Every once in a while, you come across someone so fantastic, who shines so bright in the landscape of your life, that it becomes

Therese Lanz

hard to picture the way things were without them. For me, Thérèse Lanz is one of those people. As the vocalist, lyricist and guitarist in the noise-doom duo Mares of Thrace, she writes and performs achingly ugly music that twists in the brain and writhes in the heart. She’s also whip-smart, deeply compassionate and hysterically funny. Not a day goes by that I don’t learn something from her, whether from chatting or just looking at her social media feeds.  Thérèse is a talented musician in a way that few people are: her instrument has become an extension of her body, and the music she writes becomes a form of expression when language fails. Also devoted to gamer culture, for video and table top, Thérèse will soon be studying video game development as well. With a hungry mind and a sense of adventure behind the writing, it’s no wonder that the latest Mares of Thrace album draws upon influences as disparate as Geoffrey Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and the Mass Effect Universe. Since I started this column, I have wanted to talk to Thérèse, and I am thrilled that she took the time out of her absurd touring schedule to talk to me.

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When and how did your love affair with metal begin? How did it flourish into an obsession, a career and a lifestyle?

My family was very much into classical music as I was growing up; I never had a cool older rock or metal mentor to hang out with me in a black-lit basement and play me Zeppelin LPs or anything like that. I started listening to grunge as a teenager in the ’90s because that’s what all the teenagers in the ’90s listened to. Then I started playing in a punk band because that’s what everyone around me wanted to play, but I zeroed in pretty quickly on the harsher, bleaker, more chaotic bands.

Then, one of the stoners in my high school art class put on Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath. It was like the Dark Lord himself emerged from the infernal depths and handed me a personal goat’s-blood-written invitation to join his unholy legion. I feel like heavy music chose me. As soon as I got into it, it was a veritable sonic slippery slope: suddenly nothing was ever heavy enough, evil enough, loud enough. Sabbath led to Slayer, which led to classic Swedish death metal, which led to all sorts of wacky doom, black and grind shit.

I wouldn’t call it a “career” because those usually make money, not cost tremendous amounts of money. [laughs]

The music you make occupies a very specific intersection between noise rock and doomy sludge. What is it about this specific overlap of subgenres that appeals to you so? How did you develop your specific aesthetic?

The pristine, baroque technical perfection of certain strains of metal doesn’t really appeal to me. I mean, I can obviously appreciate it when it’s well done, but it’s not what I enjoy making. I like the evil aesthetic of metal, but I also like the off-the-rails, dissonant chaos of noise rock, punk and hardcore. I admire music that breaks rules and conventions, not the kind that rigorously follows them to the letter.

You play a very unusual instrument, and approach guitar playing from a very individual angle. Can you tell us a bit about how and why you play the guitar the way you do, and what is it about your specific set-up that works so well for you and the music that you write?

There’s a concept in art theory called “process stylization,” in which the limitations of the medium lend an aesthetic stamp to the product produced with it, and not always in a negative way.  For instance, since Viking runes were generally scratched on wood and metal, they’re thin and angular because those are the easiest shapes to scratch on wood and metal. Writing as a two-piece is very process-stylized for me. I need to write exclusively riffs that work for us as a two-piece, and take up whatever audible space they need to take up. For example, I can’t really shred per se, since it sounds remarkably dumb when a guitarist is shredding with only half a rhythm section underneath. My custom bari, my amps and my various gadgets are tailored specifically to try and take up the space usually filled by another person. Over time, much like the Viking-rune-scratching, I’ve come to find the sparseness to be a flavour of its own, rather than a shortcoming.

As the primary lyricist for Mares of Thrace, you draw your inspiration from a wide range of sources. On The Pilgrimage, there’s the bible, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, and even Mass Effect. What other media inspires you? Do you often find musical and lyrical material from video games?

I’m a sucker for a good narrative. It doesn’t matter where it comes from: a piece of visual art, the life story of a real person I know, a video game, or a gruesome little piece of mythology like the Judeo-Christian bible. I find video games particularly compelling because I find them to be one of the richest media when it comes to sources of narrative of our time, and the ones I play are all masterworks of dark themes and ambient music. That having been said, I’m going to sound like the world’s biggest fuckin’ poindexter if I say our music is inspired in large part by video games. Okay, who am I kidding? I AM the world’s biggest fuckin’ poindexter.

You’ve told me that each of the songs on The Pilgrimage is named after its own little fucked up character. How did they take shape? Tell us about them, and the pilgrimage they are on.

Some of them are me, and aspects of my personality, particularly my less admirable traits. Some of them are based on people I meet. Some of them are people I read about. Who knows where they’re headed? I’m a die-hard atheist; I don’t believe in an overarching meaning, purpose or plan. All of us are on an essentially purposeless trajectory back to the compost from whence we arose. Hopefully we ate some delicious tacos, played some good riffs and enjoyed a couple good hugs in the meantime.

How does your love of video games and metal overlap? Metal is more often being featured on video game soundtracks, for instance. Are there other ways (world building, marginalization, etc.) that these two art forms are related, in your mind?

Funny thing about metal: It’s FULL of nerds. Everyone’s standing around in their black shirts and spiky-logo-patch covered denim vests trying to look surly and gr1m and tr00, but if I show up at a show and yell, “Hey, does anyone here still play 3.5 edition Dungeons and Dragons?” and brandish my bag of d20s, half the room’s faces light up like the neighbourhood kids at the sound of the ice cream truck.

Fantasy and metal have pretty much an indelible, inextricable joint history. I blame Dio.

As someone who has been entrenched in the metal community as a musician for many years, and is now entering the world of video game development as you go to study in Chicago, IL, you are a part of two extremely male-dominated fields. Do you find these environment equally challenging, or different from each other?

In both of these male-dominated fields, there are dudes who regard me as an equal, ain’t-no-thing, don’t see me or treat me as any different and respect me or loathe me based 100% on my abilities. In both, there are guys who are cheering me on, because they want ladies to succeed in these fields.

Then, in both fields, there are creeps who hit on… well, okay, in metal, they mostly hit on Stef, because she is sweet and approachable, whereas I am a mean, loudmouthed bitch with an attitude who scares away 99% of dudes. And in both, there are douchebags with pea-sized testes who do their best to harrass, intimidate, bully or condescend to any woman who dares to intrude on their precious little sausage party, solely because she is a woman.

Before you were in Mares of Thrace, you were in the band Kilbourne with your sister Francesca on bass, and Mares drummer Stef MacKichan. It seems that metal has always been a major part of two of your most significant relationships/friendships with other women. Would you say that music has become a cornerstone of many relationships for you?

Fuck yeah, it has. Here’s a funny thing about women: we are socialized to fucking hate each other, to loathe each other, to pretend we’re all friendly friendly, and air-kiss and go for pedicures and shit; then, to steal each other’s man and call each other fat behind each other’s backs. We are socialized to think we’re all in a vicious merciless catfight to the death, with the almighty, end-all-be-all prize at the very top of the podium: male attention.

You know what? Fuck that. The most bad-ass thing a woman can do, the most feminist thing a woman can do, the most important thing a woman can do in the struggle for equality, is support other women, and truly support them. Don’t judge them, don’t cut them down for how they look, how they dress or who they sleep with. Be a sister.

I’ve been blessed with an abundance of metal sisters, both the above two, and many others: colleagues in bands, promoters, journalists, photographers, fans. It’s Stef, my drummer, who truly called me on my own being-judgmental-of-other-girls bullshit and taught me to do this. I owe a lot to her. I have never met a more genuinely, compassionately pro-lady lady. She’s the greatest.

I am a member of the Polaris jury, and recently, on a panel (during which I presented The Pilgrimage as one of my top albums up for consideration) I was asked if I thought that Mares of Thrace would be getting the same kind of critical response and media attention if both members weren’t attractive women. I know what my answer is, but how do you answer this question when it comes up?

Why This Question Pisses Me Off: An Essay By Thérèse Lanz. Feel free to, if you are able, copy-paste this to whoever asked you the question.

Point 1. I am bitterly disappointed that this question would be asked by what is presumably a group of industry professionals. I would expect this calibre of prejudice from barely-literate forum trolls, not pros.  You see, this question hinges on the remarkably ignorant assumption that “pretty” “girls” are not capable of creating anything of worth in and of itself. This dovetails with the mentality that inspires stupid motherfuckers to refer to Stef’s and my band as relying on a “gimmick,” as though individuals who are demographically statistical outliers in their field are incapable of producing anything genuine, sincere and authentic. We did not choose to be born female. We did not choose to be born with the appearances we were born with. We did, however, choose to spend fifteen years and countless hours, dollars, blood, sweat, sawdust and road kilometres dedicated to our craft. To be trivialized because the former is evidently more salient a feature of our work than the latter — well, not to put too fine a point upon it, but I have procured a bushel of dicks for your enjoyment and I cordially invite you to eat them.

Point 2. The next ignorant assumption implicit in this question involves not us but the critics who like our music. It implies that they are naive rubes easily dazzled by cheap bells and whistles. We’ve received some high-fives from illustrious music journalists whose encyclopedic expertise in the genre verges on virtuosity. To say that they only like us because we’re “hawt chixxx” is a pot shot at their credibility.

Point 3. I dearly wish that whoever asked this question could see the other side of the coin: the side on which we’re written off and dismissed out of hand. The side that has people walk out of the club before I’ve even turned my amp on, because we’re women and they just assume we suck because of that. The side that contains people who make statements like, “dude, I’m just not into ‘chick bands’ ” (Come on! I highly doubt anyone could determine our gender from hearing our record). All that wonderful harassment, bullying and condescension I spoke of earlier. Seriously: people assume we suck because we’re women, and now some people are assuming we’re only achieving whatever success we have because we’re women? Why don’t you guys pay more attention to stuff like riffs? And beats? And yelling? Because that’s really all we pay attention to.

What advice would you give to a young musician who admires you and wants to emulate you? What do you hope to pass on to your young musical apprentices out in the world?

1) Wear earplugs. Sure, it doesn’t seem bad-ass, but neither do hearing aids.

2) Always carry fuses, bandaids, duct tape and Excedrin.

3) Pay it forward — always, always pay it forward. Give your pay from the show to the touring band, lend someone your guitar when they break theirs, be generous with your contacts.

3) Know what it is you want and find bandmates who want the same thing.

4) Don’t expect anyone to care more than you about your own band. Learn to run your own business shit, put out your own records, do your own accounting, book your own tours. Achieve the most you can yourself before you even dream of hiring someone else. Seriously, I see way too many great bands fall by the wayside because they’re disempowered goofy drunks who couldn’t coordinate their way out of a paper bag.

5) If you see someone who looks like they have shit figured out, ask for advice.

6) Don’t be a dick. I mentioned that, right?

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Thérèse Lanz is a riffmaker, pixel slinger and 12 sided dice roller.

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Tell us about your role in the heavy metal community. What kind of work do you do?

I write live show reviews and interviews for a number of online and printed media all around the world. My work has been published by BW & BK (Canada), HornsUpRocks (NYC), John Doe Revolution,  Dome.fi (Finland), Darkside.ru, Rock Oracle, 1Rock, Rovesnik (Russia) and Norway Rock Magazine. I also run my own website with two lovely photographers, although lately my activity has been a bit on the low side there due to personal commitments. I also diminished my presence online a bit recently, as I do most of the work now for one of the Russian magazines and they have very strict rules about posting English versions of their interviews online, unfortunately. I was able to work on some amazing stuff and it sucks that the rest of the world can’t see it.

