Varsity Review (1993)

Last updated on January 3, 2010

Originally published by Varsity Review, 31 March 1997

Helmet still experiencing the aftertaste

Helmet’s profile has never made for great copy. The hook usually goes something like this: four clean-cut gentlemen who make ear-splitting music. Granted, they live by their own protocol, but it hasn’t changed since day one. So it seems rather anti-climactic to expound on the band’s new disc, aftertaste. By the same token, Helmet’s refusal to yield to the prevailing winds in current music is what makes them as vital as ever.

By Andre Mayer

It’s been eight years since the release of those volcanic first singles on the garish Amphetamine Reptile label. Not surprisingly, aftertaste largely distills the qualities that have always defined Helmet’s music: utilitarian riffage, apoplectic rhythms, raging vocals. The disc features band-leader Page Hamilton doing his best approximation of singing, rendering some tracks, like “Renovation” and “Like I Care,” remarkably tuneful.

Rest assured, though, this stuff won’t give you cavities: the guitars still roar like a Panzer division and Hamilton still brays more than he, say, emotes. What aftertaste signifies, though, is the zenith of the band’s sound. All the elements Hamilton’s alternately Neanderthal and avant-garde guitar work, Henry Bogdan’s lumbering bass-playing, John Stanier’s hyperkinetic beating-on-empty-milk-cartons drum sound now resound with more authority. And the band has also brought a new guy into the fold.

Rhythm guitarist Chris Traynor (ex-Orange 9mm) joined Helmet late last year after the band had already wrapped up production on aftertaste. Traynor comes with the knowledge that the rhythm guitarist post in Helmet is the equivalent of a revolving door. Original rhythm player and Helmet co-founder Peter Mengede left acrimoniously in 1993 (leaving behind a lawsuit and some nasty faxes), going on to form Handsome with Quicksand alumnus Tom Capone. Helmet brought in Rob Echeverria to record 1994’s Betty, but he left in 1996, under friendlier auspices, to join Biohazard. The challenge for the 23-year-old Traynor, in addition to being younger than the rest of the band, has been in proving his worth. Traynor co-founded Orange 9mm and was its chief songwriter. But because he joined Helmet after the album was recorded, he has yet to contribute creatively.

“It was bad for my ego at first,” he said. “I’m [now] in this band that’s really big and I have nothing to do with it. People just think [I'm] a hired gun.”

Orange 9mm’s reputation was built largely on its visceral live shows, but Traynor says that joining Helmet has allowed him to be himself. “[With Orange 9mm] it was more physically rock and roll than Helmet is,” he said. “If we weren’t doing flips and smashing shit, sometimes we thought it wasn’t a great show. With Helmet, it’s about the music.”

Helmet’s place in the lexicon of rock has often been dubious despite having been at it for eight years, they still suffer from chronic under-exposure. Which all rings quite ironic, considering that the band was touted by many record labels in 1992 as the next Nirvana. A damning burden if ever there was one, Interscope Records anxiously picked up Helmet in ‘92 for a reported $1.2 million. For the record company, the ensuing chronology was far from the fulfilment of latching onto another Nirvana. The 1992 release Meantime, though pure Helmet (albeit with better production values), didn’t reach the stratosphere like Nevermind. And 1994’s Betty, a slightly experimental venture unduly maligned by critics, was somewhat disappointing in terms of sales. The resulting cult-status suited the band just fine. Gone was the push to become huge, and the emphasis became just plying their trade.

Traynor, long a Helmet fan, points out that the band “started out when cock-rock was big, went through the grunge thing, the punk-revival thing and is now going into the techno/industrial/dreadlock era. [Helmet] is something that’s not changing in a world that is ever-changing.”

And there’s a certain coolness in Helmet’s single-mindedness purpose. Just ask Silverchair.

“There’s no bullshit, there’s no trickery. It’s based on the performance and the musicianship,” said Traynor of Helmet’s ethos. “It’s true to what it is, it’s not changing in terms of fashion.”

This may suggest that promoters have been exercising a healthy sense of humour about choosing Helmet’s recent gigs. Right now, they are alternately supporting Marilyn Manson and Korn, bands who foster an image that goes beyond the music. Without chastizing them, Traynor says that bands like Marilyn Manson and Korn are almost a ’subculture.’ Opening for them, he says, has been enlightening.

“[Marilyn Manson's] audience is definitely their own. Their audience are freaks. I think it’s cool. It’s a little weird, those people look at us and think that we’re the jocks that picked on them in high school,” he said.

But he says he’s up to the test. “I think it’s cool to play in front of people who don’t know who you are or who are maybe a little aggressive towards you. It’s a challenge to win them over.”

Traynor says that despite the rigors of touring the members of Helmet remain ‘working-class’ and demur any rock-star inclinations. “The rock-star lifestyle for Helmet? I don’t think it works.”

It may also be Hamilton’s unabashed love of jazz and his varied side projects that undermine a traditional rock-star image. He played on popster Joe Henry’s last album, Zulutime, an avant-garde album with German noisemaker Caspar Brotzmann, and lent his musical chops to the soundtrack to the film Heat. In terms of outlook, Hamilton’s image is not unlike Billy Corgan’s. His narrow praise of other rock bands and confidence in his own band have often been misconstrued as arrogance. The reality, says Traynor, is that Hamilton is mindful of the band’s standing and focused on its direction.

Some people talk to Page and think he’s got this huge ego, think he thinks he’s so educated and lofty. [But] he just really believes in what he’s doing. Maybe sometimes he believes in it to a fault,” says Traynor. “I just hope that one day I’ll have as much integrity to do that.”