Primordial interview pt 2: "We cannot do a Wednesday show to 50 people anymore"

According to Primordial's website, their last headlining UK club show was four years ago, at the Underworld in Camden, London. The last time I saw them was two years before that, at London's Elektrowertz (also known as the Slimelight for the club that is regularly on there). It's not a great venue at which to see bands - it's small, the sound is usually poor, it gets excessively sweaty - and though Primordial did their best, recalling that night made it easy to understand why Primordial hadn't prioritised headlining clubs in the UK.

"It really depends on what you’ve been offered. I mean, four or five years ago, I don’t really think there was a climate to do maybe a week or something in the UK.  I mean, the last time we played four or five, maybe six dates was with Rotting Christ in 2003, and a lot of those days were, to be honest, quite pointless. Like 23 people in Cardiff. It's just that now, at the age that we are, the responsibilities that we have, that kind of thing – not that we're ancient or anything, but we just can't do that any more. We cannot do a Wednesday show to 50 people any more, it just doesn't work like that in our lives. And we also can't do a Friday or Saturday show to 100 people. It's just... We're not Marduk or Vader or Rotting Christ, it just doesn't work likes that. It has to be, more or less, this way. I mean, it's nothing particular, it's just all those tours that we've done... you know, unless they go to Paris, it's very seldom that they'll go to London, you know? It's really not very much to do with us."

Any band only has so many days in the year, and it makes most sense to go where you're most wanted and appreciated. There's an argument that says that until 'To the Nameless Dead' had done its work, Primordial didn't have much of a profile in the UK - and the work it did do to raise their profile generally meant they had better opportunities open to them than UK club shows. Plus there is nothing like absence to make the heart grow fonder. And of course, the older you get as a band, the more you have to pick carefully.

"This is true, but also the fact that we aren't a professional band, that we don't make our living from Primordial. Maybe if we were twenty-two or twenty-three we could have thrown our hats in the ring and gone, 'Right, let's take everything that we're offered. Let's tour for three months...' and this that and the other. But that's just not the way life has worked out."

Being in the business of being a metal band while not having it be a professional gig requires you to have a lot of discipline in your life as a whole.

"There's no pension plan in heavy metal," says Nemtheanga with a chuckle. "I mean, it's different for me as I don't have [pauses] kids or family or, you know, some of the bills to pay that some of the other guys do. Mortgages and this kind of thing. And also Ireland is a very expensive country to live in. You know, it's not like the money we have goes as far as it might do for Vader or Behemoth in Poland. It's not like in Scandinavia where you can apply for grants from the state or anything. The balancing act (is) between picking the things that you're able to do, that financially make sense, and of course, in the current economic climate in Ireland, if you have a job you really have to hold onto it, which means that maybe some of the leeway you might have been allowed with your job four or five years ago, as regards to like unpaid leave, just doesn't really exist any more. So it's just a balancing act, like anything else. We do enough - maybe we don't do as much as we'd like, but we do enough to be able to, you know, make it sort of sort of tick over."

Given the life opportunity, one wonders if Primordial would do a lot more shows. Some bands aren't into playing live- some professional musicians (Kate Bush is an example) find that fitting live work around commitments to family life makes their prospect completely unpalatable. How much of Nemtheanga's life would he be happy to spend on the road if there were no commitments to consider?

"Most of it, probably. [laughs] It suits me, it's what I like. I don't really like being in the studio, it bores me. People in a heavy metal or rock band complaining[emphasis] about being on the road? I mean that's... You know, you don't realise what sort of opportunity you've been given to see the world. Well, maybe the toilets of the world but you're still seeing the world. I would do way more if I was able. It just doesn't necessarily work out like that, you know? Like I said, we do enough that there's things to do, but you know, trying to get away for more than fourteen to twenty days at any one time... That said, you know, if you were, I don't know, the Vaders or Rotting Christs of this world, doing a hundred days, ninety day tours in a hundred days and stuff, I don't know whether that would suck the joy out of it. But if that's you're living that's also your living. The other thing I just thought: if we were a professional band then we would have to, probably, make an album every 18 months at least. That might[emphasis] impinge on the creativity of the music. You know, if we had[emphasis] to do it.

