1 2 The Daily Collegian
ent Reznor, the driving force behind the group Nine Inch Nails, has
wined popularity through his unique brand of industrial music.
Industrial music
nakes big noise
Long in the shadows of
zppier fare, industrial
Music is starting to
t-nerge into the
rtainstream music scene
Ry GEORGE MASEK
311egian Arts Writer
A friend has the audacity to
ave the new Skinny Puppy CD at
,ur house. After a moment of con-
_ mplation, you decide to subject
our stereo to this form of audible
I - lolence. The first track presents a
alm introduction resembling a
21assical piece, when suddenly
ou're treated to the punishing
beat of a resonating drum machine,
creeching feedback and guitar
, fictortion pushed almost to the
- mint of becoming static leaving
our eardrums in a state of caustic
obliteration.
What you just listened to was the
9und of industrial music.
Spawned from groups like Clock
)VA and Throbbing Gristle, indus
trial music has grown as an insur
gent kindred to heavy metal and
early 'Bos synth pop. As the techno
logical machine drives on through
the '9os, more and more bands are
'beginning to incorporate key
hoards and computers into their
music.
Though the term industrial can
over a broad range of sub-genres
such as gothic, ambient and in
some occasions even techno, the
picture immediately drawn to mind
is the abrasive guitars, discordant
samples and reverberated key
board lines of renowned acts Min
istry and Nine Inch Nails.
In recent years, the dance-orient
ed fuel that ignited the industrial
revolution seems to have given
way to a more marketable ensem
ble of crunching guitar riffs and
angst-ridden vocals exemplified by
Ministry's new opus, Filth Pig.
"I think all the old-school indus
rial bands like Ministry and Front
Line Assembly have made it a point
to incorporate heavy metal gui
tars," said Dan Baker (junior-aero
space engineering), an industrial
music fan and musician.
Baker is somewhat skeptical
toward the motivation behind
mainstream industrial progression.
"I'd like to think that the point of
, t is not to try and make money or
reach more of an audience, but
that's the way it does seem," Baker
said.
Some fans differ from this view
entirely. Ron Davies (graduate-eco
nomics) feels that industrial has
stayed with its original format
while convoluting with new influ
ences.
"It's taken into account the influ
ences that younger people have
grown up on the Cure, and even
incorporated some techno," Davies
said.
Davies, who plays guitar in a
local industrial band called Spine,
has been listening to industrial
music for seven years. Though he
still claims perennial standbys
KNIFDM and Skinny Puppy as
vArimr :
mr; arArri-Fig -
Courtesy of Interscope Records
favorites, he said he has noticed a
change in a music scene once
savored by a quiet, underground
minority
"It's still kind of a do-what-you
want attitude, although it's kind of
losing that as the more mainstream
people catch on to it and expect
certain things," Davies said.
In a local underground scene
here that is dedicated to serving
ska and hard-core, little attention
has been paid to industrial until
recently. With the success of the
Marilyn Manson show at Crowbar,
420 E. College Ave., in January,
Dante's Inc. promoter Dave Wells
said there appears to be a growing
market for industrial.
"It's a good music and I think the
interest is growing," Wells said.
"As that need becomes greater, so
will our supply of industrial
music," he added.
Though Crowbar may be too
small to host a large act like Min
istry, Wells said lesser-known acts,
such as Sister Machine Gun, would
draw fans.
"If you put a couple of (industri
al bands) together, people trust
that it's going to be a good show,"
he added.
While Wells said a relatively
small number of local industrial
acts represent the scene well,
Davies, as a member of a fledgling
band, believes otherwise.
"The scene here is compact, it's
hard to get into because not many
bars will give new bands a chance,"
Davies said.
Stabilizing in popularity after
much deserved success, Ministry
and Nine Inch Nails have continued
to thrive in record sales.
However, a plethora of acts have
followed the road before them and
are beginning to over-saturate the
genre.
"I don't think it's gotten more
popular in the last few years, but I
don't think it's really declined
either," said Jay Williams, assis
tant manager at Blue Train Com
pact Disc, 418 E. College Ave.
