A pdf version of this article is available for download here.
Discuss The Ghost of Glam Metal Past on the LotFP message board!

What a year for metal. We will surely be treated to variations on this theme in all the year-end lists and retrospectives generated by the metal media in print and html. Up, up, up and away into clear, sunny skies will be the verdict along with the standard caveat that things will only be better and bigger in 2007 due to whichever albums are being released. One aspect of this year's metal extravaganza that will be mentioned in a positive light by more than a handful of journalists is the brash charge of uncompromising metal into the formerly restricted boardrooms of major record companies. It is safe to say that there will not be a single voice raised against major labels returning to take a seat at the metal music shell game, because almost every single heart is fluttering and writers are flattered that metal is finally being recognized by the mainstream as a potential cash cow and will swoon in fright at the mere mention of any unseemly aspects associated with this development. Anyone who dares to raise any concerns about the rapid and unexpected return of "underground" metal to the major labels will be dismissed as a crusty curmudgeon who is only ragging on these bands because they have achieved a level of popularity which does not make them "ours" or "mine" anymore or an obscurantist who wants to retain their "cult" credentials. Old bromides Lamb of God guitarist Mark Morton repeated from the platform provided to him by The Chicago Tribune by noting that "Once you're widely known, you're not the back-pocket band anymore. [Kids] don't get cool points anymore by saying [that they] love Lamb of God because all their friends have heard of it."

In the metal media the move of some metal bands to the majors was an obstacle that was negotiated in a variety of ways-but everyone came to the same conclusion. Decibel's Anthony Bartkewicz seemed to think that something was amiss by insisting that just "like Metallica in '86" the band "Mastodon are our people" and that "they'll practically take the whole metal underground with them." But given that this was the only unambiguous metal band Bartkewicz could come up with in an introduction that pointed to The Melvins, Earth and The Meat Puppets as "iconoclastic and uncommercial" bands who have released material on major labels, it is not surprising that he had nothing substantial to say about what this all means for metal and ended up using it as a clumsy and incomplete hook to ratchet up the stakes and pressure surrounding Blood Mountain, Mastodon's Warner Brothers debut. Revolver's Jon Weiderhorn, the most mainstream of all metal journalists who is up to his elbows in industry matters over at MTV.com, quickly acknowledged and downplayed the entire major label issue by framing Shadows Fall's jump from Century Media to Atlantic as a move to the "big, bad world of the major labels" as if it was a fairytale involving a wolf and three little pigs. In true Terrorizer style, John Mincemoyer got as close as he could to a hot potato by observing that

There is [now] the added pressure stemming from [Mastodon's] paymasters. After all, major labels are about business, which boils down to speculative investments upon future returns. Album sales are referred to as "units," and units sold are measured not in thousands but hundreds of thousands and in some cases, millions. At the end of the day critical acclaim will only go so far. Now it is about the bottom line.

and then promptly threw it down on the ground and vigorously fanned it to make it a cold tuber by dropping the sensitive subject and urging readers to "don't sweat the switch" in big bold letters.

Unrestrained! is "your authority on the metal underground" and was compelled to tackle the major label matter head-on because Mastodon graced the cover of the magazine. But Rob Hughes thought that there was no need to worry since "landmarks like Master of Puppets, Reign in Blood, Spreading the Disease and Domination" were all released on major labels, proving that "artistic compromises and label interference aren't the menaces they're trumped up to be." To Hughes, differences between major and independent labels were the products of overactive imaginations, anyway, since he believes that "the indie/major dichotomy means little now that the entire industry is struggling for survival in this age of digital dispersal of music, piracy on a massive scale and retail outlets struggling to survive." Although it is hard to discern Hughes' intent in erasing the borders between major and independent labels with a few taps on a keyboard because he does not provide any evidence to support his argument, he is absolutely correct-but not due to the boats-caught-in-the-same-storm thesis he sloppily floated. The most prominent independent labels in metal--Century Media, Earache, Metal Blade and Roadrunner--are now for all intents and purposes major labels, because the same set of business mores that guides the actions of an Atlantic or a Warner Brothers are followed by Marco Barbieri, Brian Slagel, and all the other movers and shakers in metal. What is good for business is good for metal, and the bottom-line values of the corporate world are behind the push which has catapulted the current crop of bands into the ranks of the majors.

