Chimaira - Rob Arnold Interview

Here's a chat I had with Rob Arnold of Chimaira just prior to departing on their two month US tour; be sure to read Buzz Magazine next month for more Chimaira news!

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A phage is spreading across the metal realm and it about to be released by metalcore pioneers Chimaira. Their latest album, The Infection and its accompanying sensory onslaught seeks to instill a sense of dread from every direction, taking on a dirge-like quality that invokes the bleak and inevitable. However Rob Arnold, founding lead guitarist didn’t have plans for such a grandiose, conceptual piece; he tells us it “sorta just happened.”

“We go into every record saying ‘let’s see what happens when we get together and start writing,’” he straight-forwardly confesses. “That sludgier, sort of doomy more brutal sound was just what was swirling [around our heads] at the time.”

The record’s genesis began rather unceremoniously in the back of a tour bus with Mark and Rob setting up a makeshift studio during the latter stages of their Resurrection world tour.

“We set up a studio in the back lounge of the tour bus at the end of the Resurrection cycle [of tours] and we said ‘Hey, its about time we wrote a new record.’ So, on the first day we got it all together, got my guitar plugged in and the first riff played was the opening riff to the song Try to Survive. Its just got this cool groove. (starts to sing song) It’s got this cool heavy vibe to it.

“We liked it and we finished up that song that night. The other guys were popping their heads in there and saying ‘Hey, that sounds cool.’ We just knew we were on to something. It just really set the tone for the rest of the tunes.”

And they were written similarly quickly; the “first seven songs were written over the course of a month, on the rest of that tour,” Rob reveals. “The whole process probably took around three months or so.”

Even though the buzz around the record has been momentous for the band in their eleven year career, the no-nonsense Rob doesn’t seem to see it. He insists that the recording took place under routine circumstances, even enlisting former keyboardist Ben Schigel to handle the production again.

“[Ben] has been our long time friend and producer [who’s] done a bunch our stuff. We had all the songs written and we just went in and did our thing. There wasn’t anything really special about the recording.”

The Infection, when released on the 21st of April, will feature a ton of goodies and bonuses for fans; those who are lucky enough to snag the first 580 “metal briefcases” will also receive a flag, a DVD documentary and a syringe shaped USB stick with demos, pictures and other bonus tracks among other merchandise. (“We had to sign about 100 of them” Rob tells me, “we had a little assembly line going in our practice space”) Rob’s involvement was limited to playing the songs on the record and giving a final tick of approval to the finished artwork.

“Mark and Chris, our singer and keyboard play have a ton to do with that stuff. I’m the kind of guy where they make the stuff and they show it to me and then I’m like ‘Hey, that looks good.’ Those guys are heavily involved in the artwork and every concept of what goes on with each record and they work real closely with [label] Ferret Records and their team.

“They always make cool looking stuff. Its just for fans that like something a little extra special.”

Constantly on the road, Chimaira certainly aren't afraid of a little hard work with Rob describing their touring schedule as "definitely intense", especially when they've begun writing on tour.

"We're gone for the long part of the year and we don't get to spend much time at home. But that comes with the territory. We're a metal band and we have to get out there and work it. We have to rely on the word of mouth; play as many shows as you can and get as many people to see you as possible.

"In metal, you can't really rely on radio at all, so this something we know we have to do. For ten years now it's been write a record, record it, tour on it. Now, like you said, we're even writing while we're already on tour."

Despite the fatigue of the road (and sea), Rob and the crew are already psyched up to play Australia and New Zealand again.

“We had a great time last time and we’re really looking forward to coming back in [Autumn.] Our last show with Korn was in New Zealand and we’re really excited to go back.”

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© Tom Valcanis / Crushtor Media Services, All Rights Reserved. Posted with permission.

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A Wit Unparalleled

In my view, I have never once read a finer exposition on the U.S., or rather Western liberal democracy and how we "see" and "live" in it. Truly remarkable. Allow yourself a few moments to savor.

