In all honesty; I have less than slight insight into whether it's true or not that these days, the probability of you and your band getting to clot your swirly signatures on a three-year deal (who spells out sex, drugs and rock'n roll less than five minutes from that precise moment) if you're garnered with Yankee hats, washed-asunder linen shirts and more piercings than your grandmother could look at without suffering a three-way stroke is higher, than it was for the glam band in the 80's. Maybe that's the case. Maybe it isn't.
(What metalcore looks like now a days)
Fact remains, though;
Of COURSE I'm talking about CORE, the biggest trend in modern metal. (For it does fulfill the three rules defining it's a trend or not; 1. It's everywhere, 2. It's everywhere, 3. IT'S EVERYWHERE) It's not that hard to draw a line between major contracts of the type you hardly see anymore and the four suburban dudes playing hardcore-screamo-beatdown-dubstep-metal.
In all fairness, such music can prove to be quite the deal.
But, what's Deathember's spot in all of this?
Nowhere, and it's never been, at least not for the last 20 or so months.
But if it's not our spot, then where is it?
For someday, one must come to realize that music is not only music. It's life, and all it capsules into it's little, cartoon-ish shell - it's how you live, where you live (partly) how you choose to act in certain situations, what you like and don't like, what you value, how you dress.
Such blesses the world of core - It's the message, the philosophy, the scene, the clothes, the friends, it's the "HxC", it's veganism or whatever.
There's a sense of togetherness in that scene that is massive, yet scarcerely rare. A sense of togetherness, of recognition and belonging.
And yes, from that perspetive, Deathember can attest to some as the dullest band in the world. There is no scene in Deathember. We follow no trends.
We wear jeans, a shirt and shoes. We go to work. Only inept SYL consumption and an eager desire to groove every other Tuesday makes us non-collar.
We have nothing to say with our music. We just love metal, groove and to make ear-ripping music.
And to what end?
Sometimes I giggle at the thought that if we only had stretched ears, Yankeee hats and perhaps a singer with little different screaming technique, we would've punched shits out of the 100 people who two years ago wouldn't run a muscle to our set, spite that we still had the breakdown-run going, yet would run forth and headbang to the next band, who happened to be just like us, except, well, stretched ears, Yankeee hats and perhaps a singer with little different screaming technique.
(The genereic -core fashion)
Because to a number much larger than any of us musical nerds or semi-nerds would admit, it's not just music. It's that sense of togetherness, of recognition and belonging. That's what the kids are after. That is what sells.
But there is another aspect to consider here; time.
Two words - or one, depending how you count;
For however vast - from Coachella down to the last closing forever-threatened freetime yard in Årstaberg - the core scene might stretch, will it always be like that? Or will it fade, making room for new generations, breeding new ways to express themselves, tailed with clothing styles, ethics and - music?
And what happens, then, to those of us who abhors all trends?
Remaining, as the lone boat house stock in a stormbred ocean. For there is no more - or very little - nu-metal nowadays. Metal - "standard" metal if you will - however, is as vivid as ever, and soon turning 44. Someone told me that the music of Deathember is 'timeless'. That a song like Unending Thirst would breed moshpits just as well on a wayward Californian barn next to Anthrax in 1984 as on 2030's Download Festival XXVVII, long since the last screams of Asking Alexandria have rung across the world for the very last time.
It was a nice thing to hear.