Not being tied to the constant album cycle seems an advantage for Primordial. Their records sound like they take time to bring together, to mature in their creators minds. Things might get horribly watered down were they hooked up like cows for milking. If you're managing to make consistently great records at a rate of about one every three years, probably it's desirable that you not be forced to make them on someone else's tighter schedule.

"Yeah, I mean it's not impossible. The only thing is that don't forget that, you know, when you pick up the new Primordial album and you compare it to the new Satyricon album you have to make [pauses, wry chuckle] a judgement there that here is a band who are professional musicians: that's what they do, make music. It's what they can do for the whole week, whereas we might rehearse, I don't know, once every six weeks sometimes. [interviewer exclaims 'Wow'] Yeah, sometimes not for two or three months if there's nothing to do. When you're having to juggle all the other things in your life with[emphasis] trying to be creative as well, it's very difficult to find that... that equilibrium, that balance, you know? So I think that's probably something that most people don't appreciate but, you know, that's life. What can you do? You just get on with it."

As apologetic as Nemtheanga is, some of us would say that he's seeing it the wrong way around. Having music not be a job, an obligation, is arguably a virtue. Not having the time to play the life out of your ideas may keep the spark that spawned them present. When all was said and done, the best albums of 2010 were not made by professionals but by amateurs. But more on that another time.

[Part 3 will be completed asap - not promising is better than breaking a promise]

Primordial recently announced their first UK club shows in 3 years, one in Manchester on the 4th of May and one in London the following night. If tickets for either haven't sold out by the time you read this, you are strongly urged to secure your place. It will be incredible: you won't believe a mere band of men with instruments and vocal chords can transform the world around you into such an intense arena of sensory experience. Be there.

Apologies, plus Primordial transcript available

Woke late, spent too much time watching Vietnam documentaries and reading 100 Bullets yesterday night and, still half-asleep, killed my alarm when it tried to wake me up at 0600 today, so next Primordial episode will have to wait for this evening at least. However, the accompanying transcript to part 1 has just been published on http://thesejustnotes.blogspot.co.uk/ if you're interested in such things. Primordial interview pt 2: "We cannot do a Wednesday show to 50 people anymore" will be available Saturday afternoon at the latest.

Primordial interview pt 1: You took the words right out of my mouth... it must have been when you were using a smoke machine

If you've never heard Primordial - or having heard them, haven't taken to them - you should buy their latest record, find seventy minutes of time free from distraction, and immerse yourself in it. Even if the masterful 'To the Nameless Dead' failed to stir you, make 'Redemption at the Puritan's Hand' Primordial's final chance to impress. It is incredible. Not because it is hard to believe that Primordial can make a stunning record - 'Nameless' and 'A Journey's End' (originally released via Misanthropy records in the late '90s) are both brilliant: the records in-between were fine pieces of work too - and not even because 'Nameless' itself marked such a peak in their career. No, 'Redemption' is literally incredible because one would not expect even a band of Primordial's caliber to be able to move out from under the shadow of a 'Black Album'-type release without either trying to mimic it and ending up with a pale imitation (think Amon Amarth's follow up of 'With Oden on Our Side' with 'Twilight of the Thunder God') or mistepping in their attempt to offer something distinctive - a 'Load', if you like. Honestly, I don't want to spoil it, so that's all we'll say about 'Redemption'. For now.

Last summer, 'Redemption' was just out and Primordial were playing the UK's Bloodstock festival. There was an almost tangible air of anticipation as their set approached. Between its surpassing quality, Metal Blade's impressive push, a good dose of luck and a fair helping of hard graft and decisive planning - Primordial do not make a living from their art and vocalist A.A Nemtheanga aside, all members fit Primordial around commitments to both day jobs and families - 'Nameless' had set Primordial on a seemingly inexorable march to major recognition. They were about to reap the rewards on the final day of the UK's finest outdoor metal festival when something rather frustrating happened. Here are my scribbled notes from the day.

12:58 Primordial begin

13:04 first song over, 'As Rome Burns' now.

1313 Rome over, bit of a pause... Alan's voice has gone completely - he can scream, i can talk says drummer.

1346 Watching another band now: crowd sang 'Empire Falls' and 'Coffin Ships' as best they could after an instrumental number.