For my Bachelor’s thesis, I concentrated on heavy metal festivals and big arena shows, for which I did a collaboration with Live Nation Finland. That was an amazing experience.

How did your love affair with heavy metal begin? How did you become introduced to the genre, and how did it become an obsession?

I was about fifteen years old and I was hanging out with a bunch of people who introduced me to punk rock. I’d wear ripped jeans with pins sticking out  everywhere and a huge anarchy sign pendant. I thought I was as punk as it gets. Through those friends I also met people who were into heavier stuff, and decided I should explore some new horizons too. I still remember the first metal bands that I listened to: Nightwish and Dimmu Borgir. I was sold, completely.  I remember at the time checking out some bands and thinking that their music was a bit too much for me; these are bands that I now love and admire.

One’s music taste always has to evolve. This music, this community and this lifestyle — it took me like a whirlwind.  Now it is a heavy addiction. One of the things that attracted me the most to heavy metal was how general society tends to frown upon metal and everything related to it. It also helped that my father is a (moderate) fan of heavy music and he supported my love for the music when I was underage, even though he didn’t always like it. I mean, not every parent would drive 1000 kilometres only to see AC/DC play “Thunderstruck” or argue with their kid over who gets to have the new Marilyn Manson CD. So, it’s kind of a family thing as well.

At what point did you decide that you needed to become more active in metal than the level of involvement exhibited by the average metal fan (which is a lot)?

I never planned this for myself. At one of the shows I attended, I met a photographer, who has been working in the music media for a few years already. We became friends and she suggested that I try writing about music, specifically live show reviews. She read some of the blog posts I’s written about the shows I’d seen, and she said she liked them. The rest is history. It’s been 4 years now and I have seen so much. I’ve learned a great deal about writing and about the music business. At the same time, there’s still a long way to go. There are writers I strongly admire, like Dom Lawson or Joel McIver, and whenever I read their work, it makes me realize I have a long way to improve. Perfection possesses no limits.

What is it about heavy metal that draws, affects and inspires you?

As I mentioned earlier, it’s the enormous middle finger in the face of society. It resonates with me on a personal level. Heavy metal also possesses this magical, ineffable feeling, something that occurs at any live show, when the whole crowd throws horns in the air together and sings along. It still gives me goosebumps every time! It’s the rush you get from blasting this music whenever you’re sad, angry or happy. Complete love is definitely the mindset that one has to have in order to appreciate metal. The weak shall not pass!

Also, there is no other music genre that will give you the feeling you get when you visit a place with a rich metal history. It’s like when you’re at some historical battlefield and you can clearly picture what happened there. For example, when you come to Norway, you don’t even have to be into black metal, but you will literally feel it seeping through your skin. It’s in the atmosphere; it makes you understand why this type of music was nurtured exactly in this place.

And, of course, it’s all the amazing people that you get to meet because you share the same passion.

Do you think that there is a specific way that “heavy metal girls” are supposed to look? Do you think you follow or reject that expectation?

I could rant about this forever! I’ve heard fans who say that if you’re not wearing a band’s t-shirt to their show, then you’re not a fan, which is ridiculous. Even though I’m into metal, I am still a woman and I like to look nice. Unfortunately, men tend to think that there is only one reason a woman would dress nicely: to attract their attention. There is some truth to that as well, but it’s not universal, and I was often left amused by this assumption.

There is nothing wrong with sporting a band t-shirt and jeans, but I rarely wear those to shows. Metal is about standing out from the crowd, not blending in with everyone. Sometimes I wear something just to get into people’s faces, like a t-shirt with words that might cause a reaction. For instance, as a joke aimed at a certain narrow-minded person, my friend and I had t-shirts made that say “Fucking Groupie.” The reaction it got from people was awesome.

Nobody can tell you what to wear or how to look. What the hell, metal is about breaking the rules and shattering stereotypes imposed by the general society. Whatever you wear, there will always be someone who will like you and someone who will hate you. If you want to wear t-shirt and jeans, go for it. If you prefer to wear a nice dress, why not? If you want to break out the fishnets and some goth attire, then whatever rocks your boat, I say.

And if someone thinks that, just because I am wearing a nice dress to a show that I am somehow “not metal” or that I don’t know what I am talking about, then they should get their heads out of their asses.

You live in Finland, a country in which heavy metal is far more mainstream than most. Would you still consider it a subculture in any way?

Something that is mainstream can’t be considered a subculture anymore, so, in this regard, it’s not a subculture. In Finland, metal is everywhere. The moment you get off the plane, you get on a bus and the driver blasts metal. You walk into a fast food restaurant and it’s there on TV. You take a cab, and it’s there on the radio. Every third person on the street is a metal musician; every village has their own summer festival. It’s great, and as a metalhead, you feel like you belong! I sometimes even forget that people listen to any other music genres, although they are represented here too. Once, during an interview with Marco Hietala (Nightwish, Tarot), who is definitely one of the most prominent metal musicians in Finland, I asked him what, in his opinion, was the reason that metal is so popular in Finland. He said: “It’s because the whole country is fucking rebellious!” He’s right.

Do you think that women in heavy metal are perceived differently in Finland that they are in other countries in Europe or in North America?

From what I see personally, I would say there is a difference in perception. Finnish society is very feminist, sometimes even to the point of ridiculousness; a man could be yelled at for holding a door for a woman. Men here are generally used to women working all sorts of professions and occupying important positions. They don’t assume that you can’t perform your duties properly because you’re a woman.

In the music industry, nobody will think that you’re someone’s girlfriend or groupie. Men will treat you with respect and generally keep their distance (this is also due to the Finns being quite a reserved type of people) and nobody will hit on you until they get very drunk.

Sadly, the worst misogynists in Finnish metal society are women themselves. I don’t know if this is also the case in other countries, but the constant battle for the attention of some musician, who, most of the time, isn’t even worth it, is sickening. Even if you have no interest in anybody, women will hate you simply for being in the same space as they are. I am not talking about random women, but those who work in the industry. Of course, not all people are like that, but there is a certain competitive element to the scene. It’s discouraging, and I often have to remind myself that I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

What advice would you have for someone who is just beginning to become involved in, listen to or work in the genre?

Get out before it’s too late. I know that if someone told me the same years ago, I would never believe them, and I know nobody’s going to believe me.

I’m a true metal junkie, and now my whole life is tied to it. If you are really sure that you absolutely have to get involved, you better grow a few layers of thick skin and sharpen your claws, because you’ll have to tear through a lot. There will be people who will try to take you down at every step you take, and there will be fans who will always be mad at you if you happen to give an unfavorable review to their favorite band. You cannot be involved with metal without things getting intense.

At the same time, be prepared to go through many exciting experiences and meet a lot of interesting and admirable people on your way. Always be genuine. Don’t take any bullshit from anybody, no matter how important they are. The truth is, most of these people are so tired from being constantly asslicked that they will appreciate you for your honesty. And if you think doing or saying something will be an outrage, always go for it!

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Tanja Caciur has been an avid metal aficionado for almost a decade. She started her career as a journalist four years ago, when she became a resident of Finland. She has been published in a number of online and printed media from all over the world in English and Russian, and some of her work has been translated into Norwegian. She is one of the ladies behind Music Photocalypse and  is also one of the contributors to a new project that will be published soon on one of Finland’s top music magazine’s websites (but she can’t give out more information about it yet). Tanja is dedicated to battling female stereotypes in the music industry.

This is a very special edition of Girls Don’t Like Metal. Rather than focus on a single subject, this week’s column focuses on a trio of awesome ladies all doing great work together in an organization called the Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada. Jenny DuHaime is the CEO and Chairperson of the H.M.M.A.C., and works in publishing at Mayfair. Michelle Ayoub is a concert promoter and co-owner of Dungeon Works Productions, a metal promotions company based in Montreal. She is also one of the organizers of the Heavy MTL Battle of the Bands in 2012. Barbara Pavone is a music journalist, a writer for Skindeep Magazine and editor of Xalt Magazine, Skunk Magazine, and RockandRollReport.com. She’s also the radio promoter for Asher Media, a PR company specializing in heavy metal. All three were kind enough to take the time to tell GDLM how they work together, and about all the good work they do for heavy metal music in Canada.

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Can you tell us a little bit about the Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada? When was it founded and what is the association’s mandate? How did each of you become involved, and what is your role?

Jenny: I’ll start with our official mandate: the Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada (H.M.M.A.C.) is dedicated to supporting established and upcoming talent in the Heavy Metal genre and its sub-genres, and promoting the overall practice of music. The Association will also help with promotional tour support, informing its members about grant support and about new information concerning the ever-evolving music industry. We will represent our association through trade shows, conferences and seminars and our own events.

The H.M.M.A.C. was founded by Raymond `Black Metal` Wallace in 2005. When Raymond approached me with this idea, I was very excited because I knew anything that Ray set his goals on would be a fabulous project. He asked if I could help him with the concept of this project from its genesis, as he knew my background in business, in the music industry and especially with my work with various organizations/associations.

We spent many nights on the phone until 5 AM working on the concept as I lived in Montreal and he was in Toronto. Once our goals were set, Ray worked to find members and to promote the Association. Our first event was set for Saturday, April 29, 2006 at The Marquee in Toronto. We had Piledriver play that event along with special guests including Rob Urbanati from Sacrifice. Labels, managers and bands were invited to set up kiosks at the event for their merch and information. We were able to find amazing sponsors for the event which helped fill our swag bags including Long & McQuade, Indica Records, Cyclone Records, BWBK, Gasoline Magazine and Exclaim Magazine. The event sold out, and had to open its doors early!

On November 27, 2007, I lost my dearest friend and colleague, Ray, at the age of 45 to a brain aneurysm. I promised when he passed that I would continue the Association.

H.M.M.A.C. rallied and soon we added amazing people to our roster, like A.J. McCready (Jetloud Music), Paula Danylevich (Hype Music), Pedro Barbosa (Let Artists Be, DIYW Communications) and Derek Osterlund. H.M.M.A.C. has been growing ever since and I have been blessed to have the team I have today.

Michelle: The H.M.M.A.C. Has essentially been re-launched in the last year or so. Our goals are to help promote Canadians artists and give them access to the tools and resources available to aid in their musical journeys. It serves as a networking tool for artists, fans and media representatives. We also hope to provide similar resources to international artists hoping to access the Canadian markets.

I got involved with H.M.M.A.C. through my business partner Nick Guérin (Dungeon Works Productions). The project was originally presented to him, he then presented it to me and we got involved with it. I am an event coordinator and work as the assistant Director of Events alongside Nick. I focus mainly on event planning and management for the Montreal/Quebec area.

Barbara: I knew and worked with the other members before H.M.M.A.C. was formally established, so when I was asked if I wanted to join when it was being created, I immediately said yes. My official title is that of H.M.M.A.C. Photographer, but I pitch in and help in any way I’m needed.

How do you perceive the profile of Canadian heavy metal to be on the international stage? What are some of your favourite Canadian metal bands, and how do you support them?

Jenny: When it comes to Canadian bands, there are so many to choose from! I dread this type of question. When I first became interested in metal, I loved listening to the bands Hotline and T.O. Joker. Other bands that I am fond of are Anvil, Razor, Piledriver, Bobnoxious, Sacrifice, Revolver (now Famous Underground) and Grimskunk. I also love The Birthday Massacre to shake the genres up a bit. I would also include Dissension, TodayICaughtthePlague, SYKODE, Automan, The Catalyst, Forbidden Sin, Ninja Spy, Bolero, 3 Mile Scream, Scythia, the Agonist, Aggressor… The truth is, every day I discover a new band that catches my ear. There is so much talent being produced in Canada that it makes it hard to choose favourites!

