Taipei Metal

Interview - Dragonforce

This article also appears in the May Issue of Music In Magazine. For more news and features on the music scene in Taiwan and abroad, pick up a copy today.

In the interest of full disclosure, let me say this right off the bat: I don’t like power metal. There, I said it. A huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. What can I say? It’s not that I hate it. I can definitely respect it, as I’m not one to put down one form of musical expression in favor of another, and I’ll never dismiss any form of musical expression as being invalid. Such arguments are useless and do nothing to further the noble cause of metal. However musicians choose to express themselves is completely up to them, and far be it from any one person  to criticize them for what is a highly personal choice. But power metal just isn’t my thing. As I sit down to write this, I would like nothing more than to pretend that I live, breathe and dream power metal, and bow down at the altar of  bands such as Helloween, Edguy and Gamma Ray. But I just can’t do it. I might be able to lie about a lot of things, and I may even enjoy it, but musical taste just isn’t one of them.

So, if I’m going to start off on this inauspicious note, I’d better back up my opening statement. Why don’t I like power metal? Though I may be alienating myself from many a reader, here goes nothing. I find the typical over-the-top vocal delivery and cheery, saccharine upbeat guitar riffs painfully cheesy. Beats that audibly resemble the galloping of a thoroughbred nag conjure up images in my mind of the final stretch at the Kentucky Derby, not god-like heavy metal status. Extended guitar solos—ostentatious. And the subject matter? When did singing about Dungeons and Dragons become masculine and cool? With all due respect to Manowar, it’s not. Does it have camp value? Sure, why not. Is it good for a drunken laugh from time to time? Absolutely. But cool? Hardly. Not that metal has ever been about being cool, whatever that tired and ambiguous term even means today, but come on.

 

And yet, with all this disdain for power metal, let me say this as well: I was utterly blown away by Dragonforce’s set in Taipei on April 9th, 2009. And the reason for this is simple: Though many have pigeonholed Dragonforce as such, and even Dragonforce keyboardist Vadim Pruzhanov himself uses the term to describe the band, perhaps if only for convenience's sake, they are not a power metal band. Ask Dragonforce guitarist and resident taskmaster Herman Li and he’ll tell you the same. The band may have begun its life as a power metal outfit, and they may still bear some of the earmarks of power metal today; the vocal delivery, the solos and so on. And though some people might hear tales of fantasy and folklore in the lyrics of Dragonforce songs, which seems to be the archetypal and inexhaustible source of subject matter for so many of the power metal bands out there, Li insists those people are missing the point. Dragonforce has outgrown power metal, and have gone on to something beyond.

So if they’re not a power metal band what are they? To answer this question we may have to add another  term to the  ever-growing metal lexicon to describe them. In the early eighties we had the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, so could Dragonforce be ushering in the New Wave of British Power Metal? That remains to be seen, as no other power metal bands  have been able to, or even attempted, to catch up with Dragonforce. After all, they play metal at a break-neck pace that is beyond the reach of many of those they have been lumped in with in the power metal genre. They’ve evolved beyond power metal and left it behind completely. Listen to Dragonforce’s Inhuman Rampage or their latest disc, Ultra Beatdown, and then put on something by Hammerfall or Dream Evil. Can you honestly say they should be classified in the same genre? I don’t think so. At least for the time being, Dragonforce is in a class all its own.

Dragonforce’s combination of virtuoso musicality and pure, unadulterated and unabashed showmanship puts them light years ahead of any band I have ever witnessed live. With the complex nature of their songs, the uninitiated might assume that they just stand still, their eyes glued intently on their fret boards and keys respectively, and flawlessly hammer out their tunes with little flair or flamboyance. Such a sentiment could not be further off the mark.

For one person to adequately keep track of all that happens on stage during a Dragonforce show, one would need about six sets of eyes—one for each member of the band. The only person who is stationary during the entire set is drummer Dave Mackintosh, and that’s purely by necessity. I’m sure if they could find a way for him to be mobile, they would do it. The rest of the band, vocalist Z.P. Theart, guitarists Li and Sam Totman, keyboardist  Pruzhanov and bassist Frederic Leclercq run a veritable marathon about the stage.

Any split-second break in the music is punctuated by a synchronized mid-air 360 degree spin by Li and Totman. They even take mid-solo straw sips from the beers in the cup holders attached to their microphone stands. During the rare melancholy moments in certain songs, Totman comically pretends to wipe away tears or take a razor blade to his wrists. The guitarists treat the show for what it is and for what every metal show ideally should be—a celebration of the moment; the here and now.