Discovering later on Sunday from their PR rep that Nemtheanga's voice had returned a mere 40 minutes after the band finished their set, the first obvious question is: what happened?

"Well, what it seems to have been is something called temporary vocal chord paralysis," says Nemtheanga. It seems to have been an allergic reaction to a certain chemical in the smoke machine. I do remember being on the stage at the time, singing fine, and I remember thinking to myself: fucking hell, I’ve never experienced smoke that intense on the stage – literally, you couldn’t even see the crowd at some stages. And I remember taking a big, well [slight chuckle], breath of it basically and from one line to the next my voice just completely disappeared. What can you do? I guess I’ve done 400-and-something gigs and that’s the first time it’s ever happened. Sod’s law that it had to happen at that particular moment. But, you know, what can you do? You just have to take it on the chin and go: OK, well... [trails off, his last words echoing disappointment] You know?"

Nemtheanga is clearly very self-conscious about the whole ordeal. It really hurts him that he couldn't give a great performance for the full length of the band's set. Yet as disappointing as it was for those eager to see Primordial on the day, the unfortunate incident actually made for something of a special gig: it will be remembered fondly rather than bitterly in the future by those who were present in the crowd, if not for those on the stage. Shout-singing yourself hoarse trying to make up for the absence of Nemtheanga, you realise how tricky it is to hit his vocal cues without having a guide with great pipes and a microphone. It would be a frustrating experience were it not for the fact that so many around you are doing the same disservice to their vocal chords for the same reasons. Ultimately it was uplifting: however much we all realised that our efforts were inadequate to the purpose of making the gig work, it was awesome to realise that neither we the crowd nor Primordial the band were willing to just walk away without giving it a go. It was a unique experience which will hopefully remain so.

"It was very cool," says Nemtheanga of our efforts. "It was quite, I suppose, quite touching or moving or something, to hear everyone singing, to realise that that was the level of people’s support or the popularity of the band or [he trails off with a noise like a shrug – like he feels to go on would be superfluous speculation]. You know, that obviously the lyrics or the message in the band means that much to people that they know all the words. And yeah, I mean it was, it was… it will be remembered. I’m sure that it will be remembered. Not for reasons I would want it to be. Ummm, I mean, it never crossed my mind that we should stop or stop playing or anything. To be honest, what we should have done is let our drummer sing, cause he can sing really well. But at the time you don’t think of these things. But I mean what can you do? You just have to take it on the chin and go, alright, this is sods law and if you play X amount of gigs I suppose eventually you’re going to play one where your voice gives in, you know?"

As you can see from the notes above, drummer Simon Ó Laoghaire did say he could sing and Alan could scream. Maybe that was just too difficult to rig up at the time?

"No it wasn’t too difficult. I couldn’t actually make a single noise. I couldn’t even whisper. I couldn’t do anything, at all. He can actually sing really well. He sings Irish Caoineadh songs and he’s a very good singer. So if we’d thought of it or there was a headset he probably could have sang, actually."

[Part 2 will be completed tomorrow morning]

Primordial recently announced their first UK club shows in 3 years, one in Manchester on the 4th of May and one in London the following night. If tickets for either haven't sold out by the time you read this, you are strongly urged to secure your place. It will be incredible: you won't believe a mere band of men with instruments and vocal chords can transform the world around you into such an intense arena of sensory experience. Be there.

Follow A System

That's what I have decided to do with this blog. I am beginning right now. Here's how it works. I get up to 40 minutes each day in which I am allowed to type. Not 'write', type. As in get words onto the page. Don't look back. Don't delete unless the typo is terrible or not correcting that spelling mistake would just slow down my flow because it would niggle at me. I have 37 minutes left right now. 37 minutes more to write words down in sentences. Once those 40 minutes are up, I am allowed 20 minutes to edit. If I am done typing before the 40 minutes are up, so be it, but I cannot begin editing until 40 minutes after I put down that first word. I'll have to be careful about setting timers in such events and disciplined about sticking to them. In any case, exactly one hour from the time when I put the first word down, I must post my piece.