H.M.M.A.C. promotes all Canadian metal and rock bands, helping them network with industry members and guide them in the right direction. We also keep them informed about any available tour grants and other resources. We produce a compilation called Canuck Metal, with a new version every four months, and distribute it for free through www.loudtrax.com/hmmac (promo code: HMMAC) to help promote new bands. We also publish a newsletter every month for our members to inform them of the latest news in the industry. Being a huge advocate of continuing music education, we are committed to hosting music forums and clinics across Canada. Our first music clinic, on drums, was held this past month with Vinny Appice at Italmelodie in Montreal. We look forward to hosting more soon!

Bands should feel free to post to our social media sites, including Facebook, Twitter, MySpace and YouTube, as this is a great way to get their events and videos seen by a larger audience. Should any band have questions about H.M.M.A.C. or to find out how we can help promote them, they can contact any of our directors at Hmmacanada@gmail.com

Michelle: Canadian Heavy Metal is no doubt recognized on the international stage. Looking at the Quebec scene, there are many innovative artists that have had decades of international success. I’m all about the homegrown goodies myself. On the one side there are the bands I grew up listening to, like Voivod, who are arguably international living legends and are still running strong. Then there is an astounding amount of newcomers as well. Bands like Crossitution and Trainwreck Architect are blowing my mind in terms of talent, performance and initiative (as they are both unsigned).

In terms of how I support them it all depends. As a fan, I go to shows, I buy albums and merch. As a promoter, I book them shows, and help as much as I can from a managerial perspective. Canada is jammed packed with talent, and I think that it’s known around the world.

Barbara: I think Canadian metal is definitely respected on an international level and rightly so, as our country is brimming with talent from coast to coast, both major and indie. I may be biased in saying this because I’ve worked with them, but Titans Eve, Scythia, Nephelium and Tribune are definitely at the top of my list when it comes to great Canadian metal acts. They all bring something different and worth listening to the genre. Then there are the more widely known bands, like Anvil and Bison B.C.

How does H.M.M.A.C. help to promote and support equality in the heavy metal scene? How do each of you individually work towards making heavy metal a safe and egalitarian space?

Jenny: There is definitely no room for prejudice, sexism, racism or any other negative “-ism” in our Association. We complete and complement each other. Our work together is based on our talents.  As CEO/Chairperson this is one thing that I cherish most: talent.   Our team thrives on these abilities of our members. Over the years we will acquire more eperience whether it is working at H.M.M.A.C. or in our everyday workplace and those elements will be brought to the table. With this, there is room to grow.

Barbara: With three women playing various roles on the H.M.M.A.C. board, I don’t think there’s anyone who could question our commitment to and support of equality in the metal scene. One’s talent and abilities, whether they pertain to music or anything else, shouldn’t be suppressed, encouraged or judged based on gender. H.M.M.A.C. is all about spreading the great metal gospel to the masses and that’s all it comes down to, regardless of what you’ve got going on in your pants.

What do you think is the cause behind the recent backlash against discussions of feminism in heavy metal culture and in the music industry in general? 

Jenny: I think that part of it is the images portrayed of women in metal videos as far  back as in the ‘80s, especially the typical glam metal video that always included the band members being fawned over by a “hot chick.” It made it seem this was the metal way of life. Some males were taught to be misogynistic by their parents and culture, and this really should not have been tolerated. There was also a time where sex was used more and more to sell products, and labels and managers would have been crazy not to cash in on those types of videos to sell their bands. Not that it was the right thing to do but they did it anyway and that was because society allowed them to do it.

The old motto, “sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll” still has a lot of sway over some people. Today, some bands still use those types of videos to sell their work of art but most use creative, imaginative concepts and fast-paced imagery to sell their work. We are really working in the right direction. I am sure that any sexist person is basing their assumptions on something completely inaccurate. I challenge them to get a new perspective and rediscover the importance of women in heavy metal.

Michelle: Feminism is a tricky subject to embark upon whether it is in the context of heavy metal or any other aspect of popular culture. To pinpoint a cause seems like a futile task. Is it a misogynistic world? Is it empowering for females to participate? Or desperate? Who knows, who cares?

If you love it, do it. Do not let gender dictate your tastes or practices. You should certainly not let it dictate how others perceive you. Be the best at what you do, that will shine through. I’ve been at this a while and I’ve never let my gender get in the way of anything.

Barbara: All I’d like to say on this note is that I think some people have a tendency to over-analyze issues that are really non-issues. If a strong female who is ridiculously talented and a great musician wants to be sexy, why shouldn’t she be allowed to embrace both her hard edge and femininity? If the talent is there, I don’t care how much cleavage is on display.

As a genre of music, what do you think sets heavy metal apart? What is special about heavy metal fans?

Jenny: Music is in all of us. Everything we are is based on rhythm or pattern. Our  heartbeats, our body moves, our tongue quivers to make sound. Why people choose one form or genre over another can be based on many elements including an emotion, your inner beat, a particular note that drives you, lyrics or the sound of one instrument and how it is played over another. It would be hard to believe that a person only likes to listen to one style of music but perhaps it is better to say that they would prefer to listen to one style over another at a given moment.

The way that a vocalist uses their voice also makes a great difference in style. The reason I love heavy metal as much as I love classical is because of the range that is developed. There is a constant flow, and you can feel where the music is taking you if the songs are well developed. Lyrics are very important to me as well.  I love songs that tell a story or an emotion.

I really enjoy collaborating with the musicians of this genre because they demonstrate great showmanship, devotion to their craft and most leave their egos at the door. heavy metal musicians are always willing to learn from their peers and go the distance to perfect their craft. Often you will see one musician or vocalist from one band playing with another. It’s not a competition, it’s just about playing music. I also love that fans of heavy metal are extremely supportive of this genre. Metal musicians can count on their fans showing up to support them. I’ve worked with other genres of music over the years and I have never come across such a fraternity than with metalheads.

Michelle: I think that what sets heavy metal apart is the fact that fans don’t just buy, listen and follow whatever they’re presented with; they live it. It becomes an integral part of their lives in a way that you just don’t really see with other genres. There is a love, respect and dedication found in metal fans that really merits calling it a community. That aspect of community and rallying around the music and shows is special.

Barbara: I think heavy metal fans are truly some of the greatest fans in music. Of course there are exceptions, there always are, but I feel like metal fans have the great ability to love the music they love without being judgmental. They’re passionate, they know how to have a good time and they appreciate strong musicianship along with a memorable live performance. Not to mention they’re some of the most interesting and badass people out there. We’re definitely a good-looking bunch.

What are some ways that fans, future journalists, aspiring artists and promoters, etc. can get involved in their heavy metal scene? What advice would you have for someone who is just beginning to fall in love with heavy metal?

Jenny: It took me many years to admit that I was a heavy metal music lover due to the influences I had in my hometown and my friends across the country. Heavy metal was portrayed as the “devil’s work” and was not accepted as a form of music. But I was smart, I looked at the music, the lyrics, the marketing and the whole business of heavy metal music.

I would not be  working in this industry if I didn’t conclude that it was worth pursuing. It is all about the music. It is not about religion or politics unless the artists personally make it so. Most have something really important to say and tell their story as such. If you get your calling to work in this industry, don’t pass it up. Be willing to put a lot of time in, even decades, to make your mark, work hard, persevere and achieve your goals. There are people watching and listening and you will get your chance to take part in this fantastic industry. H.M.M.A.C. thrives on the talents of out music industry colleagues, whether you are a manager, agent, label, promoter, distributor, PR, musician or fan, etc. Everyone contributes and everyone matters.

Michelle: The key is to get involved. You don’t need to start a magazine or website, or go out and book bands and spend your life savings. Go to the shows. Support local acts, support local venues. Give the new kids a chance. Give a different genre a chance. You never know when you will come across a gem. Support the bands, promoters, venues and underground media who are getting the music out there.

Barbara: The biggest thing is definitely going out to shows and supporting your local metal talent. Buy a ticket, a CD or a shirt and help keep your favourite metal band going.

Other than that, there’s nothing easier than joining H.M.M.A.C. so we can bombard you with great information about Canadian metal, invite you to exclusive events and offer you free music and swag. Doesn’t get any better than that, does it?!

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Jenny DuHaime Jenny has worked in the entertainment industry for 20 years as a singer/songwriter, talent consultant, actress and acting teacher. For the past 16 years, she has used these skills to help other talented Canadians develop their craft. She currently heads PAX Management out of Montreal. In the music industry, she continues to manage and develop various musical talents. Jenny is an advocate for continuing music education and helps represent the 2nd largest publishing house in Canada, Mayfair Music  Publications.

In 2001, she met Raymond ‘Black Metal’ Wallace. Together, they created projects such as scouting talent, managing and booking artists and, in 2005, the Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada. She takes her role as CEO/Chairperson seriously, not only to fulfill the dream of H.M.M.A.C.’s founder, but to ensure that heavy rock and metal music is given the same respect as other mainstream genres in the industry.

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Michelle Ayoub

> Quebecoise born and raised
> Co-owner Dungeon Works Productions in Montreal (or Vice-president, whatever you feel has the best ring)
> Event coordination H.M.M.A.C.
> Professional Body Piercer (Slick Styled Steel)
> Former videographer/editor with work having screened at or featured in several festivals and publications (including Fantasia International Film Festival & Sick Drummer Magazine)
> Bachelor Degree from Concordia University in Communications, Specialization in Video Production
> Former DJ – CJLO; Music Director/DJ – CIXS The Edge as well as live DJ and MC spot (ongoing)
> Been working with bands (booking, management, street team organization, roadie, tech, etc) for about ten years
> Appeared on Urban Alien’s album Trui3 & Neuraxis’ album Asylon

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With degrees in international business and journalism, Barbara Pavone is heavily involved in the music industry as a writer and photographer for a number of magazines, including Skin Deep and Xalt, and is a publicist/radio promoter for Asher Media Relations, in addition to being a part of the Heavy Metal Music Association of Canada (H.M.M.A.C.). She is always happy to answer questions about music, tattoos and why half of her hair seems to always be missing.

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To get in touch with the H.M.M.A.C., email them at hmmacanada@gmail.com or get in touch on Facebook or Twitter!

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What is your relationship to heavy metal like? Is it a love story? How did you two meet?

My very first memory: waking up terrified because “I Am The God Of Hellfire!” is blasting on my cassette player. That was courtesy of my Heavy Metal Older Brother, the only guy who would use Arthur Brown as an alarm clock for a six year old. The first album I ever treasured was Iron Maiden‘s Killers, and the only argument we ever got into was over whether or not I scratched up his OOP Saint Vitus record (sorry about that).

I started falling in love with punk and Oi!, from Johnny Thunders to UK 82, when I transitioned from elementary to middle school, and spent the majority of those years ducking out of an all-girls Catholic school to drink 40s in Tompkins Square Park with Choking Victim. Punks and metalheads have this weird animosity, but crusty speed metal bands and other groups with elements of both genres like Skitsystem made sure heavy metal always had a place in my Walkman. Amebix was always a favorite in our house, so crust has a fond place in my heart and a lasting effect upon my wardrobe.