As a former fan of industrial,
Williams has a jaded view on the
music's recent progression, believ
ing it to be a dead-end road. He
said while a few bands have met
with commercial success, most
industrial albums remain cher
ished by a select audience.
"The people that buy it seem to
be really gung-ho about it,"
Williams said.
Opinions about industrial music
seem to vary as much as the bands
themselves.
Because many consist of only
one or two musicians, the message
they convey is often personalized
and sometimes isolatory. The lis
tener is either singled out or alien
ated. For some, this hit-or-miss
approach is alluring and ideal. As a
musician, Davies relates well to the
industrial philosophy.
"It's more about doing what you
can do all by yourself," he said.
"It's not necessarily relying on the
band format or the ability to play
traditional instruments. It's more
just thinking for yourself and
doing what you feel is best."
,
/// /ii• ecess
Mindless
sound to
By DAVID ANDREWS
Collegian Arts Writer
This may be the home of Jason and Chris
Sevanick, but at first glance it looks like a for
tune teller's chamber. Jason and Chris, mem
bers of local industrial band Mindless Faith, sit
under a dimmed light covered by a draped
white cloth. Nearby is a blue-glass figure of a
head, and candles drip from nearby shelves.
One item gives away the musical nature of
the room, though. In a corner of the room sits a
long keyboard, complete with the dozens of but
tons and flashing lights that characterize a sam
pler.
To Jason and Chris Sevanick, darkened rooms
and subversive industrial music go hand-in
hand.
"It's a great creative atmosphere," said
Jason, who plays guitar and sings in the band's
live performances. It was in this room where
much of the material from their debut album,
The Silence, was written.
When Jason, still in high school, would visit
his older brother Chris at college, he seldom
went out to socialize with his brother's friends.
Instead, he would sit in the room and write
songs.
"I don't know if I was sulking, but I was lying
down, and it was raining," Jason said of the
night he wrote the album's final song, "Desert
Wind."
"Desert Wind," along with the rest of The
Silence, recreates the dark atmosphere that the
band inhabits perfectly. Filled with slow, relent
less rhythms and eerie electronic sounds and
samples, the album has earned Mindless Faith a
name beyond State College, a town not known
for industrial music.
The release of the album a month ago has
given the Sevanicks, along with fellow mem
bers John Boese (junior-electrical engineering)
and newcomer Mike Ewall (senior-sociology), a
Members of the now-defunct Skinny Puppy strike a typically frigtening pose. The band, one of the pioneers of industrial music, recently
released their final album, The Process.
Skinny Puppy is gone but not
Despite their recent
breakup, Skinny Puppy's
last recording offers
something new and
innovative.
By DAVID ANDREWS
Collegian Arts Writer
To virgin ears, the first listen to
Skinny Puppy isn't exactly a fun
experience. Close your eyes and
strap on the headphones, and you
may start to feel like you're falling
into a bottomless abyss, passing
grotesque demons and images of
death along the way.
Unfortunately, with their final
release, The Process, we find that
this abyss does in fact have a bot
tom.
Probably one of the most influen
tial and innovative bands ever to
strap on a sampling keyboard,
Puppy recently broke up amid con
flict between band members and
the tragic death of D. R. Goettel,
the band's keyboard player, in
August.
Faith brings
the local music scene
"There are fans of industrial music out there."
chance for exposure beyond the occasional per
formance. While they have had difficulties find
ing suitable venues to play, the album sales
have been picking up. Songs from the album
have been played on WKPS-FM (90.7) and
WQWK-FM (97QWK), and Jason has been inter
viewed on WQWK.
The band is confident their recent upward
trend will continue.
"Our popularity and sales are rising exponen
tially," Chris said. "Things are snowballing."
Perhaps their do-it-yourself work ethic is
finally paying off. The band produced the CD
on their own record label, using their own tech
nology. And the mixing was done in their own
home.
Chris sat down at the sampling keyboard and
demonstrated how the album was created.
"Basically, anything audible we can put in
here," he said. Sounds from other instruments,
clips from movies, voices or household noises
are recorded through a microphone and onto
the sampler's hard drive.
Press a button here and flip a switch there,
and each key elicits the sound of a bass drum in
a different tone. Mix things up again, and you
get the sound of a door slamming. Slipping
another disk into the sampler's hard drive,
Chris loaded up the percussion line from their
latest song.