However, before we turn our attention to the marketplace, let's step back and examine the public narrative that has developed around the bands which have leaped the chasm of commerce and become "major" acts. We are currently living in an age that will in all likelihood produce a "big three" (a "big four" depending on if the gates are raised to allow Killswitch Engage to slip in even though they are on an "independent" label) and the storyline to frame Mastodon as the new Iron Maiden, Shadows Fall as the second coming of Metallica, and Lamb of God as the reincarnation of Pantera to fashion a grouping which encompasses the major bands of metal exists for journalists willing to pick up the ball and run with it. This "big three" in the making already has spawned a "movement," The New Wave of American Heavy Metal, and is a source of pride among "underground" metal writers, so there will be no blemishes pointed out to tarnish this grand moment of acceptance that they helped to bring about and a sparkling, perfect portrait of the underground entering the mainstream unscathed will be created. That these bands are not overnight sensations and earned their success through old fashioned sweat and blood if you do not scratch the surface thickens the plot in a way that makes it almost impenetrable. Mastodon, Lamb of God and Shadows Fall did not appear out of the blue like the legion of what have come to be called "hipster metal" acts, but put in years of hard grunt work out on the road and can tell tales about washing dirty dishes, tending dingy bars and other yarns which indicate that each band has weathered some hard times. Finally, the inevitable pushing and prodding from the major labels to water down their sound and style to expand their audiences is still a few years away, so the statements about not departing from their roots ring true at this point and would make anyone claiming that the major labels are having any affects on these bands appear foolish.

Yet if one takes a long and hard look at Lamb of God's video for the single, "Redneck," the rot that begins to settle into the marrow of a metal band once they sign on the dotted line of a major label contract is exposed along with many other things which strip all the gloss from this triumphal return of metal to the mainstream. The song itself is one of the "more introspective and more personal" tunes that Mark Morton believes "just about anybody will relate to" because of its Pantera/nu metal chants of "This is a motherfuckin' invitation!" and taunts to "Try me!" but the meat of the matter is found in the storyline of the video. The rednecked, meatheaded tough-guy persona in the lyrics, complimented by vocalist Randy Blythe's Anselmo makeover, is muted somewhat by the humor in the clip and was an intentional decision by the band. "There are only so many videos you can make with you standing around a warehouse looking tough," guitarist Mark Morton commented and noted that Lamb of God had "done a couple of those" and decided to inject some levity into their brooding with "a take on the old, classic '80s videos that were kind of spoof-ish." In the video, a father plays a ludicrous rendition of "Mary had a Little Lamb" for his daughter in an audition for her birthday party, but the young girl is not pleased at the prospect, so the mother flips through the Yellow Pages, comes across an ad for Lamb of God and hires the band as entertainment. Lamb of God roll up in a luxurious, state of the art tour bus: drinking beer, smoking weed, ogling the school-girl outfitted women dancing like strippers in the cramped quarters and show some elementary-age kids how to party. Pandemonium erupts as one member puts a cigarette out in a play pool full of kids, another member chases off some kids to steal the candy from a piñata, and the sound guy punches out a clown until things settle down enough for a lip-synched performance of "Redneck" from a quickly thrown up festival-style stage.

All good fun, apparently, but there is more than meets the eye at work. On more than one occasion, Morton mentioned that Lamb of God was tapping into the fun-loving '80s metal spirit with the video and portrayed the clip as having "a little bit of a Twisted Sister vibe to it." Morton is correct in comparing the video to the ones released in the 1980s, but "Redneck" has much more in common with the gluttonous glam metal antics of Mötley Crüe than the rebellious street metal of Twisted Sister. Neither "I Wanna Rock" nor "We're Not Gonna Take It" were videos which showed people how to party. Both were assaults on authority figures bent on humiliating subordinates under their powerful thumbs and turned the tables on militaristic fathers and totalitarian teachers who wanted to rule with an iron fist. Whether it was an overweight metalhead being insulted in front of a high school class or a youngster jamming metal being called "worthless and weak," the humor of the videos was couched in a serious and subversive vision in which the meek inherited the earth by shedding their meekness. In fact, Twisted Sister's seriousness was what allowed them to go overseas to England and benefit from a large following in the epicenter of heavy metal while America turned a blind eye and deaf ear to these metallers in drag:

The reason Twisted Sister cuts it, is there's something about Twisted Sister that is sincere in its insincerity. Yes, sincere in our insincerity. We're not like posers in a posey style of music. We're just a bunch of dressed-up dirtbags. Know what a dirtbag is? Jeans, messed-up hair, two days growth, grease under the fingernails…

Dee Snider also knew the dangerous game he was playing at this point in Sister's career as the "economic stability" supplied by a major label beckoned and the first step which often resulted in bands "writing material or performing in a way maybe where they lose their original fan base" was approaching. After so many years of being on the outside looking in, standing on the cusp of success gave Snider pause, and he was unsure of how it all would end and unsettled by what was coming down the pike:

I often wonder because so much of my writing is based on anger and frustration that if I lose that anger and don't feel frustrated--I mean, a lot of songs were written about record companies refusing to sign us. I just lost a whole fucking subject! But it's still very frustrating, it's still very angry. We haven't made it, we're still getting there, and there's plenty to write about.