I defy even the most jaded, been-there-seen-that-and-bought-the-back-patch metal head to go to Dragonforce show and not crack a smile at the onstage antics of the Dragonforce crew. Their enthusiastic frat boy stage presence is infectious, invading the glands of everyone in attendance. These guys really know how to hook someone in, damn them, even an unnamed, supposedly aloof journalist with a professed dislike for power metal standing at the back of the crowd.

During the show, eyes shift back and forth as if they were watching a match at Wimbledon, trying to catch every over-the-top maneuver of the London sextet. Pruzhanov is constantly pumping his legs up and down like overworked pistons, while at the same time waving his left arm in a circular motion like a Dutch windmill on the fritz, and, oh yes, playing the keyboard with his right hand at the same time. At times, he even detaches his flamboyant pink and white keyboard, with what appear to be black sperm swimming up the side, from its stand to join Li and Totman at the front of the stage, where the three exchange million-mile-an-hour dueling leads and join together in playing complementary ones.

Meanwhile, Theart is perpetually catching water bottles thrown from the side of the stage by one of the roadies like an NFL wide receiver, and finding increasingly innovative ways to douse the crowd. During the course of the show he must have gone through an entire case. At one point, while Li and Totman are in the midst of one of their trademark 200-bar solos, with each feigning a yawn or making the “jack off” motion when the other took their turn, Theart waves and calls enthusiastically for those in the upper balcony to come down to the lower level. However, having paid a lower price for those seats, the obedient Taiwanese fans are reluctant to comply. So what does Theart do? He takes the opportunity during the break from his vocal duties to run up to the balcony, throw open the door, and personally lead over 100 fans down the stairs to the lower level in front of the stage. That, my friends, is true showmanship, above and beyond merely getting the crowd to sing along or clap their hands to beat.

During the ritual mid-show keyboard solo, Pruzhanov is joined not by Li or Totman, but by bassist Leclercq, sporting not his bass, but one of Li’s guitars. For most of the show, Leclercq plays the understated straight man in Li, Totman, Pruzhanov and Theart’s routine, occasionally pulling the odd goofy face in the midst of his humorously exaggerated metal stare, in marked contrast to the other three’s near constant shtick, but this is his turn to finally take center stage. Leclercq, also an accomplished guitar player, holds is own in exchanging ripping leads with the youthful and exhaustingly exuberant keyboardist. And to pay tribute to this tour's mustache-growing competition held between Pruzhanov, Totman and Theart (who apparently has taken the early, and perhaps insurmountable lead), Pruzhanov even triggers a Super Mario sample. It was only then that perhaps the Mario plush toy taped to the bass drum made sense to the crowd.

Dragonforce are a throwback to the bygone age of musical and performance excess with a modern twist. Yes, they are over-the-top, but not in a self-serving or narcissistic way. They don’t play extended solos or lightning fast riffs just because they can, to force people to pay attention to and adulate them, or to make guitar geeks wet their pants. They celebrate metal, and pour buckets of sweat and passion upon the stage, and the audience. They don’t want the crowd to worship their superior musical ability; they simply want them to have a good time. And you can bet your ass the Dragonforce boys will have a good time. Every show is a party, a chance to let loose, leave it all on the stage, and walk away with the wonderfully spent feeling that can only be gained by knowing that they gave absolutely everything they had to give.
The night before the mayhem began anew in Taipei Li and Pruzhanov, the latter of which was sporting a newfound fascination with his burgeoning, if a tad sparse, crop of upper lip hair, spent some time talking to Music In. 

Music In: How did you feel about being nominated for a Grammy in February for “Heroes of Our Time”?

Vadim Pruzhanov: It's pretty good. We're really proud of it. We're the first power metal band being nominated so we're really happy.

Herman Li: (to Vadim)I like the grin on your face when you say that.

VP: It's the 'tache man. It's a surprise, and it's a pleasant surprise. You don't expect it.

MI: Judging from past interviews and videos of you guys, you seem like a band that likes to keep the party going. Is that still true today? How about the mustache contest?

HL: (rolling his eyes) Yeah that's the new job which is really funny obviously.

VP: It is hilarious. That's the thing that's pulling the crowd. It's true. The mustache made the band really huge. Anyway, you've got to keep yourself entertained.

MI: (to Herman) You're not getting in on the 'stache game?

HL: No, I don't want to look stupid like them. But we still have a laugh and we still have fun on tour.

MI: What's your best party story from the road?

VP: There was one we were going to use but...

HL: I don't know, there's too much censorship going down in the media from the management, what we're allowed to say...

VP: So we're a completely boring band.

HL: (to Vadim) Can you think of anything funny to say?

VP: There's nothing amazing that we do that other bands don't do.  We're pretty dull, other than the 'stache thing. That's pretty cool. Everyone parties, gets drunk and gets laid.

