Life Of Agony

an interview with Alan Robert of Life Of Agony during the Whitfield Crane era

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Lacuna Coil

I picked up on Lacuna Coil with their first self titled Century Media EP release. It introduced the sound that would be the guiding light of their musical career thus far. Lush, soothing gothic metal, with interesting riffs, keyboards and amazing vocal harmonies. In fact, an interesting point about Lacuna Coil is that they have two dedicated vocalists, Andrea Ferro and Cristina Scabbia. Their vocal harmonies and interplay are what set the band apart from the pack. Andrea occasionally sings in a lower, gruff - yet powerful - style in addition to his clean complimentary harmonies. Cristina leads, prods, fluffs and adds dimension to each song and vocal extremity.

Back in 1997 when these talented Italians made their debut, few folks in the US were listening to this style of music. Most people were still caught up in the repulsive remnants of the ultra trendy and overdone “Seattle Sound” or feeding the pop punk explosion. The US market simply wasn’t ready. Various other bands came onto the international scene. Nightwish, My Dying Bride, The Gathering, Therion, Tristania, and Theatre of Tragedy were becoming recognized names in the growing gothic metal realm. Lacuna Coil was right there with them.

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Last Crack

It started just like any other local hard-rock band. A couple of guys from an unheard-of band hooked up with some other guys in another unheard-of band through a billboard at a local music store. They had a practice space, a PA, a following (well, plenty of friends), two guitar wiz’s, a dynamite rhythm section… what they needed was a singer. So back to the billboard they went, in search of a vocalist that could compliment their intricate rhythms, blend with their mysterious melodies and cut in through the intense guitar solos of a metal band.

And there it was, a poster for an available singer. It was Buddo, of the Snotrockets. They ripped all of the tags from the poster and went home to call him. It was the summer of 1987.

Buddo showed up to the storage facility in McFarland that was the band’s rehearsal space. “I’m Paul” proclaims guitarist Paul Schluter. “ahh… Pablo” replied Buddo. “I’m Todd,” says bassist Todd Winger. “Toddereno,” remarked Buddo. “Phil ,” mutters original drummer Phil Buerstatte. “Philo,” again replied Buddo. Somehow, guitarist Don Bakken remained “Don,” but together they would become Last Crack.

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48 Hours in Iceland with Last Crack

March 30 1800 Central Standard Time: Last Crack and crew await boarding an Icelandair 757 at Minneapolis International Airport. To settle nerves some of the boys have taken to the bar and shot glass. Happy flights, next stop Iceland!

0630 Atlantic Standard Time: That’s midnight for us Wisconsinites. Our day starts waking up at Iceland’s Keflavik airport in need of transportation for our crew of nine plus gear to Reykjavik, Iceland’s capitol forty-nine kilometers to the west. Reykjavik is about the size of Madison and harbors two thirds of the island nation’s population.

An attempt was made to find the difference in cost between the bus and a rental car at the Hertz window when along comes a cab driver with an idea. Olafsson, the world’s only Porsche taxi driver, tells us he’s going to Reykjavik anyway so he’ll give us a good deal. He also suggested we rent a one-way car for the rest of the gear and guys and just drop off the car in the city. Brilliant idea! He saved us some money right off the bat.

0800 AST: After an intense drive past kilometer after kilometer of moss covered lava, mountains and volcanoes, Olafsson drops us off at the club we’re playing that night, The Grand Rokk.

Kalli, the owner, and his associate Jon (pronounced like yan but with a little yone in it) meet us and dole out cups of espresso by the dozens to the weary set of travelers, trapped in their lair. They tell us of Vikings, celtic lore and Icelandic customs, then take us to the guest rooms at the hotel Adam to meet host Ragnar and get some rest.

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Last Crack: On the Road in Amsterdam

I awoke that morning of April the third to stories of snoring, dragons, taxi rides, red lights, girls behind glass doors, Finlanders, The Grand Rokk, Kalli and Jon, the Blue Lagoon, lava, sheep’s head, shark, Black Death and many more than I can list. That sleep allowed us to process that insanity called “48 Hours in Iceland.”

The group is hungry and everyone wants to eat down by the canals and walk around a bit. The Damrak, Amsterdam’s main street, is busy with people of all nationalities buzzing every which way. Cars, taxicabs, trains, bikes, horses, and motorcycles are all out to get me, it seems, as I weave my way through the web once again… only this time, the spiders are asleep.

We end up at a Turkish restaurant in the Red Light District called Grillroom Donny. It’s a small place with a great waiter and everyone gets kabobs and shaorma. The food sets our mood with combinations of spice and relish.

I can’t miss an opportunity for a quick space cake for desert, so it’s back to the Bulldog to check the Internet before heading back to the hotel.

We take the train back to the Hotel Etap and stop at the Heineken machine on the way in to call Freek Kroesbergen, the promoter of the Headway festival (www.headwayfestival.com). He was relieved to hear from us, as bands have gotten lost in Amsterdam before (too many space cakes I guess). He told us to stay put and sent a bus and driver to pick us up.

As we pull up to the site of the festival, Club P60 (www.p60.nl), we can see the bustle of people around the entrance and feel the buzz as music pours out the backstage door to the venue.

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Tommy Lee

Tommy Lee became synonymous with drumming in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, his solos setting the standards by which all future drummers would be judged, and his presence one of unparalleled rock ‘n’ roll excess. Since those heralded days in Mötley Crüe, a lot has happened, but Lee’s focus hasn’t shifted. Through tabloid headline after tabloid headline, he’s kept his music close to his heart, all the while, his personal life being run through the American psyche as if it were made for prime time television. And while the hooplah may have been more than most men could handle, in sitting down with Tommy Lee as the release of his sophomore solo effort approaches (this time the project is simply called Tommy Lee, and the album, appropriately, Never A Dull Moment), it’s practically chilling how sound both in mind and body the international superstar has become. It’s as if the more he’s been through, the more he’s learned, and Lee savors the newfound knowledge with an enviable zest for life. The same zest that he applies to his music. On the eve of the band’s departure for the road in support of Lee’s latest solo outing, Maximum Ink sat down with the drummer-turned-frontman to discuss life as an icon, and the albums that have come as a result… 

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Les Percussions De Guinee

A heavenly outpouring of throbbing jubilation, forceful uplifting beats and pounding enthusiasm, Les Percussions de Guinee’s djembe drumming is vibrant and hypnotic, a tumbling tapestry of blustery resonance and driving rhythms. International cultural ambassadors, this government sponsored ensemble takes the most talented players from their Les Ballet Africains and competing regional companies to showcase this rhythm nation’s complete complement of percussion instruments, including log drums, water drums, five headed drums and a xylophone predecessor called a balafon.  Playing with celebrities as diverse as Harry Belafonte, Elvin Jones, and the Police, this dancing, drumming storytelling troupe represented their country in the worldwide touring company of Africa Oye as well as Imax’s new production of global rhythms hosted by British performance artists Stomp.

Thunderous and uproarious, the fifteen-member troupe presents thousands of years of tradition with decades of experience. Their groundbreaking use of female drummers reinforces Mickey Hart’s belief that before man took over the drum for their military communications, the women were the principal performers, linked to various fertility rituals. Historical speculation aside, the current version of the Ensemble is one of the best. With three new members, bringing one of Guinee’s chief folklorist out of retirement, the addition of flute and the twenty-two stringed kora, Les Percussions de Guinee 2001 blends youth, wisdom and perspective, moving the group from a remarkable drum circle to a phenomenal panorama of a rich musical culture.

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