Of course, we know how it all panned out. Stay Hungry, an album slicked down by Tom Werman, still contained a lot of the grit and grime of the New York City streets Snider's band arose from and the videos from the album replayed endlessly on MTV made Twisted Sister a household name across America. After this last hungry blast, Twisted Sister lost its direction, succumbing to its comedic image and becoming the "parody" Snider had hoped to avoid by making ludicrous videos for fluffy songs such as "Leader of the Pack" and "Be Chrool To Your Scuel" on the very pop-inflected Come Out and Play; going along with the commercial currents and becoming glam in spirit and sound, despite throwing away their make-up kits, on Love is for Suckers; and showing only faint, feeble glimpses of the early piss and vinegar found on the first three albums.

Even then the contrarian and insurrectionary spark driving Snider still burned and blazed up into a flame when he entered the halls of Congress to make Al Gore and the PMRC look foolish, but that is another story which is well-known and would carry us too far away from the subject at hand. Regardless of what followed, "I Wanna Rock" and "We're Not Going to Take It" were rebellion-charged videos challenging powerful figures, and the children frightened and clown clocked in the birthday-crashing hedonism of "Redneck" have nothing in common with Sister's targets or storylines. But Morton was not wrong when he said that Lamb of God's video was "a take on the old, classic '80s videos," he just would have been a little closer to the truth if he mentioned Mötley Crüe instead of Twisted Sister. "Redneck" is a narrative about how to party-hardy while mocking and intimidating others, and the video for Mötley Crüe's "Girls, Girls, Girls" is cut from the same cloth. The strippers clothed for cable television in "Redneck" form the centerpiece of "Girls, Girls, Girls" and much like Lamb of God showing seven-year-olds how to have a good time, Vince Neil and his bandmates provided some pointers on how to let loose at a strip club. Because, in a little more manly entrance than a posh tour bus, Mötley Crüe ride up on motorcycles, throw down a switchblade on a table, push around a lonely trucker to force him to give up his seat, slap the heads of old men on perverts row for laughs, and turn the strip joint upside down as pandemonium erupts.

The similarities between Lamb of God and Mötley Crüe, however, are much more deep and fundamental than those that appear on a television screen and also encompass the current crop of metal bands making the leap to major labels. Mötley Crüe was also once an independent band who released Too Fast for Love on Leathur Records, their own label, and then signed a contract with a major label. Unlike Snider, Nikki Sixx saw no potential perils associated with moving to a major label, since he knew that his band was "not willing to sacrifice our ideals just to get [the] radio airplay" executives desired. MTV changed the dynamics of what constituted a hit single, so radio no longer loomed as large by the time Mötley Crüe began to move away from leather to lace and towards a less serrated sound. But in the midst of the band becoming the pace setters of mid-80s glam metal, Sixx remained adamant about major contracts not having an effect on his band:

The reaction of the major labels was "yeah, it's real good, but you'll have to change this and that." We decided we were not going to change nothing to fit into somebody else's concept, someone who sits in an office on the 17th floor and has never stood in an audience. We were always honest. Most of L.A. was fad-oriented, but we weren't intimidated, we just made the music we wanted to make: Mötley Metal!

Mötley Crüe also had hard-luck stories about drinking with winos in alleyways and stealing food for Christmas dinner, but once major label money came into the picture, the band not only slaked its legendary appetite for decadence but also began a sonic shift. Sixx became defensive about the band's direction, claiming that Mötley Crüe was "always developing [and] changing" and still managed to get to the heart of the matter, despite his attempt to downplay the road they were traveling down, when he noted that "the money helps it change quicker." The overall major label environment was also intoxicating, and the slights of the past disappeared once the tramps were provided with a place at the table:

It feels good to walk into your record company offices and everybody's opening their doors and smiling and all the secretaries are going, "Hi Nikki, how are you?" all friendly, when it wasn't all that long ago they used to ignore us or run away screaming.

Sixx was in the sitting in the lap of luxury and Mötley Crüe quickly became a Mary Kay monstrosity producing insipid music to fund a reign of hedonism in which "sluts" were passed around like shots of whiskey and became one of the most prominent "metal" bands of the 1980s.

The portrait of metal being about hedonistic excesses remains a strong theme today, and is often trotted out when hailing the "new wave" of metal washing over the mainstream by lazy journalists like The Press Enterprise's Paul Saitowitz:

Metal was never meant to be about rigid practice schedules and conscientious musicians who spend their off time holed up honing their craft. It was supposed to be about decadent characters such as Ozzy Osbourne and Darrell "Dimebag" Abbott who would rather indulge in women and contraband than squander free moments turning their music into work. But metal has become so technical and rooted in odd time signatures and space-influenced guitar riffs that bands have no option other than to approach their music from a workman's perspective.