HL: You do?

VP: Well, not anymore. Yeah they're all cued up.

MI: Same old, same old then.

HL: Same old, same old yeah he doesn't believe any of that shit!

MI: You've said in the past that you really hate the recording process. Why is this?


HL: Well it’s hard work. I mean it’s cool when you’re finished the album, it’s great, but when you wake up at ten in the morning and you finish at 2 a.m. it’s not really a winner, is it? You have to work hard to make an album. We don’t hate it as much as people think it’s just we’d rather be on tour. To get that kind of energy to create an album and be under the pressure when you need to deliver the album is really horrible.

MI: You guys pride yourselves on your high energy live shows, so what do you think the best part of your live show is and what sets you apart from other bands?

VP: Well the best part of the live show is pretty much when we come out on stage and play our instruments. Also you have to see how bushy the ‘tache is and how amazing it is. It makes people go, “Oh my god this is so awesome,” and they just forget about the music. I think it’s just the whole show, which is connected to the crowds. It’s energetic. It’s not like you see Dragonforce and we’re standing there trying to act really cool. We just have a laugh and be ourselves. We don’t stand there and just look at the guitars. That would be totally boring to watch.

MI: Even though you don’t enjoy the recording process, you have produced and mixed every album on your own.

HL: With Karl Groom, who’s been working with us since the demo. So now you know why we don’t like it. We’ve got to do that much work. We have to record, produce, power the mix all the way to the mastering. Pretty much we don’t leave the album until it’s on the CD.

MI: So why not get somebody else to handle all that stuff?

HL: Because no one can do it better than us! That’s what we think anyway. No one is going to put as much work as we do into our songs.

VP: If you get someone to do it you’ll always find some things that you can improve, and if the other person doesn’t do it you’ll end up blaming them or yourself or something. We’re always perfectionists; trying to get things as perfect as they can be.

HL: We just feel like getting a producer will actually try to make us finish quicker but not really make things better. They just say, “That will do. That’s good enough.” You know yourself if you’ve played good enough. You’re your best critic.

MI: How do you guys feel about being featured in the Guitar Hero games?

HL: That answer, you can Google that one. It’s on every single interview. (to Vadim) How does it feel to be on Guitar Hero? Have you ever played the game yourself? It’s cool. It obviously put the music among other people who would probably never hear Dragonforce.

MI: You guys are also known for switching up the keyboard solo from tour to tour. Is this to keep things interesting for the fans, or to keep things from getting too repetitive for yourselves?

VP: We do try to give something new to the fans.

HL: Basically we think drum solos are really boring and we don’t want to put the audience through that pain. Because everyone goes to the bar anyway during the drum solo, the ones who can drink. The ones that can drink definitely go to the bar. The keyboard solo is full of melodies…

VP: And you can see the ‘tache flowing.

MI: This whole interview is going to be about the mustache isn’t it.

HL: Yeah he’s obsessed about it. Don’t worry, next week he’ll be bored with it.

VP: It’ll be bigger. I won’t get bored with it. I’ll die it pink. I want to be the Dimebag Darrell of keyboards.

MI: At times people have pigeonholed you guys as being so-called “happy power metal.” What is your reaction to that?

HL: There are lots of people that absolutely hate us and there’s lots of people that love us so it doesn’t really matter what these people say. We’ve been pigeonholed into all kinds of things. We’ve been pigeonholed as all our songs sound the same, to we’re crap, shit. There’s so many people in the world; lot’s of people don’t care either. So it doesn’t really matter.

VP: Any opinion is a good opinion.

HL: We love the haters. The haters help spread the word of the band. If no one talks about you then…

MI: So even if they’re saying Dragonforce sucks then…

HL: Yeah they do say that anyway. Loads of people say that.

MI: You guys have kind of brought power metal back. Do you see yourselves as the flag bearers of the new epic power metal movement?

HL: Well I don’t think we really brought it back. I don’t think we play like the other power metal bands anyway. We either have evolved through the albums and don’t play power metal anymore or I think we’ve taken the power metal style to a different level. If you put Ultra Beatdown next to any of the other power metal albums out there it’s pretty much night and day. I don’t see ourselves as just another power metal band. I can’t say we really brought it back. I mean there aren’t any other bands that are really that big in the genre at the moment. (to Vadim) Do you agree?

VP: Yeah pretty much. They’ll hate us for saying that but…

MI: You spent seven months in the studio for Ultra Beatdown. Do you think the next one will take as long?

VP: Hopefully not. Hopefully it will take like a month to do it.

HL: I think it will take longer. We’ve been thinking about recording the next album but we’re not going to talk about it yet. We’ll leave that for a year’s time when we do it.