Twenty-four hours after any given post goes up I am free to edit it as much as I like in my free time, but each post must be typed in 40 minutes, edited in 20 (over a single hour) and left up for 24 hours unaltered for the reading pleasure of anyone who wishes to take a gander, including me. So for example, if I began today at 22:08, I'd finish typing at 22:48, begin editing and post at 23:08, and on March 20th, 2012 at 23:08 and anytime thereafter I can re-edit that post. I now have 34 minutes of typing time left and I'm off downstairs to play GTA San Andreas for a bit (though the above has now been edited and expanded since it was first written, and made into two paragraphs).

30 minutes left now. Just came back to set a timer for when I come to do my editing. Worth mentioning that we presently have a kind of 'game' going related to GTASA. When it's on, whether being played or left to deteriorate, only music within its timeframe can be spun. A spindle of CDs is presently piling up downstairs and some future post will consider some of the records that have been Banksy Mansion's soundtrack during his time in San Andreas, before the operation... The assumption is that the game begins January 1st 1992, for simplicity's sake. It is presently May 17th, 1994. Banksy is just getting to the end of his newly purchased copy of 'The Downward Spiral' and wondering where he left his Skinny Puppy records. 27 minutes of typing to go. Today he listened to 'Thresholds' by Nocturnus, 'Heartwork' by Carcass, an AC/DC bootleg and much more.

And here I am in the edit phase with 15 minutes left. I should have mentioned that I can keep spewing words in the edit phase, but obviously that leaves less time for polishing any post. Tomorrow I will do my first post related to the interview I conducted on February 1st with Alan Nemtheanga of Primordial. It was 30 minutes and I felt it could have been better - that I should have prepared better, and that my anxiety on the day didn't help it go smoothly, but what the hey. I hadn't found the time to spin the incredible 'Redemption at the Puritan's Hand' a dozen or more times in advance of the chat: all I knew was that the record was great from three to four background listens. But actually, I'm pleased with how I spent the half hour. Apart from talking about the incident at this year's Bloodstock, we talked about scenes and how they are helped to grow and a few other things of interest. I should also mention that I am allowed to transcribe interviews outside of my 40+20 time, and during that writing/editing hour I can of course trawl the internet or grab books off my shelves to look for references. I can prepare for these posting sessions all I want, but in and of themselves they are restricted to the rules above, and if you care to look at them in those first 24 hours, you will see them as they were posted, after 1 hour of work. I guess it's also worth adding that the subject is indeterminate. Though as Paul Schwarz many know me for writing about music, I might choose to write on any topic. Music, bikes, (comic)books (factual or fictional), films, gigs, current events, happenings and inspiring spaces are likely to be recurring themes, but there's no necessary limit to what might come up. We'll see how that goes. 7.5 minutes to go. One final edit and I'll post.

1:10 left so I guess I'll say goodbye and get this posted.

Another 'Cold Sweat' Day

'I put my money in a suitcase
And headed for the big race
Felt a chill down my backbone
Hung up on the telephone
(nee-nanana-nee-nanana)
'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Is running down the back of my neck
To lose means trouble
To win means double
 And I got me a heavy bet'(breath.... dum-dum-dum-dum


'Cold, cold... Sweat!'
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)

'Gotta chill on the outside
Don't know how to read or write
Gotta pain on the outside
Ready but don't wanna fight
'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Is running down the back of my neck
To lose means trouble
To win means double
 And I got me a heavy bet'(breath.... dum-dum-dum-dum


'Cold, cold... Sweat!'
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)
(dum-dumdee-dumdumdum-dum-daadaa)

'Stone cold sober and stone cold sweat
Stone cold crazy
Take me to the vet'

[As deciphered from 'Cold Sweat' by Thin Lizzy]