I know it’s cliché to say “heavy metal saved my life,” but in this case it’s true. At one point, I was on strict bed rest for months with only the thought of learning how to walk again in my future. I got really down that winter, listening to lots of harsh DSBM, and wanting to give up. I began listening to artists like Mortifera, Gris, Alcest and Grey Waters for hours, overwhelmed by this marriage of sadness and beauty. That turned into a sense of hope, and eventually I began taking care of myself. With some Inepsy and Axegrinder to get me going, here I am two years later, playing hockey again and working toward running a marathon in May.

What made you decide to make heavy metal your career? What was your entry point into the industry?

Music is my true love, and I started doing DIY band promotion and booking locally in high school. Originally I had enrolled at NYU as a restaurant management major. A few years later, I found myself working toward a combined PR and Irish studies degree.

I was several months away from packing up and moving to Galway, Ireland when I ended up at the U.S. Earache Records office in Long Island City. The label had just signed Woods of Ypres, a band I had been following closely for several years thanks to my Canadian best friend, who was among the handful of devoted fans attending their early local shows.

I had been in contact with Woods singer David Gold prior to their U.S. tour regarding booking and promotion, and had sought out a public relations internship at Earache so I could continue working closely with the band. Since the former U.S. publicist had left, there was a void I had to fill immediately, which was both extremely stressful but one of the greatest opportunities I’ve ever had to step up and take control of a situation. In a matter of weeks I felt more at home hammering out last minute press releases and organizing sponsorships than I did working the line in any kitchen.

As both a freelance writer and a publicist, how do you think these two jobs relate to each other? It has always struck me that publicists and writers have a symbiotic, and yet sometimes confrontational, relationship. Do you agree?

The idea that publicists and journalists are mortal enemies is one that continues to be encouraged by both society and educational institutions. Yes, these two careers are naturally opposed, but so dependent on one another. Publicists and writers form the bridge that allows information to flow from raw source (the bands) to mass audience, and that is a very serious responsibility.

For both writing and PR, honesty is key, not only with the public, but also with each other. I was hesitant about playing both sides of the field because I was afraid of jeopardizing my integrity. This can be avoided by just having an open channel of communication with your colleagues. My preferred style of PR is very personal, very hands on. I build working relationships with media professionals by being a music fan who happens to be a publicist (which is exactly who I am).

It is important to treat a low-reach but hardworking blogger with as much respect as you would the editor of Decibel. From a writer’s perspective, I now understand that publicists sometimes have to put aside their personal opinions and feelings in order to best serve their client. That’s not always easy. At the end of the day, everyone is working hard. It’s okay to be friends!

You refer to yourself as “the smallest person in metal.” How did you get that name?

I received that title from Al Dawson, U.S. manager of Earache Records and the nicest, craziest Australian I’ve ever met. I’ve always been tiny, but at 5’1″ and about 85 pounds at a metal show, I turn into an elf. It also means I have an excuse to wear Jeffrey Campbell platforms 24/7.

Tell is about Broken Limbs Recordings. How did you come to be a part of their team?

Broken Limbs Recordings began as a partnership between me and a good friend, but as usual life gets in the way, and external responsibilities and opportunities changed the way the label was being run shortly after it’s inception. Right now the Broken Limbs team is made up of three very dedicated and very nerdy individuals who have always viewed music as their full time job. You could say I’m the captain but we would all go down with the ship smiling and toasting Lemmy.

I’m a musician from a family of musicians. I know that there’s nothing better than waking up in the morning and being excited to do something you love, every single day. That’s what we want for each of our artists. I also want to introduce North America to some great underground European metal that otherwise would never make it across the Atlantic. The scene in Ireland is criminally underrated, and excellent black metal like Fuil na Seanchoille and From The Bogs of Aughiska are flying under the radar. We plan on changing that.

What kind of heavy metal, and music in general, do you listen to and enjoy the most? What should we all be listening to?

I’m a classically trained pianist/jazz drummer/ex-violinist. I also play snare in a bagpipe band and tin whistle in my spare time, so what I listen to changes on a daily basis. Ära Krâ, Midnight and Alda snuggled up next to each other was my 2011 list. Recently, I’ve been spinning Addaura, Lunaire, Arvorar and Leech.

When I want to punch things, or get work done, Aura Noir‘s classic Black Thrash Attack is always close at hand, and is Infernal Stronghold, Sabbat, and basically anything ending in -hammer. For more classic thrash madness, I go to Vio-Lence‘s Oppressing the Masses and Dark Angel‘s Time Does Not Heal.

France and Canada are killing it right now with great atmospheric releases from De Silence et d’Ombre and Neige et Noirceur, as well as Sorcier des Glaces, Grimoire, Chasse-Galerie and Sui Caedere. Keep a close eye on Métal Noir Québécois.

Listen to everything Patrick Hasson of Attila the Hun puts out. This man is an endless source of stunning musical entities, and I’m proud to be releasing material from two of his projects, blackish punk Avulse and Wholy Failure. Auspicium is just this fog of gorgeous bleakness, Black Chalice channels some crust and Field of Spears is raw neo-folk to the bone.

Shameless plug: Some of the artists I’m most excited about are the ones we’re working with. Vattnet Viskar, Percht, Ah Ciliz, Cara Neir and this hypnotizing Brooklyn outfit Yellow Eyes come highly recommended. We’re tentatively putting out material from Sorrows, Black Monolith, Desolate Oasis, Ramlord, Deafest, Fifteen Dead, Artificial Brain, Fhoi Myore, Arduinna, Saccage, Hunter’s Ground, Sun Worship and Grauzeit this year.

While heavy metal culture is in many ways a refuge for those who don’t like/ascribe to traditional ideals of “normal” appearance, there is still an element of judgment in the culture, just adhering to different standards. Have you ever felt challenged, looked down upon, or felt that it was more difficult to be accepted/do your job because of your appearance?

My dad is this tough, street-wise guy from Brooklyn, covered in tattoos from head to toe, including full sleeves. He’s also a well-respected doctor who taught me that there are only two kinds of people in this world: assholes and everyone else. That’s the only lens I see through. Being raised by a body-modified professional, I learned from a very early age that appearance means nothing. My career path hasn’t been what most would consider ‘normal.’ Managing a tattoo shop and hanging out with inked chefs was my normal. This industry has been very accepting, and I rarely take notice to reactions of my appearance anymore. If you don’t like it, ignore it and move on, or you can meet my dad.

As someone who has worked for several companies in the music industry and in several capacities, can you comment on how metal organizations and labels, large and small, are working to accommodate and attract female fans, and also make a better environment for women working in the industry?

To be perfectly honest, I don’t see or draw any gender lines in this industry. “Attracting” women to the genre seems to be the main tactic used by metal organizations today. Like it or not, Revolver‘s blatant use of female sexuality is not just marketed toward men.

I don’t feel that women need accommodating. If you like the music, what else is there to worry about? By pointing out the differences between the sexes, we’re ensuring they exist. I see men and women working side by side every day, exchanging good-natured banter shot for shot. Other than that, men are just ragging on other men. Trust me, I have three brothers.

What is it about heavy metal that captivates you and keeps drawing you in?

The umbrella of ‘heavy metal’ reaches so far and wide that it’s impossible to know everything that’s going on at once. There are thousands of demos I haven’t listened to; twenty- or thirty-year-old records I’ve never heard of. Trying to stay on top of this shifting current of modern metal as well as delving into the archives for hours of research always keeps me busy.

Whether you’re running a label, promoting bands, or writing about metal, knowledge really is power. You have to be informed and aware to do the best job you possibly can. Since I need the energy to do all three, my best friends are coffee and Wolfpack.

What advice would you like to pass along to young women, or anyone, who aspires to make a career in heavy metal?

“De Mheon Dílseachta, Onóra is Paisin,” are the words I chose to represent Broken Limbs. Loyalty, honour and passion.

Be loyal to yourself. As a woman, you are naturally the better headbanger. Never sell yourself short. Be honest with others. Don’t pretend you’ve heard of that one-man bedroom black metal project in Sri Lanka, no one else has heard of it either. If you’re passionate about heavy metal, you will find a way to do what you love with the talents you already have, and inspire others along the way.

Don’t stop listening to punk. Always have a sense of humour. Never be an asshole.

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Bariann Tuite runs new indie label Broken Limbs Recordings from a tiny chair just outside New York City. She also moonlights as a freelance publicist and music journalist who has studied at NYU and Hofstra University. Any time left over is spent drumming and competing in the Wantagh Pipe Band, studying Irish language and literature, and being a professional dog lover. You can contact her at brokenlimbsrecordings@gmail.com or beithdubh@gmail.com

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Last week was Canadian Music Week in Toronto, but I didn’t attend. Instead, I headed to the EMP Pop Conference held at NYU, where music journos and nerds alike gathered to talk about their favourite subject.

While CMW was holding panel discussions on “Monetizing Online Communities” and “How to Get Booked on a Festival: Even If Nobody Knows Who You Are,” the speakers at Pop Con were discussing such topics as: “Feminist Musicking and Educational Activism in Urban Spaces,” and “For Promotional Use Only”: Mixtapes and the Making and Unmaking of Musical Consensus.”

CMW isn’t a rare example of the kinds of industry-centred events we have here in Canada. The Halifax Pop Explosion and NXNE also have conferences heavily centred on the business side to music, while completely ignoring the listener. Both conversations are valid and worth having, but there is currently a severe lack of opportunities for listener-centred discourse in Canada. The Polaris Music Prize salons are about the only chance music fans in the country have to get together and nerd-out in full-on public debate, but even those have their limitations.

Why is there nothing similar to Pop Con happening in Canada right now? It’s not as though there aren’t any Canadian music critics willing to engage with their material on a more academic level. This year alone there were 14 Canadian panelists at Pop Con who presented on various papers and topics over the 4 days.

Knowing what makes the conference so special can help to explain why Canada doesn’t have something like it in action. Presented in association with the Experience Music Project in Seattle, the Clive Davis Institute of Music at NYU and IASPM-US, Pop Con is an annual free conference where the worlds of academic and pop music criticism collide. The spectrum of professionals involved with Pop Con highlights the relationship between academia and the pop criticism worlds, a point of convergence unique to the conference and one worth exploring further.

During the conference, I met with journalist, McGill grad and postdoctoral fellow at the University of the West Indies (Mona campus), Erin MacLeod, who has participated at Pop Con over the past 6 years. For her, the meeting of academic and journalistic worlds is an exercise in accessibility as well as a conversation that benefits both sides: “you really have to balance out the fact that it’s an academic conference that has a lot of superstars. When you’re dealing with pop music studies, you get a lot of big personalities [...] and I think that [their presence] does put pressure on academics to be more accessible, and that it also puts pressure on people who have more of a journalistic perspective to know that it’s okay to think critically about this kind of stuff.”

The superstars MacLeod refers to are the established music critics who have built a name for themselves over the years both in their profession and at Pop Con. Not only is the conference highly esteemed, due in large part to the clout both EMP and NYU have in North America, but that status seems to reinforce its accessibility to reaches beyond the academic and journalistic professions.

Fellow Canadian, Del F. Cowie, an editor at Exclaim, echoed MacLeod’s sentiments and also emphasized the collaborative nature of the conference: “it is an extension of what music critics do anyway: discuss music. A lot of the stuff that happens here is just people talking when the papers aren’t even going on. Mainly, [Pop Con] is an opportunity to share ideas and exchange info and get a sense of what’s going on [around you].” Indeed, a lot of the discussions I attended were centred around papers and ideas in their infancy. Getting feedback from the larger critical community seems to be a huge draw for the numerous panelists involved with the conference.