However, Lamb of God, the band prompting these half-baked ruminations, is wading hip deep in decadence in the "Redneck" video and Mastodon and Shadows Fall are right there keeping pace with them.¹ On its August 2006 cover, Revolver printed "BEER + STRIPPERS = METAL" underneath Shadows Fall's name, and the introduction to Jon Wiederhorn's article about the band's Century Media swansong and the upcoming Atlantic release placed the mathematical equation at front and center:

Aside from the Basketball Hall of Fame, the only other notable attraction in Springfield, Massachusetts, seems to be Mardi Gras, a clean, classy strip club that the members of Shadows Fall often visit after rehearsal. The establishment features hot dancers and cheap pitchers--and just happen to be right downstairs from the band's rehearsal space.

In J. Bennett's July 2006 Decibel article, the Mardi Gras was also used to kick off the introduction, but the "clean, classy strip club" became "the kind of place where someone might slip a roofie into your drink" and the next thing you know "you wake up in a bathtub of ice with a kidney missing" to bolster his seedy and dangerous persona, but the result was the same: strippers and alcohol were employed as props to make Shadows Fall appear rough and risqué. Mastodon have little to do with strippers, since they are more of a high-end consumer of the perks Shadows Fall partakes of only when Dave Grohl shows up with an expensive bottle of Icelandic schnapps to engage in some back-slapping in his studio where the band is recording their Atlantic debut. For example, in the Red Square Bar, a chic and hip Las Vegas bar which provides patrons with Mink coats and hats for tasting drinks in a freezer, Mastodon downed $80 shots of Russian Vodka in 2004 as major labels came a courting and ended up slipping on their own vomit which had frozen on the floor. Ultimately, and after many shrimp cocktails and other wining and dining incentives, Warner Brothers won out because President Tom Whalley jet-setted over to Norway to exert a personal touch while assuring the band that the label would not think of forcing Mastodon to do anything the band did not want to do.

Nikki Sixx would be proud.² The same sense of making it that made him feel wanted has also shaped the "The New Wave of American Heavy Metal" and all three bands under examination here have made declarations of uncompromising intent similar to Motley Crue's bassist. Every time you turn around, you can read the denials of the majors having an effect on Shadows Fall, Lamb of God and Mastodon.

• Brian Fair: We didn't write a safe record. It's such a natural step that we're heading in, and it's going to push our sound into new places that I think our fans are going to be stoked about. We're just trying to write great metal songs and make sure that the five of us are all super stoked on what we're doing--that we're all on the same page. And [Atlantic Records] has given us a lot of freedom to write a good metal record.
• Randy Blythe: Of course, I was hesitant. I come from the old school of punk rock. You don't trust anyone. A jump to Sony is a large leap. So we had to set down strong precedents for them, as in, "You can't tell us how to play, how to mix, who we're gonna record with, what we're gonna write about." And they were like, "No, no. We won't do it." And they haven't.
• Brann Dailor: We would have made Blood Mountain regardless of the label or label switch. We didn't really think about it. We write music label or no label because we like writing music and working together as a band. That's the first and most important thing about Mastodon. The label and all the other aspects are secondary.

If we do not look beyond these statements, it would appear that Fair's glowing take on it all is correct: "To see the success bands like Lamb of God and Mastodon are having putting out incredibly creative and heavy albums on a major without having to compromise in any way was really inspiring. You're like, 'See, it can be done.'"

But the contradictions and contortions which precede a shift in sound are already apparent. Considering that Dailor named The Flaming Lips, Primus and Alice in Chains when asked about "metal" bands that made a successful creative transition to major labels, the importance of Mastodon's opinion can be debated, but the band as a collective entity is a trendsetter and have laid claim to playing passionate heavy metal. In fact, bassist/vocalist Troy Sanders comes across as a militant, vowing that "if our music can take the place of one fuckin' weak heavy metal boy-band's song, then we win," and guitarist Brent Hinds aspires to be part of "the biggest heavy-metal band in the world." Yet Sanders can also declare that there is a need to prove that there is more than "just the heavy metal dimension to us," and the jump from Relapse to Warner Brothers is also a subject giving rise to conflicting stories. Because in one interview Dailor can declare that "We really weren't looking for a new label. Relapse was fine…we didn't need to get off of this label," while Sanders admits, "We had exhausted all avenues and potential, everything that Relapse had to offer" in another.

