier and noisier than the last record."

"It's weird," Henderson says. "Why is it that older people aren't supposed to like abrasive, screechy, Blood Brothers music, and young people aren't supposed to like Bach? It's all music; it all carries emotion. It's our ability to listen to music that makes the difference."

"Given our personal tastes, and how we've evolved as a band," Votolato begins, "we've always been concerned with what's next, as opposed to bridging gaps. I think there's enough diversity [on Crimes] that an indie rocker who's scared of the word 'hardcore' can take away the weirder aspects."

Point blank: Is hardcore dead?

"I think that some of the criticisms of hardcore are warranted," opines Blilie. "It's very safe to stay in the hardcore scene. It's self-perpetuating-there's always room for a hardcore band. But it's a different world that can't touch you if you don't want it to."

"I don't listen to hardcore," reveals Whitney. "The last hardcore record I bought was Converge's Jane Doe. I haven't been into hardcore for about four years. When I turn on MTV2 and I see some crappy band, I think [hardcore] is dead. But that's okay: When I'm at shows and I'm talking to the kids, and they say they're getting something substantial out of it, that's fine."

How would the Bloods react if fans approached them on tour saying they didn't like the new music, and the band are no longer relevant to them?

"That's somebody's opinion, and that's totally fine," says Whitney. "I read our message boards, and there have been some people who were upset because we weren't 'kicking enough ass,' or whatever. It's not up to me to shape their thoughts, or write music that will make people happy. That's for a band like Story Of The Year, or someone else that's trying to make a nice product."

You don't need a rock band to tell you that that any kind of change can be a hard thing. With Crimes, the Blood Brothers are expanding on the creative freedom that is the very cornerstone of punk rock: Make your own choices, and don't take shit from anyone about them. Inevitably, some listeners will be so hopelessly confused by the new album's moments of temperance that animated question marks may jump out of their heads. Detractors will piss and moan on message boards-these are the ones who completely missed the irony of the band's sardonic web postings last year, when they jokingly claimed to be playing both Warped Tour and halftime at this year's Super Bowl. Historically, the Blood Brothers have never fit into anyone's predisposed notion of punk. They aren't going to start now, and music collections everywhere will continue to be enriched for it.

"This doesn't mean we'll never make another record that's all aggressive," warns Henderson. He breaks into an imitation of a disgruntled fan. "'Oh, that's it; they've moved on. They're gonna sit down and wear tuxedos at their shows now!'" alt


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