I initially thought that the closeness between academia and music journalism taking place at Pop Con was the result of the democratization of journalism via the internet. I thought that perhaps more academic approaches and language are being sought out to reinforce the distance between reader and “expert;” however, conversations with people like MacLeod and Cowie emphasized how important the aspects of collaboration and community are to the conference. Pop Con isn’t about journalists encroaching on academic territory in order to find new ways of distinguishing themselves from their readership. Such a perspective doesn’t account for the fact that the conference is free to anyone interested, and no academic affiliation is required in order to submit a proposal.

Instead, the closeness between these academic and journalist crowds stems more from necessity. Prior to my trip to New York, I spoke with Anupa Mistry, who is a writer for NOW Magazine in Toronto as well as a member of the 2012 Best Music Writing editorial board. Mistry wasn’t able to attend the conference herself, but her closeness to many involved gives her a great deal of insight regarding the conference’s place and role. She pointed to editorial policy as a possible explanation for the lack of critical discourse amongst Canadian music critics and academics: “Maybe we’re not used to looking at music more critically because there isn’t the space for that type of work to be published? You’d have to ascertain a certain level of audience engagement with those ideas that maybe Canadian editors aren’t so comfortable vetting. I doubt it’s that critics aren’t comfortable with engaging in those ideas, but more so that there’s only a small number of places where those ideas can get published.”

Mistry has a point. Based on sheer size of the countries, there’s definitely a much larger market in the United States for the kinds of perspectives Pop Con panelists bring to the table. In Canada, the industry is a lot smaller and therefore the likelihood of publishing a critical text is remote in itself, the notion of breaking even or finding a large enough audience, even more unlikely. In fact, there seems to be a dominating or preferred style of music writing in this country, as some of the most well received Canadian-written texts of-late have been histories, authored by the likes of Liz Worth, Stuart Henderson, Stuart Berman and Dalton Higgins. That’s not to say that there isn’t anything subversive happening within their pages, because having someone like Liz Worth write Toronto punk into history is still an important undertaking; however, as history places so much emphasis on impartiality, there is much less opportunity for critical discourse to find its way into the pages.

Although the absence of a Canadian Pop Con can be attributed to a general lack of interest in more critical viewpoints by Canadian publishers, such a cut and dry understanding of music criticism here in Canada versus music criticism in the United States is complicated by the fact that getting published is still very much an uphill battle for many of the Americans involved at this year’s conference. I got the feeling that Pop Con exists in spite of publishing policy, not directly because of it.

During the conference, my conversation with noted music critic and Village Voice music editor, Maura Johnston, revealed that she knows that battle all too well. She has been writing online in some capacity for roughly 20 years and has seen the blogging world change for better and for worse. No stranger to the absurd SEO demands of out-of-touch executives, Johnston’s career heading the Gawker affiliated website Idolator was cut short after the site changed hands from Gawker to Buzzmedia. She was told that her writing was simply not “relatable” enough, fired via phone call, and told that she was only allowed to make one more post on the site. Johnston’s writing happens to be very relatable; however, she finds that it’s her feminist perspective that is often at odds with her so-called “relatability.”

It’s in this sense that Pop Con’s true necessity can be found. In a time where page-views and analytics dictate content, the chances of publishing criticism not satisfying those qualifications is growing increasingly more and more difficult. Therefore, a conference like Pop Con is a godsend for anyone interested in expressing opinions that fall outside of trends. It allows the freedoms to be Feminist, Marxist or whatever perspective you prefer, all the while providing a strong community for support, discussion and collaboration.

The closeness of American music journalists to the academic world signifies a desperate attempt to sustain critical dialogues. In Canada and the United States, it’s becoming increasingly clear that writing that is seen as serving a smaller audience and is therefore less “relatable,” has few options outside the university presses. Universities like Oxford, Duke, and the University of Toronto all have hands in sustaining our most crucial and critical dialogues when it comes to music criticism, and therefore it’s no surprise that institutions like NYU have also joined in the fray to help bring these ideas to an audience.

Canada does not need to have its own Pop Con for the sake of being like big brother. My concern and examination into this issue stems from the fact that I know that Canada has so many vital and intelligent voices. The obvious benefits to having an institution like Pop Con, as outlined by MacLeod, Cowie, Mistry and Johnston, make our lack of community confounding. I can appreciate the fact that Canadian critics are representing strongly across the border on every topic imaginable, but why is there no discussion happening at home? At what point can we expect to start the conversation here?

This year, Carl Wilson posited in his Pop Con paper on “Torontopia” and the Toronto music scene from 2001-03, that the city saw one of its most explosive and creative critical debates around music at the same time it was going through a significant boom in musical activity, with the likes of Wavelength and Stillepost guiding the way. The scene essentially set the stage for strong critical engagement and community. While Toronto’s experience is not representative of Canada’s as a whole, the notion that there’s a relationship between stoking local fires and having a solid critical community is applicable everywhere. Creating our very own Pop Con might not be the answer to our troubles, and it might also discourage Canadian critics from the kinds of cross-border collaborations that the conference makes possible. Perhaps the basic principles of the conference can be adopted in other ways, as notions of accessibility, collaboration and openness to new ideas can lead us to a more fruitful and diverse critical community. 

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Michael Rancic writes most frequently on his Tumblr, Therewasnosound and Twitter.  He has been published by Sound Pollution  and Spinner Canada. Recently he published a three-part series evaluating the CanCon regulations in the wake of Canadian musicians having immense success both internationally and at home. Prior to trying his hand at freelancing, Michael pursued a Master of Arts degree in English at the University of Guelph, and graduated in 2008. He is now working toward being certified by the Editor’s Association of Canada and hopes to have a continued and successful career as a freelance journalist in Toronto.

And I will admit, I had some ulterior, and quite frankly anthropological motivations to my decisions to camp out and watch a single showcase as well. I go to so many metal shows these days that I sometimes forget how other music events play out. Will the indie rock crooner call for a circle pit? Is the keyboardist likely to shower me in beer? Part palate cleanser and part observational experiment, I wanted to remind myself of what most people think about when they picture a live music experience.

The first band to hit the stage were Toronto’s own easy-going, slovenly indie rockers Cousin. A single song into their set, the band took a “duct tape break” to patch up a busted guitar strap (the band would later remark on their Facebook page that they ended up breaking all three guitars during their set), which ended up setting the tone for the cheery, off-the-cuff DIY quality to their set. Toying with spoken word passages and even the occasional bit of brass support in their set, Cousin gave the distinct impression that they were muddling through and having a great time. They have a much more solid idea of who they are in terms of musical theme than they have a grip on their aesthetic, but listening to them wander and explore on stage was strangely pleasant.

Next up were Vancouver’s In Medias Res, who stayed true to their names and began their set with a sense of visceral immediacy, with a throbbing baseline that gave way to shimmering, almost psychedelic tones. The band achieve a solid balance in their live sound between dreamy, trembling melodies that shift and change in the ear, and strong, pulsing rhythms that anchor the songs. The band members themselves add to the immersive quality of their performance by appearing wholly absorbed in the music, employing deep, slow, swooping headbanging that looked almost meditative.

Toronto’s Mark Andrade was up next with his new jack-of-all-trades project Paradise Animals, a conglomeration of many musical influences and a collaboration between many of Andrade’s talented friends. Paradise Animals is by nature a schizophrenic project, the percussion flirting with rock at one moment and chatting up a distinctly funk-flavoured bassline the next. Because it is so chameleonic, this is difficult music to properly snuggle up to. There were moments that I loved, and then others that would cause me to drift away. It was interesting, however, to engage with music that constantly asked the listener to pick it up and put it down again as it changed shape, not worrying that the listening experience was not completely immersive.

By the time Brooklyn, NY four-piece Bear Hands started their set, Sneaky Dee’s, which had been gradually filling up, now felt positively claustrophobic. The tightly packed atmosphere suited the band well, as their jangly, strangely joyous indie reinvigorated the energy in the room. There’s a hand-clapping, sing-a-long quality to their music that makes an audience want to move, and having a room packed with eager bodies for Bear Hands to inspire suited the band perfectly. Between Dylan Rau’s distinct voice and the dynamic, playful drumming, they made this show feel like a party.

Beloved Toronto indie rock band Dinosaur Bones may have been greeting my steadily rising energy, pouring a buttery, mellow vibe over the room with caramel smooth melodies and Ben Fox’s sweet, mellifluous voice. Full and bright with shiny moments, punctuated by their warm, uplifting guitar tones and sparkly, somehow effervescent cymbals, their songs embody a kind of worldly optimism edged with the barest gilt of melancholy. The dark elements of their music is presented with such a delicacy and deft touch that is is hard to guard against until they’ve wormed their way into your heart.

I was hoping to camp out all night and see Sheezer at 3 am, but after Dinosaur Bones’ set I officially threw in the towel and began the long, damp, windy bike ride home. Shocked out of my cocoon of warm, woolly indie rock, it struck me that the show had left me just as drained as if I had been to a metal show, but in a different way. Whereas a great deal of metal functions on the premise of creating all all-out aural assault, indie rock is a lot sneakier about what it takes from a listener. In a metal audience, you expect musical violence, and you arm yourself accordingly, fully prepared to engage in a good-natured battle with the band and your fellow concert goers. It is the band’s responsibility to overcome that resistance and pummel you into submission, to draw a certain kind of reaction out of you. With indie rock, it is far more insidious, a subtle drawing and wringing out of emotion that can steal all sorts of reactions from a listener who leaves themselves unguarded. I need new weapons for this listening experience.

Rae Amitay

I interview a wide range of women who work in the music industry for Girls Don’t Like Metal, from music journalists and publicists to academics and, of course, musicians. This week, I had the opportunity to talk to the lovely and talented Rae Amitay, a unique interview subject, in that she embodies several of the roles women take on in the industry. In addition to a career in music writing (she is a full-time staff writer and social media manager for Metal Review), Rae is also a session and touring drummer. She brings unparalleled flair and charisma to her video interviews, and her dynamic strength characterizes her drumming. As an artist and a member of the press, Rae is an incomparable voice in the metal scene, as she is able to draw from more than one perspective on the industry.

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When did you first begin drumming? When did you know that you wanted to devote yourself to drumming as a career?

I started drumming during my freshman year of high school. I’d recently decided to give up competitive figure skating (that’s “metal,” right?), and that had taken up so much of my life that I was left really unsure of what to pursue next.

It was a rough patch, in a very teen angst sort of way, and I spent the vast majority of my newly discovered free time walking around my neighbourhood, listening to albums I picked up from the Record & Tape Exchange. This ended up being an unbelievable opportunity for me to explore new genres, both within and outside of metal.

Out of the blue, I came to the realization that I wanted my next move to be something musical. When I was much younger, I’d been a classically trained pianist, but I felt confined by the antiquated material, and that experience ended up making me a wreck of nerves and resent the whole learning process. I’d always had a sincere interest in playing the drums, but I’d never had the chance to try it out.

Convincing my parents was a bit of an uphill battle, but eventually they relented and I joined a band three weeks later, after telling their guitarist that I’d been playing for “about a year.” I’m not sure how persuasive I was, but I ended up performing with a few different projects and by the time I was 16, I was absolutely convinced that if there was any way I could play drums as a career, I needed to pursue every avenue possible in order to make that happen.

Have you always known that you specifically wanted to be a metal drummer?

Oh, definitely not! When I first started at 14, I was playing alternative rock almost exclusively. I’d just sit down and play through Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins albums, and I was content with that. Dave Grohl and Jimmy Chamberlin are both enormously skilled players, so trying to emulate them was my first singular focus. Even though my favourite bands at the time were predominantly metal, I never attempted to learn those songs because I wasn’t sure of what I wanted out of my drumming.