Lamb of God making a concerted effort to lose their "political" slant since everyone doesn't read newspapers and compose lyrics "just about anybody will relate to" can also be seen as an opening wedge, and Lars Ulrich and James Hetfield made similar statements around the release of the Black Album. Shadows Fall's major label debut is in the future, so there is not as much evidence to assess, but Fair's comments about "push[ing] our sound into new places" and reassuring comments about it being a "natural step" are sending up some red flags among longtime fans--which I do not count myself among. Mastodon, Lamb of God and Shadows Fall are all bands I do not listen to on a regular basis or follow as a fan, and it is time to make some things as clear as crystal before we proceed. I do not enjoy the music these three bands create for a whole host of reasons, but I would not go so far as to claim that they "suck" or dismiss them as not being metal. Lamb of God, Shadows Fall and Mastodon are metal bands that do not strike a chord with me, but there are many people out there who find something to like about them who I would not consider posers or call false metallers, or the bands for that matter. As Sixx and Snider both knew and acknowledged, money changes a lot of things and once a band is pulled into the orbit of the major labels it is incredibly difficult for the stoutest of souls to resist the siren call of making more money by becoming more popular and more commercial--and these three bands are becoming immersed in the industry machine and will be shaped by its stamps and presses.

Snider had a premonition of this fate and was wary of the assembly line he saw opening up before him, but Sixx was too busy reveling in the fame and riches of his newfound prominence to care about such matters and leaped into the major label foundry feet first--discarding whatever caution and integrity he may have possessed without a second thought. And the "New Wave of American Heavy Metal" bands are certainly not cautious about their sudden success and integrity is not a strong suit of the people who are responsible for it. In fact, part of the problem is that many bands great and small, cult and well-known, old and new are operating in the dark when it comes to matters associated with the industry and in some ways it is inevitable. Many musicians, regardless of genre, would not make good businessmen. That is why they are making music in the first place. However, although Lamb of God's Morton can deflect the issue by claiming that "It's not really our job to sell records. That's the label's job," and be telling the truth to a certain extent, the standard bearers of the "New Wave of American Heavy Metal" are not innocent children whose naiveté absolves them from all blame. Blythe knew how things worked back in 2001, insisting that "what we're doing isn't prime time and it doesn't really matter how much money you spend to get us on the cover." Now that his band is "prime time," it is hard to imagine that he and his bandmates are absolutely oblivious to the machinations unfolding around them. Things have reached a point where guitarist Willie Adler's claim of it being "hard to say why we catch on more so than anybody else" does not reflect reality and his portrait of "five regular dudes doing their thing" is no longer the case.

Lamb of God, Mastodon and Shadows Fall have all benefited from a renewed interest in metal from mainstream corporations and owe their current level of popularity to connections more than luck or hard work. When Frank Webb, the music director of Clear Channel-owned WTFX (Louisville), is crowing about how Lamb of God is "decidedly anti-corporate and anti-commercial" and adding songs from the band to the station's playlist--there is something strange afoot. As WTFX's music director, Webb works on a daily basis with record company reps who desperately attempt to increase the number of spins of artists on the label for which they are shilling by hook or crook. And in 2003 Clear Channel tried to extricate itself from this skewed system by taking the preemptive step of requiring each employee to "swear in writing that he or she has not engaged in payola," but emails from Sony BMG obtained by New York Attorney General Elliot Spitzer during his crusade against the practice revealed that Clear Channel was one of the worst offenders and the "oath" was nothing more than window-dressing. The FCC bureaucracy is awash in Clear Channel cash and the company enjoys the direct access to politicians the best money buys, so the corporate behemoth will never be called to account, but, much like the company's claim to be not participating in payola scams, Webb's statement about Sony BMG recording artist Lamb of God being "anti-corporate and anti-commercial" was a fabrication, and the band's mainstream success is unfolding within these customs of corruption.³ Lamb of God's Blythe, however, blithely roams through this landscape benefiting from Clear Channel commercial radio play and claiming that the Sounds of the Underground was founded "for the fans, not some executive's paycheck" and that "corporate politics had no part in the formation of [the] tour" as a Music Choice logo is splashed across the shirt he is wearing in an advertisement for the tour sponsor.

All of this anti-corporate chest-thumping is hollow talk, since the "New Wave of American Heavy Metal" is a phenomenon which emerged from the corporate culture of the modern recording industry. Mastodon, Lamb of God and Shadows Fall all directly benefited from the creation of the new Headbanger's Ball on MTV2 in 2003, as well as Joe Armenia's, MTV's VP of marketing and promotion, belief that Shadows Fall and Lamb of God were "the future of bands in this genre." This endorsement from an executive from Viacom paid incalculable dividends for both bands as they crisscrossed the country on the inaugural MTV2 Headbanger's Ball Tour. Other well-connected industry insiders were also congealing around the bands, and Larry Mazer, a manager with influence who once represented Nelson, Cinderella, and Tangier, took a controlling interest in Lamb of God through his company, Entertainment Services Unlimited. Tim Borror of Face the Music Touring also was in the mix and recognized that MTV2's seal of approval "legitimiz[ed] the credibility" of the bands and rode the "new wave" into the arms of The Agency Group, a powerful conglomerate of concert booking agents who represent over a thousands bands (Foo Fighters, Evanescence, Nickelback, The White Stripes, Whitney Houston, many other marquee names and innumerable small acts).