MI: So the next album won’t be for another year?

HL: Yeah we’ll still be touring for this album this whole year.

MI: Your singer once said, “I honestly don’t give a shit about the guitars.” Being such a guitar-driven band, how do the guitar players in the band feel about that comment?

HL: Well he doesn’t play the guitar, of course he doesn’t. We produced the album so Sam and I pretty much sit there since the beginning to the end so we care about every single instrument. Since he’s not part of the production team he only really looks at his voice. But that’s a good thing. You can’t have everyone dealing with it. You can’t have too many cooks in the kitchen. It’s good that he doesn’t care. Vadim deals with all of the keyboards, that keeps him busy all the time.
VP: We’re trying to get everyone to be happy. We do all of the parts and get everyone to listen to it and discuss things and see how things develop. Obviously there’s always conflict of opinions and there’s always going to be people that disagree on certain things.

MI: Do you guys share the songwriting duties or is there one person who does the bulk of the writing?

HL: Sam writes a lot of the songs, (to Vadim) you do.

VP: Pretty much Sam and me did the majority of the songwriting on Ultra Beatdown. Herman did one song. If I do a song I do everything; drums, programming, melodies and everything at my house. Sam does the same thing. Then we’ll get together and we’ll try to improve them.

MI: What about the lyrics. You have said before that you try to hide the meaning of your lyrics.

HL: Well we don’t really hide it. We write it in a way that it’s not obvious what it’s about. It’s not, “I go there, you go there, I do this, that happens.” That’s pretty crap to write like that I think. Some bands, the way they write lyrics, they don’t even fit the song, the melodies. You know the words fit the song, the melodies, by listening. If the pronunciations don’t even fit the notes it’s just forcing lyrics in. You’ve got to find the right words for the right time and the right length. You look at Dragonforce lyrics and go, “It’s really easy to write.” But trust me, it’s not as easy. If you’re going to find the perfect words to sing then it doesn’t sound like that much work when you sing it.

MI: And the lyrics are the last thing that is done. You try to make the lyrics fit the melodies.

HL: Yeah, you can’t really write a bunch of lyrics and then write the melodies in.

MI: Who writes the lyrics?
HL: I wrote a few, Sam, ZP wrote some.

MI: And what sorts of subjects do you gravitate towards?

HL: Whatever is happening around the world; what’s around us. I know people still want to think it’s Dungeons and Dragons, and if they see Dungeons and Dragons a bit that’s fine because I think different people can relate to it differently. It’s our fault we picked a band that’s called Dragon-something. You can’t blame them.

MI: I’ll ask one more time about plans for your next album.

HL: Well we obviously plan to have another album. That’s a stupid answer but…every day on tour you learn something about how you’re going to do the next album, even if you don’t write any songs. Even if you’re just sitting there thinking about how you record. Making an album is so much more than just writing a song. You need to understand how to record, at what time, how, when, what to put one after the other. It’s something you can learn on tour, playing as a band.

MI: Do you write at all on the road?

VP: No, it’s really hard to. It’s so much chaos going on. You always have press and meet-and-greets and all these signings sessions. You never have time to concentrate unless you have five minutes in the afternoon to write.

HL: So he spends his time on tour sitting on the Internet, he’s on Myspace, and me thinking about the production of the live show. 

VP: I don’t just sit on Myspace.

MI: He grows his mustache.

VP: Yeah! That takes most of my day.

HL: There’s so much to think about in the production of the live show that you can still improve as the tour goes on.

MI: So you’re always looking to improve the live show in some capacity.

HL: Yeah, you’ll look at the lights and go, “Oh I don’t like that.”

MI: So are you constantly picking apart the live show and looking at what could be done differently?

HL: Yeah, it’s a different art to a live show itself, to learn how to play and how to produce a live show. I even tried to learn how to do monitors, do the front of house and look at how those work. Those are the things to learn instead of sitting there doing nothing.

MI: So you’re involved in everything from the lighting to the P.A. system.

HL: Well, little bits. The lights show, we definitely have to be involved in that because it affects your playing. You can run around as much as you want but if you’re in darkness it’s kind of a losing game. If you’ve got loads of lights at the back you don’t even see the band, just a silhouette, that’s’ a losing game too.

VP: Or sometimes lighting engineers like to use a lot of strobe. They’re trying to be really evil. And you’re like, (shielding eyes) whoa, strobe dude. It’s sick. It hurts your eyes and you can’t really concentrate on what you’re doing.

HL: So we’re actually nerdy; nerdier than you think.

VP: Get the spotlight onto the mustache. As long as you’ve got that right it doesn’t matter about the rest.