It wasn’t until another drummer at my high school posted a video of himself playing “Pushit” by Tool that I decided to give more complex songs a shot. I learned “Pushit” too, and it opened up a whole new realm of drumming for me. When I was 16, I bought my first double bass pedal (a DW 7000) and started messing around with developing speed and independence.

Once I had enough skill to start playing songs I’d deemed “impossible” a few years earlier, I took a bit of a break from playing metal in order to develop more versatility. In preparation for my Berklee audition, I started playing massive amounts of music by Herbie Hancock, Guthrie Govan, Lettuce and a bunch of other killer fusion bands. Metal was placed on the back burner for a while, but I never stopped listening to it.

In the end, that’s what ended up being my deciding factor in prioritizing metal drumming — being able to perform the music you love most adds an incredible new dimension to an already deeply personal connection to your performance, and that’s what I wanted above all else. I still play a lot of alternative rock, pop and funk/fusion, but I spend the majority of my time with metal. That’s such a vast category of music anyway and so much of the metal out there incorporates aspects of Latin, jazz and world music influences.

You pursued a formal musical education, earning a degree from the Berklee College of Music. This is something many metal musicians don’t necessarily do (most are autodidacts or get private lessons). How has this education changed you as an artist?

I fully believe that formal musical education is completely unnecessary in order to become an unbelievable player. However, it has given me some great advantages that I’m very thankful for. Going to Berklee has taught me volumes about the music industry and the classes that I’ve taken in social media direction and creative promotion have been invaluable. Having the opportunity to learn from drumming legends such as Mike Mangini, Dave DiCenso and Rod Morgenstein has also been an honour and something I would never take for granted.

In the end though, Berklee’s greatest gift has been providing me with the tools to match my indefatigable motivation to pursue opportunities. It was never a matter of knowing what I wanted to do, as I was already certain, but Berklee showed me how to go about opening doors instead of knocking tentatively on them.

Of course, having the knowledge is only half the battle; it’s like that old adage, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink.” Well, Berklee will lead you to the water, but there’ll also be a bunch of highly dedicated musicians right behind you, ready to take that water away if you don’t act fast. That kind of pressure, coupled with the intense focus on music theory, can take the joy out of studying music for some. As I said, I think school is inessential in becoming an accomplished musician, but Berklee offers an extensive education in every fathomable area of the music industry, not just in the realm of performance.

It is particularly rare in heavy metal to see a female drummer (though there are awesomely talented ladies out there — Stef MacKichan of Mares of Thrace and Mercedes Lander of Kittie come to mind)? Who are your role models?

They’re both great examples, that’s for sure. My role models in metal are pretty diverse and there are so many drummers that I admire. As far as emulating a certain style, the few that immediately come to mind are Hannes Grossmann (Obscura, Blotted Science), Chris Adler (Lamb of God), Gavin Harrison (Porcupine Tree) and Danny Carey (Tool). They’re some of my favourite players and I’ve modelled quite a bit of my style after watching and listening to them. I haven’t met Hannes or Danny, but Chris and Gavin are truly humble and kindhearted, which adds to the respect that I have for them. I think it’s special when you can look up to a musician not just for the work they do, but for their character as well. Some of my greatest influences when I first started playing were Jimmy Chamberlin (Smashing Pumpkins), Vinnie Colaiuta, Josh Freese, Steve Smith and Rod Morgenstein (Winger, Dixie Dregs). I’m currently studying with Rod, and he’s one of the finest examples of someone who is both an astonishing player and an unbelievably good person.

Do you ever find being a woman who performs, and writes about, heavy metal challenging?

Yes, but so far I’ve actually run into more adversity with my music journalism. As a metal performer, the main issue I’ve encountered is that some groups are hesitant to take a woman out on the road with them as a member of the band, whereas they’re typically fine with a woman selling their merchandise or managing their tour. I think they worry that they won’t be able to act like themselves, complete with shameless bodily functions, beer for breakfast and the banishment of proper hygiene, but I know what I’m signing up for! Being crammed in a van with a bunch of sweaty guys isn’t glamorous, but I’m comfortable with that lifestyle.

I’ve found that one of the greater challenges I’ve faced has been my age, combined with my gender. There’s no way around the fact that I’m young, so all I can do is present myself with the highest possible level of professionalism and consistently prove that I can hold my own.

As for the writing, often times people will criticize my reviews with the sole complaint that since I’m female, I must not understand the depth or magnitude of whatever album I’m reviewing. I remember one comment I received was along the lines of, “No testosterone = No taste in metal.” I didn’t even bother responding, but misogynistic and tragically misguided comments like that are commonplace, especially online where there’s no accountability.

As irritating as that might be, there have been advantages, too. I’ve received more attention for my playing and writing than I believe I would have if I were a man. I have mixed feelings about this, but as long as I’m putting forth my strongest efforts, I’m glad that people are noticing.

People are still fascinated by women in male-dominated fields, and while I hope that one day the scales even out, the public interest shown towards women in metal is something to be used to our advantage. What you’re doing with this column is raising awareness without being degrading. So many publications sell issues by printing “Hottest Chicks in Metal” features, and that whole idea doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t judge the women who choose to participate, as it’s a high-profile opportunity for their projects to gain exposure, but I wish magazines didn’t have to resort to that kind of marketing in order to get people to read about women involved in the genre.

How did you come to fall in love with heavy metal?

That’s a really tough question to answer specifically, but I think it all started because of my mom’s fascination with Beethoven, Stravinsky and Mussorgsky. All of those composers had a penchant for minor-key tonality and there’s a certain frenetic quality to their compositions. I listened to their music from the time I was born, so the transition into darker contemporary material was a natural progression.

Basically, I’d take recommendations from older kids I’d see wearing metal shirts, and by the age of 12, my favourite bands were Strapping Young Lad, Deftones and Darkthrone. Those bands are mind-blowingly different from each other, but for some reason they all resonated with me in a profound way. After that, my life became a nearly non-stop pursuit to acquire as much metal as possible, and that hasn’t stopped!

I’d say that my favourite genres, without stumbling into the mystifying realm of micro-genres, are still death metal and black metal, but there are countless bands that I love that don’t fall neatly within those classifications. There’s a feeling I get from listening to, and performing, metal that I can’t get from anything else; it’s intoxicating and inimitable.

In addition to your work as a session and touring drummer, you also work as a metal journalist, most notably for Metal Review. How did you make the transition from artist to member of the press? Do you ever find it difficult to integrate these two parts of your career?

The transition happened fairly seamlessly. I was writing sporadically for a guitar-centric website and I was approached by a member of the Metal Review staff about potentially becoming a part of the team. I submitted some of my work and the rest is history! I’ve been writing reviews for Metal Review since I was 19, and I can feel myself developing a stronger sense of my voice with every piece. At least I hope so! I’ve discovered some of my favourite new bands through working for the site and many people on the Metal Review staff have become close friends.

It hasn’t been difficult to combine the two aspects of my career, but I think being a musician has made me a more diplomatic writer than some of my peers. It’s rare that I’ll review an album that I absolutely can’t stand, because I empathize with the amount of work that goes into creating music. I endeavour to find redeeming qualities in everything I write about, because I’m not in the business of publicly condemning bands for their work. If I wasn’t trying so hard to make a career in music, maybe I’d treat my writing differently. As it stands, I would rather pass on reviewing a terrible album instead of taking an opportunity to rip someone’s effort to shreds. That said, I’ve reviewed plenty of disappointing albums by bands I love and I’ve written about them accordingly.

You’ve had the opportunity to interview some fantastic artists in your work as a journalist. Do you have any particular favourites?

Devin Townsend, hands down. This will make me sound like the biggest fan girl on the planet, but I love everything he does. Sure, there are some of his albums that I prefer over others, but he’s my favourite voice in metal. He’s such a dynamic and explosive character onstage that I wasn’t sure how he would be in an interview setting. Turns out, he’s one of the calmest and genuinely nicest people I’ve met in the metal world. He was my first in-person interview too, and I was nervous as hell. I think he could tell, so he made small talk with me and we joked around for about five minutes before the camera started rolling. That was an interview that I never wanted to end. Afterwards, I was bouncing around and hugging my videographer. I don’t think I’ve ever geeked out that hard before, nor do I think I ever will again. People say you shouldn’t meet your heroes, but if Devin Townsend is one of them, I’d highly recommend it!

Michael Amott and Sharlee D’Angelo from Arch Enemy were also superbly nice guys. Michael is heavily involved with Arch Enemy’s online presence and we chatted about the importance of social media for a while. Not even ten minutes after our interview ended he was following me on Twitter, both through his personal account and Arch Enemy’s. He didn’t have to do that and it was a really gracious gesture that completely made my day.

You’re very active on Twitter both personally, and you do social media work for Metal Review as well. How do you think social media is changing the way that metal bands, press and fans interact?

Social media is an easy and advantageous way to facilitate communication between labels, bands and their fans. Labels can promote each band on their roster, as well as drawing attention to specific albums in their catalogue. Ever since Facebook modified their interface in order to compete with band pages on MySpace, people use Facebook not only as a means to promote their music, but also to host Q&As with fans, sell merchandise and provide pictures and status updates while they’re recording or on tour. For example, Michael Amott is highly interactive with his fans on Twitter. He’ll retweet and answer their questions, which provides his followers with more information, as well as giving some of them a moment in the spotlight.

It’s also easier to get in touch with bands directly, as opposed to going through the usual PR channels. There are interviews that I’ve arranged via Facebook with a band member, and the lines of communication are readily available like never before.

It’s much easier now for people to feel connected with bands, and I think that’s a great thing, but also a bit detrimental. Part of what makes certain groups so fascinating is their seemingly untouchable status. The rapidly growing popularity of social media has acted as a massive equalizer, which humanizes musicians, often to the point of shaking off some of their stardust. Of course, there are still a great number of acts intentionally shrouded in misanthropic secrecy, but the age where musicians remained on a pedestal after stepping offstage is fading into nostalgia.

What advice would you have for a woman, or anyone, who wishes to become a metal drummer or journalist? What piece of advice has been most helpful to you?

This might sound cliché, but don’t worry about how being a woman is going to affect you in this industry. Just try your best to be great at what you do and things will fall into place.

If metal drumming is your passion, go after it. I would advise not taking the undemanding route of wearing corsets and heels to get noticed, because while that’s an easy way to get a following, it’ll inevitably pigeonhole you as “that hot chick drummer” no matter how technically virtuosic you are in comparison to your male counterparts. There’s nothing wrong with playing up your strengths, but if you’re operating under the assumption that your greatest asset is your looks, you’re selling yourself short and hurting your musicianship.

My biggest piece of advice for aspiring writers would be to listen to as much music as possible, because having a wealth of material to draw from will enrich your reviews, as well as make you a more reliable source of information. Draw inspiration from your favourite metal scribes without copying them. It can be hard to develop a personal writing style, but the only way to do it is to write as often as you can.

Whether your passion pulls you in the direction of creating music or writing about it, remember to love the process. Money and recognition are great, but if that’s all you’re seeking to attain, you’re cheating yourself out of a genuinely fulfilling career. It’s crucial to remember that if you don’t thrive off the struggle, and you’re solely looking to make a living or garner recognition, you’ll stop growing.