"You make different parts and string them all
together," Jason said. When each part has been
put together, the press of a button lets loose a
coherent, multilayered song that lacks only the
vocals and guitar parts that will be added later.
Homemade electronics also provide a multi-
The Process, recorded before the
band's breakup, marks the final
chapter in their turbulent exis
tence. Though it takes the band
into new directions, it is still defi
nitely Puppy.
In typical fashion, unusually
named ringleaders Nivek Ogre and
cEvin Key have created a thick,
swirling brew of industrial soup.
Electronic blips and beeps float to
the top, interspersed with Ogre's
treated vocals and samples from
movies.
But in a departure from 1992's
Last Rights, the band has included
some thicker chunks into the
morass, with driving guitar riffs
that bubble over in their most
structured and melodic materials
to date.
"Jahya" starts the album with
winding piano melody that drifts
into the listener's consciousness,
then jolts him awake with driving
guitars.
This tempo carries over onto
"Death," which starts as a bleak
mood piece, then develops into the
fastest, heaviest song on the album.
The guitars at the forefront occa-
sionally stop, letting in the elec
tronic hum to remind the listener
that the band hasn't completely
turned to metal.
But the most surprising depar
ture from the band is "Candle,"
which introduces acoustic guitars
into the mix with uncharacteristic
vocals that lack the metallic distor
tion Ogre has become accustomed
to. Though the song seems a bit out
of place, lyrics about "seasons of
dissolute pain" and "the pit of
calamity" continue the morbid
mood, accented by the inevitable
change to electric.
As the album progresses, new
sounds added to the mix blend
nicely, including a cello and viola
part in "Cult." These new instru
ments only add to the swirling
atmospherics of "Morter" and
"Process."
The latter starts with Hallowee
ny horror sounds, then moves into
a chaotic collage of sampled phras
es like "mass control" and "individ
ual freedom."
"Process," though compelling in
itself, starts the rest of the album
off on a less adventurous trend, but
Friday, March 1, 1996
industrial
media flare to their live performances. Chris
created a video of distorted images, including
kaleidoscopic patterns of "video feedback." The
color of an ocean wave or a movie star has been
altered to create a visual experience that is
played at live performances to add to their
effect.
Despite their efforts to create a more dynam
ic live show, a lack of interest in industrial
music has limited their options on the live
scene, although they have headlined at Crow
bar, 420 E. College Ave., several times.
"There are fans of industrial music out
there," said Jordan Harris (freshman-liberal
arts), a fan of Mindless Faith. "But a lot of pro
moters don't believe it will generate good
enough crowds."
He said venues such as the Asylum hesitate
to book bands that don't play punk or ska.
"It takes a lot more promotion to sell an
industrial band," said Derek Canova, assistant
manager at Mike's Movies and Music, 210 E
Calder Way. Since no club holds an industrial or
gothic night, and no other industrial bands are
available to play with, exposure has been diffi
cult to obtain.
But interest may be growing. WKPS now
plays a gothic and industrial show, in which
Mindless Faith was once featured as the "artist
of the week." And through the Internet, people
from across the country can hear clips from
The Silence or order the album.
"I'm always getting E-mail from people all
over, saying, 'I got your CD, and I really like
it,' " Chris said. "It's really encouraging."
forgotten
Music!.
nullIOW p;sa
"The Process"
Skinny Puppy
the wide vocabulary of sounds
keeps things interesting. Stuttering
machine gun rhythms combined
with angelic hums give songs like
"Curcible" and "Blue Serge"
weight, though they eventually
blend together.
Despite the morbid images
throughout, the final track of the
album offers a ray of hope. The
minute-long instrumental "Cellar
Heat" ends abruptly, but those who
have their CD player on "repeat"
will notice that this instrumental
brings the album full circle with a
rhythm echoed in the first song.
The circularity of The Process
leaves a ray of hope for devastated
Puppyheads: Inevitably, the legacy
left by Skinny Puppy will be picked
up by young industrial innovators,
and the process will continue.
Jordan Harris
freshman-liberal arts