…And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

• 21st Mar 2007

You know, it wasn’t quite what she was expecting. Look at the name for chrissakes. There was as much hype and excitement because the posters in the venue said GWAR were coming to town next month. So with that in mind and you are going to see a band called …trail of dead, maybe you can be forgiven for expecting a filthy monster of a metal band decapitating stage props and performing caesarian sections on stage instead of some indie-noise band, bordering on prog. Try not to be disappointed they don’t have more songs about massacres and battlefield aftermaths. After all, how do you know they don’t?

What do I know about Trail of Dead? How much can anyone know about the mystical American rock band never fully submerged, crossed over nor sold out? How deep can you go without heading straight to the source and the creative core, without talking to Conrad Keely?

I know their latest album So Divided has a few amazing tracks on there. I surmise from meeting them, Kevin is a sensitive smoking ‘type’, his favourite colour is Lavender and he plays bass. And I know Jason is a violent man with a soft heart and his favourite colour is green. And it would appear they both suffer from tour fatigue, mental sickness, depression and inflated egos.

Whatever the epic title conjures up in the imagination about Trail of Dead,
no one needs to hear them called ‘Emo’s’ now. We will forgive her and hope GWAR are all that. What do you expect though from a band that have come from the pits of grunge, through the belly of the ‘post’ beast and emerged out the other side, just alternative? They have seen it all and been called every darned name under the sun. More important than pigeonholing them, is the fact they are here at all, still intact, mentally stronger and definitely a few screws looser.

Ever since 1998’s eponymous debut album, the road has been rocky for …Trail of Dead and when I sit down with Jason and Kevin from the band tonight I can see just why despite a level of commercial success and influence on their surrounding peers they have never quite risen to the heights of some of their followers. It’s because they are c***s.

The air in the old Lomax is sweet with typical tour vibes tonight. Stress is never far away and time is tight, despite living the apparent life of luxury, rockstars are never satisfied, because hotel check-ins get delayed and they have to soundcheck, for pity’s sake! The main room of the venue is reserved for The Wombats. A band that have done great things, crossed many continents but influenced no one and sold nowhere near as many records as those they usurp tonight, but The Wombats are in their home town, playing to their largest local crowd yet and about to break big across the UK, so good for them. …Trail of Dead don’t get bitter, they’re used to it by now.

Or so you would have thought!

More a band of people who dislike things rather than like things. Angry, perturbed, fucking outraged to the point of incensed. We speak mainly of Jason as Kevin is very polite and quiet and Conrad maintains the image of the troubled artist, selling his paintings from the merch counter.

Jason states that his band are ‘Anti-Simpsons’. Curious, I listen and allow him to continue. Wondering could it be they are ashamed of their heritage and the stereotypical portrayal of their nations people as dumb, four fingered, yellow skinned idiots? Nope. Is it that the visage of Americana is skewed across the planet by a cartoon? Nope. They are just plain pissed with Groening that he never invited them back to play at All Tomorrows Parties. But that’s four years ago and …Trail of Dead are far more suited to associations with the Chapman brothers.

Bringing us on nicely to the topic brazenly titled: Trail of Dead and ‘Scat’ porn. Put this naïve woolyback in a room with battle scarred rockers and whaddaya expect they’ll say? Well anything that comes out regardless who it offends. It’s a tragic case of verbal diarrhea when I meet Jason Reese and Kevin Allen. Even now it stresses me out listening back to it. “It wasn’t me it was Elmo. Blame Elmo. Elmo takes the blame for shitting on stage.” Jason takes the blame for splintering the guitar across the barrier. The stage isn’t high enough to see from the crowd when Conrad dives on the floor or when Jason squats and relieves his bowels partly soiling a monitor speaker, excrement dripping from his pants. Blame Elmo.

The search for good music continues at least with Jason, fretting at the oversaturated music scene of terrible bands. He suggests looking into the “roots of rock” for answers. Leave no stone unturned is his message to the kids of 2007. He believes decent bands are few and far between. He does confess to liking NYC’s TV on the Radio (Return to Cookie Mountain) and Mastodon’s colossal album Blood Mountain. Kevin prefers to keep it underground and cites side-spoof-project Megalomaniac Czar as the future of Grindcore. The claim Megalomaniac Czar do indeed have a track called Bukakke Ninja cannot be verified as later research into the band reveal three plays on myspace of the worst abomination of music ever recorded. But the ethos of the beast is pure and innocent in that we must do our historical research or the band will fuck you off with their lack of respect as if you were the NME and forget that we are in fact the enemy.

Recording new album ‘So Divided’ for the band was a chance to let go from ideas of “changing the world” and just make a “really good album to be proud of”, with no big motives, just what they perceive as a gradual improvement. The drives and desires are not to please anyone anymore but just to better themselves. Apparently oblivious to any adverse reactions previous albums may have induced amongst critics. Well, ignorance is bliss.

I‘m a person who likes to see a good local act supporting the touring band, giving them a chance to pit their wits and talents on the same stage as their heroes doesn’t come along very often. Or maybe I’m a person who doesn’t care about any of that and just likes a good show. Either way Forget Cassettes fulfill neither of these criteria. Droll and ever lasting, high hopes and tracks heard previously are recreated with the energy and magnetism of Sinead O’Connor. Trail of Dead and Forget Cassettes share a band member in Doni Schroeder, (drums and keys) but it is the only thing the groups have in common. They all play together on each others sets but only when Trail of Dead bring out Beth Cameron to sing on ‘Wasted State of Mind’ is it worth them travelling. The vibe is kinda kooky and clicky but the atmosphere is good amongst them all.

‘Mistakes and Regrets’ it seems only gets played because there is time for two more songs before curfew. When it does it draws the best response from the crowd, to think tonight’s set may have not included the song which brought Trail of Dead to the forefront of the alt music scene. But they have numerous great songs and almost as many guitars to choose from. With or without choice track selection everyone leaves immensely satisfied by the performance.

Apparently banned from European festivals for outspoken remarks I have not been disappointed with my share of Reese bullshit/bashing and feel stronger for it. I see later at least one Conrad Keely original sold. A pencil drawn laminated dragon being admired by a group of fans. Unfortunately there are no bootleg merch vendors in the rain outside and we regret not paying full price indoors for our hoodies as we head for the pub to trade stories.