These are the people pulling the commercial strings behind "The New Wave of American Heavy Metal" and have orchestrated the current renaissance of metal in the mainstream which is corporate at its core. Such a statement is not an exaggeration. It is a fact recognized within the industry, and Elyse Rogers, the Manager of Touring and Finance for The House of Blues chain, is not alone in praising Tim Borror as someone who "knows this [metal] world inside and out" and gushing about how "it has been great to watch him develop this scene over the last several years." Rogers knows exactly what she is talking about and not passing along pandering, hyperbolic hype, because the acts Borror represents at The Agency reads like a who's who of metal bands making noise in the mainstream: Arch Enemy, DragonForce, In Flames, Killswitch Engage, Lacuna Coil, Lamb of God, Opeth, The Sword, and Trivium. Borror, along with Larry Mazer, capped this scene with the creation of The Sounds of the Underground tour, a commercial saturnalia where the bands each insider represented were provided with spots on the bill because the acts could not play consecutive years at Ozzfest and were not "punk" enough for the Vans Warped Tour.⁴ This is an "organic" and "DIY" scene according its organizers, even though Paul Conroy, Ferret label executive/artist manager and Sounds partner, can openly say: "If the right sponsor comes onboard at the corporate level that wants to invest in our tour, we're willing to listen, if it makes sense," while Mazer "dreams" about "Red Bull or one of those energy drinks that are popular among these bands" sticking its name on the title of the tour.

Red Bull did not agree, but SoBe No Fear was eventually willing to pony up some cash to slap its brand name on the back cover ad (designed to resemble the front cover of the magazine) for the Sounds Tour on the August 2006 issue of Revolver and use heavy metal as an advertising tagline for the "super energy supplement." Larry Mazer, not content with managing, staging tours and realizing energy-drink supplement sponsorship dreams, has also made moves to create a label to "develop" the scene by snapping up the old Combat Records trademark when it fell into the public domain in an attempt to cash in on the past that was as contrived as the Sounds of the Underground scene. All the memories, bands and ideas associated with Combat were effaced with one swift flick of the pen as Mazer and Koch Records used the cachet of the label to release the artistic and epileptic metalcore of Horse the Band and the the garden variety core produced by At All Cost because it was a "cool name" and the "kids in our world are going to wear something" with the word combat on it. In Mazer's "world," everything is a "brand" to market for a demographic "lifestyle" created by advertisers more concerned with style than life. Heavy metal of the past or present is no different, and the entire infrastructure large independent metal labels created over the course of the '90s has bought and paid into the vision of men like Mazer and Borror.

If one needs evidence to prove this point, the promotional campaign surrounding Shadow Fall's The War Within makes it more than clear. Billboard reporter Todd Martens knew from "metal insiders" that the album was going to be successful, but Century Media "craved more" and "wanted mass retailers to start taking the label as seriously as they do such hardcore stalwarts as Roadrunner and Victory." To accomplish this goal, Century Media dished out $250,000 in retail spending on The War Within to make sure that Wal-Mart and Target would stock and sell the album. Caroline distribution GM Rick Williams hailed the copies flying off the shelves at big box retailers as a "huge breakthrough" for Century Media, and the label was ecstatic--patting itself on the back for bringing the metal "scene" to such prominence. This was a staggering sum by any metal calculus employed, but it was even more shocking when Marco Barbieri was calling $25,000 for an entire album, not just retail spending, a "major investment" only two years before The War Within was released and that Century Media used the same strategy for Lacuna Coil's Karmacode.⁵ Where did this money come from so suddenly? It is certainly possible that Barbieri was acting like there was no money in metal--a favorite past time of concert promoters, metal executives and "journalists" running interference for labels--but Century Media was doing a brisk business before Shadows Fall became the darling of the label, and some of the money was most likely siphoned off from the efforts of bands that carried the corporation through the lean years of metal.

Of course, this is an absolutely wild and speculative (not absolutely outlandish, though) conclusion which cannot be proven or substantiated because the "world" of metal Borror, Mazer, Barbieri and other movers and shakers in the metal industry inhabit is one where trade secrets are closely guarded. Bands sign contracts prohibiting disparaging remarks about labels and forfeit their freedom of speech, the promotional and journalistic foot soldiers either march in lockstep without looking left or right while others who may feel that something is wrong pass along tidbits in whispered words after promises of silence and the steely resolve at the heart of metal is smothered by an iron curtain controlled by an imaginary army of lawyers and defended by the very real retaliatory powers executives wield. People are afraid to talk openly or push too hard and that is not healthy. In fact, it is downright cancerous in the current climate. Although some will contend that money and success inevitably leads to corruption in any music scene that is animated by an underground or independent ethos, the influx of income and increased commerce does not have to lead to bands watering-down their sound, old and savvy industry hands taking control of the genre once it reaches a wider audience or the transformation of metal into a "brand" to be shaped by the whims of individuals more concerned with selling something than believing in anything.