"Corporations fill but one cage in a large menagerie. Let us glance at some of the other queer creatures created by personifying abstractions in America. Here in the center is a vast figure called the Nation -- majestic and wrapped in the Flag. When it sternly raises its arm, we are ready to die for it. Close behind rears a sinister shape, the Government.. Following it is one even more sinister, Bureaucracy. Both are festooned with the writhing serpents of red tape. High in the heavens is the Constitution, a kind of chalice like the Holy Grail, suffused with ethereal light. It must never be joggled. Below floats the Supreme Court, a black-robed priesthood tending the eternal fire.

The Supreme Court must be addressed with respect or it will neglect the fire and the Constitution will go out. This is synonymous with the end of the world. Somewhere above the Rocky Mountains are lodged the vast stone tablets of the Law. We are governed not by men but by these tablets. Near them, in stain breeches and silver buckles, pose the stern figures of our Forefathers, contemplating glumly the Nation they brought to birth. The onion-shaped demon cowering behind the Constitution is Private Property. Higher than Court, Flag, or the Law, close to the sun itself and almost as bright, is Progress, the ultimate God of America.

"Looming along the coasts are two horrid monsters, with scaly paws outstretched: Fascism and Communism. Confronting them, shield in hand and a little cross-eyed from trying to watch both at once, is the colossal figure of Democracy. Will he fend them off? We wring our hands in supplication, while admonishing the young that governments, especially democratic governments, are incapable of sensible action. From Atlantic to Pacific a huge, corpulent shape entitled Business pursues a slim, elusive Confidence, with a singular lack of success. The little trembling ghost down in the corner of Massachusetts, enclosed in a barrel, is the Taxpayer. Liberty, in diaphanous draperies, leaps from cloud to cloud, lovely and unapproachable.

"Here are the Masses, thick, black, and squirming. This demon must be firmly sat upon; if it gets up, terrible things will happen .... Capital, her skirts above her knees, is prepared to leave the country at the drop of a hairpin, but never departs. Skulking from city to city goes Crime, a red, loathsome beast, upon which the Law is forever trying to drop a monolith, but its aim is poor. Crime continues rhythmically to Rear Its Ugly Head. Here is the dual shape of Labor -- for some a vast, dirty, clutching hand, for others a Galahad in armor. Pacing to and fro with remorseless tread are the Trusts and the Utilities, bloated, unclean monsters with enormous biceps. Here is Wall Street, a crouching dragon ready to spring upon assets not already nailed down in any other section of the country. The Consumer, a pathetic figure in a gray shawl, goes wearily to market. Capital and Labor each giver her a kick as she passes, while Commercial Advertising, a playful spirit, squirts perfume into her eyes.

"From the rear, Sex is a foul creature but when she turns, she becomes wildly alluring. Here is the home, a bright fireplace in the stratosphere. The Economic Man strolls up and down, completely without vertebrae. He is followed by a shambling demon called the Law of Supply and Demand. Production, a giant with lightning in his fist, parades reluctantly with Distribution, a thin, gaunt girl, given to fainting spells. Above the oceans the golden scales of a Favorable Balance of Trade occasionally glitter in the sun. When people see the glitter, they throw their hats into the air. That column of smoke, ten miles high, looping like a hoop snake, is the Business Cycle. That clanking goblin, all gears and switchboards, is Technological Unemployment. The Rich, in full evening regalia, sit at a loaded banquet table, which they may never leave, gorging themselves forever amid the crystal and silver ....

"Such, gentlemen, is the sort of world which our use of language fashions."

-- Stuart Chase, The Tyranny of Words (1937), pp. 23-25.

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Plugging Away

Yes, so. I have a few projects on the boil that are rapidly progressing; my first proper marketable article about comedy in the age of the internet (got my first interviewee on board), an article for Farrago that was funnier in its conception compared to its production, two more interviews to write (Chimaira and My Dying Bride, natch) an article with the Australian General Semantics Society for ETC., a collaboration with Shai on an article for Triple Helix regarding semiotics and cybernetics, a couple of reviews and finally, some shitty-arse uni essays. Too bad voice wreck ignition software sucks balls.

But I can bypass all the rhetorical puff that usually accompanies my reviews with relatively few: Kreator's Hordes of Chaos could quite possibly be the finest thrash metal record of the decade. I don't think a record has made me want to violently mosh while writing a critical analysis of primary historical source before, but this one fucking did.

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