The “reemergence” of underground metal has been hyped in recent years, though ironically, it never went away. The ubiquitous “hipster metal” tag has been used by diehard heavy-music fans fearing the bastardization of their community. After all, who wants to be in the club when everybody is allowed to join?
And if watching swarms of indie rockers intermingle with bikergang types at an Om show wasn’t odd enough, what has really been mind boggling is the amount of visibility bestowed upon many of these traditionally underappreciated artists from the most mainstream of outlets. In 2007, Rolling Stone ranked Sleep/High on Fire axeman Matt Pike as one of their “Top 20 new Guitar Gods” (after John Mayer, of course), and Mastodon’s “Colony of Birchmen” was nominated for a best metal performance Grammy Award. Extreme music publication Decibel Magazine appeared at train station newsstands, offering commuters a good read outside of Vanity Fair. Perhaps this attention is a testament to the work ethics, drive, and talent of these bands, or even better, a sign that American audiences are thirsting for music that feels raw and alive, having grown dissatisfied with hard rock songs that sound as if they were conceived in a boardroom. (I’m looking at you, Nickelback.) Or maybe not. Either way, it’s a damn interesting time to be a metal band.
Enter Oakland’s Saviours, who have unleashed their beast of a second record, Into Abbadon (Kemado), this winter. The tough-as-nails four-piece draws from classic sounds of the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM) Bay Area thrash, doom and punk rock, branding it with their own intense rebellion and hedonism. Their blistering live show is a sweaty mess of long hair, tattoos, and unbridled energy. In essence, Saviours recall a time when metal was genuinely feared.
Saviours are one of the latest greats to emerge out of a local legacy, which includes heavyweights like High on Fire, Neurosis, and Acid King—acts that have prompted curious music fans to wonder if there is an overabundance of heavy metals in the Bay Area waters. Despite the wealth of talent and creativity in their own backyard, Saviours was born out of a general dissatisfaction with modern rock acts. “We were at the point where we had been playing music for a while and were disgusted by the way things were with going with heavy music. So much of it is total dog shit,”says drummer Scott Batiste.
To Batiste and longtime friend, musical collaborator, guitarist, and singer Austin Barber, their mission was clear: Embark on a “vision quest” to create the ultimate heavy band. Barber left town to support another band on tour, compiling lyrics and ideas for Saviours along the way. Back home, Batiste assembled the rest of the band, recruiting bassist Cyrus Cominskey from heavy bluesbased rock band Drunk Horse and guitarists D. Tyler Morris and Mag Delena (Delena left the band in 2006). As soon as Barber returned to Oakland, the band got to work and began to play out almost immediately. “Since then we’ve never really stopped. Things have been pretty good,” says Batiste. The name “Saviours” was determined even before their first practice session. Although Batiste laughs at the suggestion that the name derives from any notion of “saving” heavy music, he counters, “There is an occult edge to it. It involves lots of drugs.”
Saviours released their first EP, Warship (Level Plane) in 2005, following it up with 2006’s Crucifire, which was recorded by the Fucking Champs’ Tim Green. The group’s albums and powerful live presence quickly gained the attention of a slew of record labels. Eventually, they signed with Kemado, in their words, an atypically “pro-band” label, releasing the single “Circle of Servants Bodies” on 2006’s Invaders compilation.
You wouldn’t spend five weeks making a Saviours record; I don’t know what you would do with all that time. Those guys can all play.
A mutual friend brought the four-piece to the attention of producer “Evil” Joe Barresi, sending him samples of their music. Barresi, whose long list of album credits includes names like The Melvins, Queens of the Stone Age, and Tool, was impressed. “I was literally sitting in front of my computer paying some bills and a song came on and I was like, ‘Holy shit—this is awesome!’” says Barresi. Before he committed to the project, he had to see them in action, because as he explains, “A lot of times when you do fast records the band can’t play. They did a show downtown in LA, and I saw them for the first time in this old warehouse and they were playing on a skateboard ramp…I saw them live and it felt like someone hit me in the chest.”