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Rae Amitay is a touring/session drummer, music journalist and social media consultant currently living in Boston, MA. She studied at Berklee College of Music, and received her degree in Professional Music, with an emphasis on drum set performance and music business. When she isn’t writing or interviewing for MetalReview.com, she is playing drums, thinking about playing drums or blast-beating on any surface available to her.

Twitter: @RaepalmDeath
www.raeamitay.com

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Lisa Christiansen

How did your love affair with heavy metal begin? What was your first exposure to the genre and what was your journey to becoming a full-fledged metalhead?

My love affair with metal began where most of them begin: in the suburbs. I was pretty into KISS when I was 12 and used to dress up like Ace Frehley. But then somebody in high school told me about Black Sabbath and that was pretty much it. I don’t think it ever occurred to me that this was a man’s world or anything like that; I just knew it was music that really spoke to me.

I am a music fan into many genres and my favourite band of all time is the Smiths, but I think even there you can see that I have a preference for the darkness and fine guitar work. Metal takes it all to the next level; I like it there.

You have chosen a career that’s quite different from anyone I have interviewed for Girls Don’t Like Metal so far: radio show host. How did you choose that carer path and what was the process getting to where you are now?

I started in journalism as a Vancouver reporter and then went into music writing, only to come to the CBC and go into current affairs. I began working at CBC Radio 3 in 2001 as a producer on their award-winning magazine and then shifted to radio hosting in 2005. At some point, my diverse talents came together and resulted in a job as a radio host.

You are the host of independent heavy metal show Full Metal Podcast. What has the experience of working on that project been like? Is there a particular interview or conversation that stands out in your mind as a favourite?

We play a lot of good hard rock at Radio 3, just not much metal. I understand the decision: it’s not everyone’s taste. That said, I knew there were so many amazing metal bands on our site that weren’t getting heard. I made a case for a separate podcast and was given the go ahead to try it out. I was so pleased with the results and the response. My producer, Marie Bartlett, wasn’t a huge fan at the beginning, but has become a pretty good judge of the music now.

We are up to number six and each one has been such fun to make and all the bands are so very appreciative. As amazing as he is, Devin Townsend said my interview was the first time he had ever spoken to the CBC. I was glad to fix that.

One of my favourite interviews for the metal podcast was Jeff Waters of Annihilator. He is such a talented and generous guy; we had a great chat and then went out to see Lamb of God and Metallica, who were playing that night. I got to meet everyone in both bands; it pays to have good connections! It was a pretty great evening.

Have you ever had a conversation, on the air in particular, where someone took your opinion of heavy metal and music in general less seriously because you were a woman?

I have never had any response except surprise at the fact that I like metal; I don’t look the part at all. That said, I feel I can be a good ambassador for the inclusiveness of the genre. I have never felt I am taken less seriously as a woman and have only ever felt great mutual respect from the artists.

How receptive do you find CBC Radio 3 and the CBC in general to playing heavy metal on the radio? Do you think the radio is doing a good job supporting heavy metal artists in Canada?

Our new music site, CBCMusic.ca, is streaming a lot of metal on the Hard Rock stream, everything from Venom to Kataklysm and Slayer to Megadeth. I try and get a few metal songs on my show as much as possible, and listeners always say they love a little 3 Inches of Blood and Bison B.C. The metal podcasts are also popular with non-metal fans from Radio 3, who like to be exposed to all kinds of music. I find that extremely gratifying.

The Junos have recently reintroduced its awards category honouring heavy metal musicians in Canada. How important do you think this move is when it comes to acknowledging the contributions of Canadian metal artists? What do you think of this year’s nominees?

I was so pleased when I saw the Junos added a metal category. I truly think it is one of the most creative genres of music, which can so easily be overlooked since it doesn’t get a lot of mainstream radio play or exposure. I was quite happy with the nominees too. It’s so nice to see such a huge range of metal, from the more traditional hard rock style of Anvil to the intense and creative KEN Mode.

What do you think is the relationship between live music and radio play? How often do you attend live shows?

Bands don’t need to be part of traditional radio to become successful these days. The Internet has so many more niche options for listening and people discover on their own what and who they want to listen to. It amazes me to get out to a show and see how many people have heard of the bands we play. Bands have a real opportunity now to grow their audiences and they are doing it all extremely well. I attend lots of live shows, but never as many as I would like to. It’s never been a better time to be a music fan.

What advice would you have for a metal-minded woman interested in pursuing a similar career path?

In the words of Henry Rollins: “Don’t think about it, do it!” If you truly love this music, find a way to be part of it: write a blog, start a podcast. You can pretty much do anything now to get your music and message out. And remember, being a woman is your advantage: it makes you rare and exceptional. But then, you knew that already.

Leticia Supple

Leticia Supple is an outspoken and inexhaustible presence in the heavy metal scene. She has her fingers in all sorts of different pies, from music journalism and blogging to PR and promotion. Her blog, Biodagar, is an invaluable resource for musicians and writers alike, as she’s always willing to share advice gleaned from her many years writing about heavy metal. Leticia has even designed an online course for aspiring music writers to follow, and hosts a series of heavy metal podcasts. She has been a great supporter of Girls Don’t Like Metal from the very first interview, and it is an honour to have her included as part of the series!

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You have been a prolific music journalist for years, first with FasterLouder and later with your zine, Metal as Fuck, as well as numerous other publications. Was music journalism always something you wanted to do? How did you make the decision to focus your energy in that direction?

The music industry has been part of my life in one way or another since I was 15 years old. Back then I was part of a local group, part of a bigger organization called The Push. The Push was a Victorian government initiative that sees young people organize drug- and alcohol-free events for underage kids. They are responsible for PushOver, which was a massive festival back in the day. I ended up president of our local branch of The Push, which gave me experience in promotion, gig management, stage management, staff management, radio, budgeting and a whole range of other things. It was absolutely invaluable stuff! You really can’t match experience like that, especially not as a foundation for a music writer, because you begin to understand other sides of the industry. But back then, I envisioned myself in public relations, which, almost a lifetime later, I kind of am heading towards [laughs].

I won’t get into the whys and hows, but I started to take my music journalism seriously when I began to write for FasterLouder. Suddenly I was the go-to for tons of labels’ materials. There weren’t many of us at FasterLouder; the lovely Kay Smoljak (@goatlady) was the nearest peer I had. I had the pleasure of working with her in many capacities years later.

I have always loved writing and with metal in my soul, it just seemed to be the right direction to go in. I feel like I didn’t make any decisions — there was an opportunity that I grasped and then just followed the path that resulted from opening that particular door. That’s pretty much how I live my life: see an opportunity, grab it, see where it takes me. Planning comes later.

You have always specialized in heavy metal music writing and have identified that as your clear area of interest, leaving FasterLouder when they cut back on their metal coverage. What is it about heavy metal that captures your attention and inspires you to write about it?

It struck me just last week what it is about metal and metalheads, as opposed to nearly any other genre. You can enjoy a lot of genres of music, often because it’s catchy or rockin’ or good fun, but metal wraps itself around you and feeds your soul. It’s why a lot of metalheads talk about “metal finding me”; it’s like you have come home. It just feels right.

I suppose, if I analyze it, that metal has always been one of those genres that is exciting for me. It is musically enticing; it can be mellow, technical, aggressive, heavy as hell and as beautiful as anything. Musicians in metal are so often virtuosic, and it is so dramatically maligned and misunderstood by the general population. It is also something that makes people inveterately curious. Just the other day I got asked on the train, “Why does a girl like you listen to that stuff? Isn’t it very masculine?” Happily, the questioner wanted to engage in an intelligent discussion of rock and metal history, and left the conversation with a greater understanding.

Metal is a field that utilizes a lot of fans as critics, which is great. As a writer grounded in critique, my goal has always been to “raise the bar” in some way. Metal is not only the most deserving genre in which to do this, but is the only genre that works for me.

You offer one of the most unique resources I have seen on a music writer’s blog: Music Journalism 101, a free online course now being reformatted into an ebook. What inspired you to draft this course? How successful has it been?

I honestly have no idea how successful it has been. I so rarely get feedback on my work that I kind of stopped thinking about it. I could count on one hand how many times someone has said, “Wow, that helped me.” Generally I think it has been successful. The small amounts of feedback from people that I have received have been very positive.

Amazingly, the course has been referenced in postgraduate research here in Australia, so that really speaks to me, indicating its value to the field. I put it together because I realized that while you can study journalism and you can study criticism, there was nothing (at the time, anyway) that was specific to the nitty-gritty of metal music journalism, as written by someone living and breathing it. So I went through the art of interrogation (i.e., interviews), the basis of research (which is something a lot of people forget), basic critical principles and the niceties of how to write up materials.

A lot of people forget that the vast majority of reviews are written by fans who “fall into” the field, who don’t have any training and who get very little mentoring. Every little bit that I can add to the field, if it helps just one person, is personally satisfying. I am first and foremost a writer and editor, and I always want to pass knowledge on for the greater good, as it were.

Those people who have found the course useful repeatedly ask for the ebook. It needs updating before I can release it, and that’s just a matter of time. My plan is to have it completed before the end of the fiscal year, fingers crossed!

Do you think that heavy metal music journalism, specifically written metal coverage, differs from other types of music journalism in any key ways?

Not really. The only real difference is that metal fans are, generally, rabid. You don’t tend to get Pink or Lady Gaga fans who collect everything on CD, DVD and vinyl, along with figurines, merch, etc., who read every review, every interview and so on. Metal fans do.

That’s why research skills are absolutely vital. There is no point, for example, in asking the same questions on an album promotion cycle as every other journalist. The same goes for asking about key issues that have been covered in the media before, even if “before” is 20 years ago.

It also requires an appreciation for a variety of sub-genres, which is quite demanding. You don’t need to be au fait with all of them, just aware of them and how they influence each other.

In a sense, one’s general knowledge of metal needs to be quite tight. Fans call you out if it isn’t. Most music journalists in other areas, excluding speciality genres, typically aren’t bound by such demands.

While heavy metal is very much an international music scene, with bands touring the world and fans across the globe regularly communicating with each other, the Australian and New Zealand scenes are still somewhat isolated. How do you think the music scene there differs from the scene in Canada?

I firmly believe that some of the most intense metal comes from the more isolated parts of the world. Or, as I prefer to call it, “the arse-end of the world.” That’s why you get some really amazing bands from parts of Australia and New Zealand. Creatively, they are more isolated, and so tend to be less influenced by other bands.

In Australia, like in many places, each city has a different sound, and each regional area has a different sound. The big difference is that these areas are so far apart. I’m in central Australia and it still takes me something like three or three-and-a-half hours to fly to Perth. If I wanted to drive to Melbourne, it would take me eight hours or more. Of course, each city, being so isolated, focuses on its own thing. You can have power metal bands play in Melbourne, for instance, but you’d be lucky to get 50 paid to a show like that in Adelaide. And in Brisbane, you get fantastic, brutal death metal. In places like Broken Hill (look it up to see how remote it is), you get bands like Soulforge: international-standard bands with very few people to play to. They are fantastically good.

As well, unlike North America, our music industry is really obscenely limited. The metal scene is still small, comparatively speaking, and gaining access to bigger labels is difficult.

In terms of the Australian underground, it’s really supportive in and of itself. Bands like Stargazer, Mournful Congregation, Cauldron Black Ram, Destruktor, Gospel of the Horns, Ignivomous, etc., their fans will travel to see them, from Brisbane to Melbourne, Sydney to Adelaide, Perth to the ends of the country. It helps that the underground bands play less often.

My experience with Canadian metal is one of pure amazement — not one bad Canadian band can I name. And Anvil! You should see my Anvil collection [laughs]! Other than that, I can’t really comment, not having experienced it firsthand.