Music can be many things. Able to impart a kind of energy by altering one's mood, it is arguably at least as powerful a drug as caffiene when employed correctly. I find that it helps spur me on, keep me going. I know that I am not alone in this, but I may perhaps be alone in how I use it when I ride a pedal-powered bicycle. Now as you may or may not be aware, I use a pedal-powered bicycle as my main form of transport. I do not consider myself a 'cyclist' just as I do not consider myself a 'driver': those two terms in particular tend to be used as if they were mutually exclusive, whereas they actually describe someone transporting themself from one place to another using one or another mode of carriage. So just as, in the future, I may well be a 'person who teleports' but not a 'teleporter', I am presently a person who cycles a lot but who also drives, walks, etc. I am not a cyclist, I cycle. I will expand upon this subject another time but suffice it to say that words matter; what particular word one employs matters. My good hiking buddy Tat Drumer illustrated this once by very astutely using the word 'real' where others might have employed 'true': I took note. But to continue on my original theme: the last few days (going all the way back to Friday at least, thinking about it) have been 'Cold Sweat' days because the above lyrics and the tune to which they swing have been what have helped power my riding; from Brentford to Bermondsey, Elephant and Castle to Highbury and Islington, Acton to Old Street, 'Cold Sweat' has travelled with me, edging out all competition - even Pentagram, and considering I saw them live on Friday, that's impressive. There are more reasons than the mere catchiness of the song: the stone cold sober line certainly chimes with me at present and I do sweat a lot.
If you look up Thin Lizzy's song from which they originate you will see that mine differ slightly: I have presented what has been bouncing around my head, complete with approximations of my approximations of the instrumental lines which fit between the lines. As you might have gathered, 'Cold Sweat' has been my soundtrack for the past two days because it has been lodged immovably in my head (the way 'Thirty-Two' was on my ride back from Tufnell Park): I have not been using a music player this past week. It is a great feeling being powered by music, whether it be originated from your head and amped by your voice or plugged into you via earphones. As with driving, you just have to keep your mind on the work of navigating the road while you enjoy your soundtrack.
For the pleasure of my past couple of days with 'Cold Sweat' I have to thank my friend Dongalong (he has to use the childrens' urinal, such is his size) for repeatedly spinning his highlights of 1983's 'Thunder and Lightning' at me at high volume. He refuses to be interviewed but thankfully another friend, Jon Lindqvist, may well be persuaded to impart his thoughts on the record another time. He is particularly sharp when it comes to explaining band's works in terms of the stage of their career they appear.
 'Cold Sweat' became part of a compilation I have been perfecting since 31st of October when I went on an incredible and very enjoyable ride with a bunch of other people. I will speak of that also another time but for now I will just say that it did involve me doing a rather fine job of singing the first verse of 'War Pigs' down the Brompton Road, an event I wish I had recorded. I mention all this because in working further on that compilation today I came across a rather delicious section of 'Cold Sweat', where Phil Lynott attempted to make four consecutive lines rhyme with the same sound:

'I've got me a whole month's wages
I haven't seen that much in ages
I might spend it in stages
And move out to Las Vegas'

You can actually head how he almost decides to force 'Las Vegas' into a grotesque shape, but he stops short of embarrassing himself. I hope I have managed the same above, but my next post will definitely have less 'I's...

Trailer Trashing Tufnell Park: Karma to Burn play at the Gaff, November 11th, 2011

Hyped up by nothing more than caffeine, killer music and the invigorating influence of physical movement, the chill of autumn touching sweat-drenched patches of skin has the effect of sobering, bringing a spirit which has been soaring back to solid ground. This sensation of returning to reality will come again in two hours, when the process of locking up a pedal cycle (Dedzed) and its trailer (Rayweld) is reversed so that the final thriteen miles of this thirty-odd mile day can be ridden and home can finally be reached. Right now, the incredible journey of this most special of Fridays continues. Walking into the Gaff toting Rayweld's bag - it's nearly 3-foot long and could fit a good few sub-machine guns - a bouncer asks, 'What's that? Your boxing gear?' Told that it's actually off the trailer from a 'pushbike', they wave 'no' to the offer of searching it, and the kind woman handling the list at the door agrees to keep it safe. Finding two friends (Flydrummer and Deathsinvoker) already settled into watching the band onstage, I make the assumption that that band is Desert Storm - after seeing two people in identical t-shirts it seems clear that this must be the name of tonight's local support. Pleasantly surprised by the quality of the work for a band at such a stage in their career, it is somewhat disappointing to discover that the band onstage is in fact the already-signed End of Level Boss. Still, the best is very much yet-to-come.