When Barresi later asked for a demo of their new material, only a couple tracks had been completed. Batiste says, “That’s when we cracked down super hard to make sure our new songs kicked ass in that time, because we knew that if they didn’t, he might pass.” The band drove down to Henson Studio [formerly A&M] in Los Angeles, recording in a concrete room just down the hall from where country legend and new friend Dolly Parton was working on songs for her upcoming album. The entire recording session lasted less than two weeks, a time period Barresi deems appropriate for the job. “You wouldn’t spend five weeks making a Saviours record; I don’t know what you would do with all that time. Those guys can all play.”
Saviours have dubbed Barresi “Tone Master” for his production talents and extraordinary ear for sound. Barber elaborates, “We did a little bit of final writing in the studio, but we just let him be fucking tone master. There’s not a lot of guitar overdubs on it. It’s all single guitar tracks and a lead track. We learned so much. He has an endless amount of recording knowledge.”
One unique Saviours aspect, which Barresi considered an “added bonus” in a studio environment, is that drummer Batiste writes the bulk of the band’s music, plugging out riffs on bass guitar, his instrument of choice. “Once I show the riffs to everybody, I start to think, ‘Oh fuck—I’ve got to figure out the drums for this part.’ I think subconsciously I should be limited because I know I shouldn’t write something I can’t play on drums, but I always seem to find myself in that trap.” Although Batiste may suffer from a little residual stress at practice, Barresi says, “It’s great because he knows all the changes. He was really the backbone of it all. The music is so intricate that if he didn’t write that stuff, we might still be tracking drums.”
Listening to Into Abbadon, it is clear that Barresi understands the essence of the group’s sound, crafting an album that captures the primal feeling of the band’s live show, building on the energy of Crucifire and taking it to the next level. Beginning with scorcher “Raging Embers,” Barber’s raspy voice sounds like a battle cry leading the way over soaring riffs through the album’s seven unyielding tracks. “Cavern of Mind,” which best articulates Morris’ piercing guitar leads, is an instant classic. Confident with the end product of their work, Batiste says, “The first record is a document of our beginnings. This time we had more of a vision of where we wanted to go with it. It’s a little more aggressive, more developed.” Barber is equally excited. “Everything is really real on it. It’s all recorded on tape. There’s no fuckin’ ProTools bullshit. Everything is really fuckin’ brutally honest. I don’t think our music has been very well represented on recordings until this new record, and I’m really stoked about it.”
Barresi found the experience rewarding as well. “For me, they just had a sound. These guys reminded me of Kill ‘Em All-era Metallica, where you put on the record and it sounds raw, it sounds live, it has melody, and really great grooves and great riffs. Cyrus is just ridiculous on bass. I couldn’t believe how good he was. And both guitar players are great too.”
Barber, the group’s lyricist, sums up the album’s concept with the words “As Above, So Below,” an occult phrase that scholars used for centuries to explain the workings of the world and connectivity of all spiritual planes. Although inspirational, Barber contends that “It wasn’t a premeditated idea; it just kind of manifested itself. That’s what I’m into. That’s the way I see life. It ends up in everything. Paintings, music, anything I’m doing—all the songs are pretty related to that. They’re all about different stages, or frames of mind of where I am. The songs are super individualized, but they are somewhat cohesive. They can all run together and tell a story.”
This theme, and the aforementioned “Cavern of Mind,” is further explored in the album’s artwork, which depicts an ominous glow emanating from the eye of a pyramid deep in a cavern of skulls illuminating the night sky. The image was designed for the band by the elusive Joe Petagno, who is well known for creating many classic metal album covers including the bulk of Motorhead’s back catalog and the famed “Snaggletooth” logo. Although it had been decades since he last agreed to an album sleeve, he enthusiastically signed on after sampling some of Saviours’ music. Petagno’s work graces both inside and outside of the album, though at first he was approached exclusively for the cover to the vinyl version because, as Barber emphasizes, “That’s how album artwork is meant to be seen, not through some shitty little CD case. It’s not big enough!”
2008 will find Saviours touring throughout the continental US and Europe, spending more time on the road than off. Though some might find such a schedule grueling, Batiste says the band welcomes the journey. “We’re not the band that watches movies in the van and doesn’t pay attention to anything. We listen to music and check it out the whole time.” Barresi echoes this sentiment: “Those guys are dedicated. There wasn’t a whole lot of money to make this record and they drove down here, staying at friends’ houses and sleeping in their van and doing whatever it took to make the record as good as it could be. That’s a real band to me. They don’t just play it; they live it.