Money is a thing that can be divided up in discreet amounts and utilized as a resource for diverse ends. At present, as the quarter of a million dollars spent on The War Within campaign and the similar amount spent on Karmacode proves, there is a vast redistribution of wealth occurring within metal that will have serious consequences when the bubble bursts. The collective profits generated by bands across the board and the scene are being funneled upwards to the top of a pyramid--creating a situation where the scheme named after the aforementioned geometric shape will come to its classic crumbling conclusion. Hype will follow after hype and heavy metal will be squeezed for every dollar it is worth until there is a panic and a convulsive tremor runs through the commercial and corporate structure that claims to not be commercial and corporate and there will be no sponsors willing to slap their logo on something to staunch the bleeding and the advertising and retail money being fed into mainstream magazines and big box retailers will disappear with no return as attention shifts away from metal. Some erstwhile metal scene supporters will follow suit and survive to tell warped tales about bands becoming too stagnant or metal becoming glutted and over-saturated as a genre, but many will be crushed under blocks that they may have once carried on their own backs but were never able or allowed to stand upon. Real non-corporate retailers, bands and labels will be increasingly marginalized and shut out of a constricted system which is focused on channeling everything towards what is the most profitable and most popular and this will even have an effect on the most cantankerous of underground purists who think that the industry activities surrounding Shadows Fall, Lamb of God and Mastodon have no impact on them. This is because, in many ways, a golden opportunity to create a sustainable and self-sufficient metal underground is being squandered as a river of metallic money spills out into a mainstream sea to never be seen again.

Anyone with the audacity to sound an alarm will be derided as someone who just wants to keep metal small and narrow so it can be carried around in a back pocket and called "mine." Yet it is entirely possible for metal to become something major enough to make money to provide for a vibrant and verdant underground where bands can make a living or have more resources to devote to music outside of their day jobs without the end goal to have a consumer pick up a CD with $250,000 dollars of spending behind it at Wal-Mart or Target for $9.99 after seeing a video on MTV2. This is a contention for which no evidence can be amassed beyond pointing to bands that have managed to do so, however, because journalists, bands, low-level label functionaries and fans have no idea how much money is circulating through the underground. Heavy metal as a viable and independent genre is now over a quarter of a century old, but we are all still children in some ways--reduced to the status of not knowing how the household finances are made, used and distributed. Maybe it is time for a little maturity. Maybe it is time for people to stop incessantly squabbling over the quality of the meals magically appearing on the table and devote more time to thinking about how the food made its way from the field to fork and if it can be done better or differently for the benefit of all involved. Maybe it is time for labels to be held accountable for how they spend the cash bands earn for them by making their practices more transparent and opening the books to reveal where the money made from the labor of others ultimately goes. Maybe it is time for people to be metal instead of just consuming metal in more ways than one.

Notes

1. Randy Blythe was an alcoholic and is now clean and sober despite the dissolute image of the band in the "Redneck" video.
2. Snider, on the other hand, was straight and narrow when it came to these matters and in his testimony on the floor of the Senate declared that alcohol had little to do with his rebellious streak: "Before I get into that, I would like to tell the committee a little bit about myself. I am 30 years old. I am married. I have a three-year-old son. I was born and raised a Christian, and I still adhere to those principles. Believe it or not, I do not smoke, I do not drink, and I do not do drugs. I do play in and write the songs for a rock 'n' roll band named Twisted Sister that is classified as heavy metal, and I pride myself on writing songs that are consistent with my above-mentioned beliefs."
3. Clear Channel is currently in the process of being bought out by Thomas H. Lee Partners LLC and Bain Capital Partners LLC, so any outstanding investigations and charges will probably disappear once these partners sign on the dotted line and assume ownership.
4. As Illinois Entertainer's Deena Daesin noted: "SOTU was conceived as an alternative to the now long-in-the-tooth lucrative touring juggernaut Ozzfest--where many bands pay-to-play on the second stage. Ozzfest was a creation of Clear Channel's concert division, now spun off as Live Nation, whereas SOTU's national promoter is House Of Blues. But the recent acquisition of HOB by Live Nation makes SOTU a bit less of an alternative." So much for the "DIY" and "organic" alternative to Ozzfest Borror, Mazer and other SOTU organizers made a point of playing up at its inception. The Live Nation, Clear Channel and House of Blues game of corporate Twister also throws up a smokescreen thick enough that a somewhat business-savvy poster at Blabbermouth can state that the "two main reasons to skip Ozzfest are Clear Channel and Sharon Osbourne" in the midst of posts championing SOTU as an alternative and the connections between Ozzfest and SOTU are never mentioned
5. No hard and fast figures exist for Karmacode, but Billboard's Todd Martens reported that "The success has given Century the confidence to roll out a similar plan for next year's Lacuna Coil release, targeting such major booksellers as Borders Books & Music." One can assume that a "similar" amount of retail spending went into this effort.