So, cards on the table time. I wish I could say I would have made it to this gig come hell or high water. When Karma to Burn next come to London that will be the situation: I will not miss it for the world. But tonight, I'm here because someone put faith in me to write what you see before you. I am indebted to that person because had I not been locked-in to going to this gig, I would have decided to go home and get sleep instead of making that ride to Tufnell Park from my previous location, Elephant and Castle. On Thursday I'd been called to work Saturday, which meant a start at before eight in the morning 15 miles away from home, 90 minutes of riding if cycled fast. I am indebted to that person because the last four weeks of my life  have been immeasurably enhanced because of the faith he placed in me. I hadn't even heard Karma to Burn before 22:10 on Friday November 11th, 2011. In the four weeks since, over half the time that I was able to listen to music has been spent listening to what must be West Virginia's finest export.

Going to see a band live as a 'virgin' to their work is perhaps a gamble, but it is a gamble that can pay off beautifully. Such was the state in which I first got hooked on Pentagram at 2009's 'Hole in the Sky' festival in Bergen. A mere few notes into the performance I was hooked, and for the next hour when there was music, I was headbanging.  (They play the Garage tomorrow, so if you haven't heard them you should go down and see what you're missing). My experience with Karma to Burn on November 11th was much the same. Not having listened to them on record, I had also forgotten what their 'selling point' had been when they appeared back in the late '90s. As a result, I mistook the first couple of tracks for lengthy introductory jams, building to the point where all four of the band's instruments would be brought to bear - they need but three. Just before the third number, guitarist William Mecum cleared things up. Without saying a word, he put his guitar to the side, picked up the microphone in front of which he had been playing, carried it offstage, came back on, flashed a grin and launched into the next song. It is easy to be cynical about the concept of a band who play feel-based, riff-oriented music which seeks to use no more notes and chords than is absolutely necessary and yet is devoid of vocals. You'd think it would get boring, that something more than drums, bass and one guitar would be needed, but with music this visceral, music that is so essentially rhythmic, it works perfectly. The effect is enhanced immensely tonight by the fact that the band say nothing at all. In the two live performances I have been obsessively spinning since my conversion on November 11th, Karma to Burn always open their mouths somewhere: not in Tufnell Park. They don't introduce themselves, they don't stop to make a crack before removing the microphone, and devoid of microphones they don't ask the crowd whether they 'want some more' after 'Twenty-Eight' and 'Thirty-Two' (as I later discover they are called) have provided the set's high point and one more number sees them rest, only to be greeted by howls which force them on for three more numbers. I leave one song before they finish because my good bud Flydrummer has to get a tube, but I'd bet they don't even say 'thank you and good night' and I'd say their performance is all the better for it. Though I hadn't heard a note before I walked in, I was hooked from early on and for most of the set was shaking like a madman, moving to the rhythms like I knew every note. Like classic Sabbath or indeed Pentagram, Karma to Burn's cuts come across more as discoveries than creations; songs encased in rock like a fossil or the proverbial sculpture: artifacts which have always been there, it is just that someone had to come and chip away the bits that weren't needed.

It was great to see so many people out late on a Friday when not only were Dripback playing at the Unicorn down the road but, more significantly, Devin Townsend was at the ULU doing all of 'Addicted' with Anneke van Giersbergen from the Gathering. The Gaff may not be London's most prestigious live venue, but tonight's impressive sound and warm atmosphere encouraged me to come again. It was great to be on my bike, as though it would take some time to get home towing the trailer and all, I had no worries about the tube. Even better, though I had rain to contend with and got lost around Kilburn, extending the ride, even once my MP3 player had run out of juice and Trap Them's 'Darker Handicraft' thus fell by the wayside, 'Twenty Eight'continuined running around my head, and humming its catchy refrain over and over, I got home with a smile on my face.

Here we go (again!)

It's been quite a struggle getting myself to get this blog going, but it's a struggle worth struggling with. I'll work and ride around and come home and cook and fix my bike and do all kinds of regular things, often writing in my head story after story that should be up here, that will be up here, but not getting around to sitting down and hashing them out. This will cease. As some of you reading will know, I have taken an extended break from writing on a regular basis. I have so much built up inside that it's almost painful. But I'll start as I mean to go on, so in the next 2 hours I will have up my first proper post, an account of Friday November 11th focusing on the awesome Karma to Burn gig I attended. I will explain more about how this blog works and what it will cover another time. Thanks for reading and for your patience.