Reykjavík Grapevine - 15.06.2007, Blaðsíða 17
RVK_GV_INFO_ISSUE 08_007_MUSIC/INTERVIEW_B13B1_RVK_GV_INFO_ISSUE 08_007_NATIONAL HOLIDAY
The Buffalo born, Tampa raised band Cannibal
Corpse has long been a staple of the Death
Metal genre. Their lyrics are gore obsessed
(pun intended), although not in the humorous
medical book fashion employed by Carcass or,
more recently, Exhumed, but in a vein of infan-
tile splatter movie scripts that runs red through
a massive discography and various line-ups all
the way back to their 1988 adolescent heyday.
On their latest offering, Kill, the songs still read
like a sadist manifesto of kill this, gore that, a
spot of impalement there and a dash of flesh
eating Zombies here.
“I like to think that most of our fans can
depend on us and can trust us at this point in
our career,” says Cannibal Corpse’s bass player
Alex Webster – speaking to me over the phone
fresh from a recent stint in Europe.
In comparison to recent developments in
the Death Metal genre that is getting more
technical and faster with each passing year,
Cannibal Corpse’s modus operandi is a bit
aberrant. When pressed about the lack of
speed and technical twists in their song writing,
Alex concedes the point saying that if they
were to compete with bands like Origin and
Brain Drill for speed they would surely lose,
and although he personally wouldn’t mind
adding a pinch of jazzed up Cryptopsy flavour,
ultimately Cannibal Corpse chooses to focus
on making the heaviest (having kept Kill in
rotation for a couple of weeks this seems like
an understatement), best and catchiest music
possible and satisfying long time fans.
Seeing as how Cannibal Corpse was ori-
ginally formed in 1988, during the infancy
of the Death Metal phenomenon, Alex says
history is currently being written regarding
the longevity of acts in the genre and how
old, for example, a drummer in a band that
tours extensively can get while still keeping up
machine gun tempo for an hour every night. A
pressing issue surely and one that Alex – who
finds sleep on the tour bus harder and harder
by the years – addresses with a lot of time in
the gym.
During our conversation, Alex’s more ap-
pealing character traits, such as his exemplary
politeness, shine through. As this diametric
opposition between the music and lyrics pedd-
led by Death Metal musicians and their real life
personality is something I often come across,
I ask him if he can relate, which he does:
“Of course every person that is into Death
Metal isn’t the same person, we’re all indivi-
duals. But it’s not uncommon to find people
who are very reserved and polite, like you said,
in the Death Metal scene, and the time that
they release any inner hostility or whatever
they might have is through the music. Either
as a fan in the pit headbanging or up on stage
playing the music...”
The fact that the guy seems laid back like
a recliner and is apt to elaborate for over five
minutes on every question (most of which he’s
probably answered far too often) leads me to
believe that this is the reason frontmanship
was awarded to (or forced on) him. This turns
out not to be far from the truth, as he claims
in fact to be among the more talkative of
the bunch and that by force of him being a
founding member he is easily trumped in the
interview avoiding game by members with
shorter tenure – or in possession of a more
easily annoyed temper – who are unable to
respond correctly to some questions regarding
various eras of the band.
Cannibal Corpse stands apart from their
Death Metal brethren for one thing in particular
and that is their performance in the 1994 Hol-
lywood blockbuster Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.
The official story is that their appearance was
requested by Jim Carrey himself – a claim that
I’ve always found a bit hard to swallow, and
is therefore my highest ranking subject of
curiosity and, according to Alex, among the
most frequent queries put to him by fans and
media.
“He actually did ask for us personally. He
even knew the names of the songs and everyt-
hing and once we got there he was like, “Yeah
could you guys play Rancid Amputation and
Hammer Smashed Face?”, Alex tells me.
So with my curiosity slaked and the tape
about to run out there is but one matter to be
addressed – the mandatory question of how
much the band is actually looking forward to
visiting our wind-beaten shores. Since bands
of Cannibal Corpse’s stature are seldom told
about the low-ball offers made to their booking
agents or managers by Icelandic promoters,
shows like this do not come about except by
cutting out the middle man and talking straight
to the band – indicating that bands who do
so (e.g. Cannibal Corpse) are indeed quite
psyched on the prospect of coming here.
So too is Alex Webster, who says that Ice-
land is just about the biggest thing on Can-
nibal Corpse’s to-do list for ’07. As the tape
screeches to a halt I let him wax poetic on the
subject for just little bit longer until phone
bill worries put an end to the pleasantries. I
hang up on him with wishes for their summer
European tour to be great and hopes of seeing
them lay Nasa to waste this summer.
Peddling Death Metal to the Gore Starved Masses
Text by Bogi Bjarnarson
“I like to think that most
of our fans can depend on
us and can trust us at this
point in our career.”
Brace yourself for Iceland’s National
Day, celebrated on Sunday June 17.
It was that day in 1944 that Iceland-
ers claimed independence from their
Danish oppressors. It also marks the
birthday of 19th century indepen-
dence movement leader, Jón Sig-
urðsson. The impressive schedule
of events begins with the ringing of
church bells in central Reykjavík at
9:55 am when a ceremonial wreath
is laid on the grave of Sigurðsson.
A little later, the “Woman of the
Mountains” dressed in traditional
costume gives a speech at the open-
ing ceremony on Austurvöllur. More
wreaths are laid in Sigurðsson’s hon-
our before everyone heads off to
church. The less official festivities in-
clude street entertainment and mu-
sic. The highlight of the day is the
usually well-attended parade down
Laugavegur.
June 17 Celebration
Illustration by Bobby Breiðholt // www.krotborg.blogspot.com
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