Sources

Jon Wiederhorn. "Fallout Boys." Revolver August 2006.
J. Bennett. "Majoring in Metal." Decibel July 2006.
Anthony Bartkewicz. "Top of the Slope." Decibel October 2006.
Rob Hughes. "Mastodon: Tracking the Unknown." Unrestrained! 32 2006.
John Mincemoyer. "Mastodon: A Question of Scale." Terrorizer October 2006.
Sylvie Simmons. "Motley Crue's Master Sleaze." Creem January 1985.
Laura Canyon. "Twisted Sister: Local Boys Make Bad." Kerrang! October 6-19, 1983.
Andy Secher. "Motley Crue: Out for Blood." Hit Parader December 1983.
Chris Harris. "Lamb of God Crash Kid's Birthday Bash for 'Redneck' Clip." MTV.com August, 2 2006.
Chris Harris "Dave Grohl's Party Calls Can't Distract Shadows Fall From Recording LP." MTV.com November 15, 2006.
Jon Wiederhorn "Alcoholism, In-Fighting Couldn't Derail Lamb Of God's Top 10 Album." MTV.com September, 6 2006.
Eryc Eyl. "Master of Porpoise: Mastodon's Monstrous Metal is Just Breaking the Surface." Denver Westword December 2, 2004.
Adrian Bromley. "Lamb of God: Preaching the Gospel." Metal Maniacs December 2001.
Bob Gendron. "Metal Magnetism Attracts Fans and Major Labels." Chicago Tribune Sep 3, 2006.
http://www.metallian.com/interviewbarbieri.htm February 13, 2002.
Abby Weingarten. "Lamb of God's Moniker Misleading." Sarasota Herald-Tribune October 6, 2006.
Dave Wedge. "In Like a Lion; This Lamb's Chops are Heavy." The Boston Herald September 27, 2006.
Phil Freeman. "Mutton Busters: Lamb of God is in Good Company on Gigantour." Denver Westword September 14, 2006.
Paul Saitowitz. "Devoted To Their Work: Lamb Of God's Sacrament Follows Personal Paths, and Mixes Punishing Metal With Mainstream Appeal." The Press Enterprise September 8, 2006.
Melissa Ruggieri. "Richmond-based Metal Band Continues to Prove its Mettle." Richmond Times Dispatch September 3, 2006.
Scott Iwasaki. "Lamb of God: High on Reality." Desert Morning News July 21, 2006.
Bram Teitelman. "For Metal's New Breed, Retail Action Spurs Airplay." Billboard November 27, 2004.
Ben Ratliff. "Up From the Underground, With Camaraderie for All." New York Times December 6, 2003.
Ray Waddell. "On The Road: Headbangers Have A Fall Ball." Billboard November 22, 2003.
Todd Martens. "Century Pushes Shadows, and Retails See the Light." Billboard December 4, 2004.
Chris Harris. "Lamb of God Ease up on Bush but Get Deep Musically on Sacrament." April 26, 2006.
Ray Waddell. "Organizers Go Underground for Package Tour." Billboard March 26, 2005.
Ray Waddell. "Sounds of the Underground Builds its Brand Name with Second Tour." Billboard March 11, 2006.
"House Of Blues® Partners with Sounds of the Underground Tour 2005." HOB Press Release April 06, 2005.
John Dunphy. "Sounds of the Underground are on Stage this Weekend." The Suburban June 30, 2005
Brett Sokol. "Bribing DJs Used to be Expensive, But Now Mere Trinkets Will Do the Trick." Miami New Times August 4, 2005.
Chris Baker. "Payola Scandal Again Rocking, Roiling Radio." The Washington Times September 19, 2005.
Mike Kalil. "Payola Rears its Ugly Head Again." Las Vegas Review-Journal December 13, 2005.
Janet Whitman. "Spitzer Fed Up: Says FCC Undermines Music Payola Assault." New York Post April 4, 2006.
Elizabeth White. "Clear Channel Agrees to be Acquired for About $18.7B." Associated Press November 17, 2006.
Deena Daesin. "Sounds of the Underground Tour Review." Illinois Entertainer July 9, 2006.
"Ozzfest 2006: Iron Man Slows, And So Does The Concert Industry." Blabbermouth June 24, 2006.
billboard.com
Christa Titus. "Venerable Metal Label Again Ready for Combat." Billboard.com October 22, 2005.