The really big difference is that people outside of Australia know of bands like Psycroptic, because they “made it”, along with groups like Destroyer666 or Blood Duster. It’s a bloody lot harder for Australians to gain recognition offshore, despite how well-known some of our underground bands are, like Mournful Congregation, for example.

What are your favourite Australian bands that you think deserve more coverage from the metal community at large?

Wow, big question; this is so hard to answer! Here’s a stack for you to start with:

Soulforge

Innsmouth

Cauldron Black Ram

Destruktor

Stargazer

Defamer

Ignivomous

Johnny Touch

Mournful Congregation

I could go on and on.

You’ve recently started a series of metal podcasts. What has been your experience with this format so far? What do you think a podcast can do in terms of journalism that traditional interviews can’t? Has the series been successful?

The series, which I pulled down to move to another location (though it has yet to happen, but hopefully will this week!) has focused on a series of articles I wrote with Tom Valcanis. We are writing essays on critical rock journalism, with the stated intention of publishing, if we find the right publisher. Tom is very academic in his work and I’m more practical/critical, coming from a background of critique.

The feedback we have had has been absolutely excellent; we even started getting enquiries from academics in the field. I think the key thing that podcasts can do is bring a voice and expression to something that people otherwise skip over. I had, for example, posted the essays online ages before we started podcasting them and it’s after the podcasts that people started to get excited.

It could be that podcasts are something you can listen to while you do other things, so that’s also another benefit that simply publishing work doesn’t have. It allows you to capture that modern day essence of not having any time by allowing people the luxury of taking your work to other places. It also allows you to include material that may not fit into a feature interview. I know that many of my interviews are massively scaled down to fit into feature writing. In a podcast, you have the ability to use a lot more of the jokes, chatting and camaraderie    that a good conversation generates.

Feedback has mostly been good on these. One colleague commented that the podcasts drew her attention so much that she simply couldn’t do anything else. I’ve had trollers, too: people who have said that I sound like a librarian reading to a school class, that sort of shit. Haters gonna hate, and those who appreciate seem to do so in quiet happiness.

You’ve become a passionate supporter of fellow female metal writers online, especially on Twitter. What do you hope to bring to the conversation about women and heavy metal? What do you think are the most important issues facing women who participate in the metal scene in any capacity?

I hate to disappoint you, but it’s entirely unintentional. I support cool, intelligent people — gender is totally out of my focus. If you rock, we’re on; if you suck, we’re off.

I have never been a supporter of feminist ideologies, feminist ideologues or gender-based discussions in general. I have always, ever since I was a tiny kid, lived with the attitude that anybody can do anything and the only thing that stops them is their personal perspective. You want to do something? Make it happen. No excuse on Earth will justify you missing out on something, except the fact that you didn’t try.

In fact, at university, surrounded by feminists and girls getting everything, and boys getting nothing, I became a passionate supporter of men’s rights. Why should we have a special room with free cups of coffee simply because we’re chicks? It’s the totally wrong way to look at life. Having said that, I have become more sympathetic to the sisterhood; I think that’s something that has come with age.

In terms of metal, the question reminds me of a quiet discussion I had with Angela Gossow [Arch Enemy]. We were chatting at a meet-and-greet, at her request, following an interview we’d done, and we were surrounded by what you’d most likely describe as “salivating males.” I was the only other female at the meet-and-greet, which was disappointing. My experience of most metal shows in Adelaide is that the gender split is damn near 60/40. Angela was, as you’d expect, skeptical at my statement of this type of gender balance, it not being in evidence at all. In the local scene, the atmosphere has always been one of siblings of true metal, if you like.

Honestly, the most abuse I’ve ever received has been at the hands of other girls: from fans of bands to industry workers. What’s with that? All of my greatest supporters in the industry have been men. Chicks get really upset with other girls’ successes, it seems. Unlike the lovely Grim Kim, who gets hit with those shitty comments like, “Oh, you’re with the band,” because she’s so often at the pointy end.

I’ve only had serious gender issues once, and that’s when I said no to a large promoter here in Australia when he wanted advertising for free at Metal as Fuck. Very few people stand up to him, and he just couldn’t stand it that it was a woman who stood up to him. Tough titties, baby, everyone gets the same treatment from me. To quote Gene Simmons: “It’s not music friendship, it’s music business.”

The most important thing that I want to contribute to the discussion of chicks and metal is this: the thing limiting you is yourself. If you think being a chick is stopping you, then you need to work out whether that’s actually the case or whether you find it easier to place the blame somewhere else. Deep personal thought is not the forte of most people.

Also: the best revenge is success. More people argue with you when you are successful, more people want to cut you down, but that’s because you’re a tall poppy. Shit happens, focus on what you want to achieve and move on.

In this regard, the most important issue facing women in metal today is, regardless of their work in the industry, one of self-confidence and self-belief. Now that I’m in my 30s, it’s become something that I struggle with. It’s that whole notion of the wise man knowing what he doesn’t know. The older I get, the more acutely aware I become of what I don’t know.

I’m not a metal geek; I never have been and, luckily, never pretended I was. I am, however, surrounded by the bastards! It makes me feel completely, utterly inadequate and has on numerous occasions caused me to believe I should give up. This happens more the older I get, but I don’t give up because I know that this is my issue. What I don’t know, I research; I talk to people. Funnily enough, I can speak and write knowledgeably because my love of metal is in my soul and that’s all that counts. So what if I don’t recall album dates and titles, or lineups and labels, or have perfect recall of the titles of each song on my favourite albums? If I feel like I can’t contribute, I don’t speak. Better to have people think I’m ignorant than open my mouth and apparently prove it.

So, ladies, walk the walk, respect yourself, stand up for yourself and stand up for your opinion. If the boys can’t take it, big deal. Most men in metal respect us, enjoy conversing with us and appreciate our work.

There has been a recent surge in sexist, racist and otherwise unacceptable statements being made on mainstream metal blogs, such as Metal Sucks‘ coverage of Trish Doan returning to Kittie and a Lambgoat interview with Chelsea Grin, where the interviewer refers to very young female fans of the band as “groupies.”  What do you see as the possible cause/catalyst/motivation for this disturbing trend?

In all honesty, I strongly believe that this rise has happened because everyone is a keyboard warrior. The internet, as much as I adore it (especially for meeting cats like you!), has a lot to answer for, in term

s of reducing people’s empathy, causing outpourings of comments that the vast majority of people would never say aloud. It feels private and so people act like it is. Let’s be honest: people who say this sort of thing to other people in real life lose friends really quickly.

There is still an issue with mainstream metal media pretending that metal audiences are predominantly male; it isn’t like that any more! Huge numbers of key people in the industry are women. The Vice President of Publicity and Advertising at Metal Blade is a woman, key staff at Earache are women, lots of promoters are women and, increasingly, there are more women in bands and writing for publications. As a result of what I’ll refer to as “standard” thinking, as opposed to “old school” thinking, much marketing (and, yes, labels are also to blame) is driven to portray women in a way that simply engenders this type of thing. Sex sells, baby. Especially in Western societies now facing greater repression. It must be something primal — I don’t know. I’ve just noticed it more lately, even in mainstream product advertising, whereas before it was a little more intelligently subtle.

If an editor is mindful, aware and intelligent, shit like this doesn’t happen, because it is unacceptable. If writers are mentored effectively, they know it’s not acceptable; they know that they have a standard to meet.

I love Metal Sucks, but that piece on Doan was just juvenile. Sure, she’s cute, but commenting on her body in the way they did is completely unnecessary and divides the audience. Vast numbers of women read Metal Sucks — all my favourite metal women read Metal Sucks. Editors need to learn that harsh editing is always justified when it removes material that doesn’t add anything useful or will reduce your standing with your readership. That Doan piece flapped around like a dying pigeon, in all honesty. “Wow she’s cute, let’s talk about her body, but, um, yeah we have a point to make about a new band member.” Ugh.

But referring to a musician as a cutie isn’t sexist to me; it is when it becomes the focus of a piece in general, as it did here, that it becomes a problem. I think Lemmy is one of the goddamn sexiest men on Earth. He’s old! He’s ugly! He is so full of charisma that he’s sexy as hell. That doesn’t mean I’d spend all my journalistic kudos writing about it. What a waste of my time and everyone else’s. All it does is turn the writer into a juvenile with nothing better, or of worth, to say.

In terms of female fans being referred to as “groupies,” I think the term has kind of lost its definition. Young cats don’t understand what a groupie actually is. The definition of “groupie” is a follower, especially a female, of a band or celebrity who hopes to get to know said band or celebrity, or “an enthusiastic or uncritical follower.” Groupies have also been called fan girls and fan boys in other types of media. By its technical definition, most drooling, hardcore fans are groupies. But then “groupies” started to refer to young chicks who hung around primarily to fuck band members and get reflected glory from their peers because of their actions. They’re also known as hangers-on, freeloaders and so on.

That other article used the term right, for the intention, it seems; the positive thing is how it was turned around to focus on the fan base, not on the actions of a section of fans. To be honest, if the interviewer had had any sense, he wouldn’t have asked this question or would have rephrased it. It’s pretty rough to talk about groupies with someone who, in the same interview, talks about fatherhood and the impact touring can have on one’s relationship with one’s children. I hate to point this out to people but metalheads are getting older. They have partners, kids, mortgages — life moves on.

In terms of commentary appearing around the web that is sexist, racist, defamatory, etc., honestly most people who write this shit are trollers. I had it happen to me. I had it happen to my writers. I had to block people, which I bloody hate doing, because it silences them. In some cases, I had trollers start to email me to give my writers shit. Trollers do what they do simply because they enjoy, or find funny, the act of being an arsehole. These people behind comments online are generally sitting in their homes being nasty for the sake of it because it gets them attention. It means that they are children.

The cure to this? Stop giving them attention. Like children, they (eventually) go away.

Throughout your career as a writer and editor, you have shown yourself to be a leader, someone who wants to assist and instruct other journalists and editors. What crucial advice do you have for any new writer or editor heading down a similar path?

Wow, advice. There is so much I could say. I’m happy to give people advice, by email, by the way, if anyone has any specific queries.

Here is a tiny bit from my arsenal:

Training. The best way to learn to write is to read. Read, read, read, read, read.

Use. Plain. English. Lots of writers fill their work with adjectives. Adjectives are boring, convoluted and obscure what you are trying to say. It’s harder to say what you want to say simply than it is to fill your writing with a lot of words that mean fuck-all. Say what you mean to say and do it simply. Your readers will thank you.

Spell and punctuate correctly, and write properly. Good writing is essential. Nobody will read profound works if they’re tripping over all of the errors, so do your readers a favour.

Be honest and back up what you say. Don’t know the band? Say so. Don’t like something? Tell us, and tell us why. You only gain respect through honesty. If you lie, it will catch up to you.

Stand up for opinions that you publish. If you don’t, nobody will respect you or support you.

Remember that the best critique is still an opinion. Don’t get aggro or arrogant about your opinion. Everyone’s opinion is different. You just happen to have yours published. Respect your readers.

Editors: your writers are your goldmine. Nurture them. Train them. Mentor them. Give them guidelines and make damn sure they know your standards. Edit their work, harshly if it needs it and communicate what you did and why you did it. Complain to them if their work is shit and tell them how to improve it! Nobody does it enough. It takes a lot of time, but gradually your writing team will be the golden mesh holding your publication together. Without them, you and your publication are nothing.

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Leticia is a 30-something writer based in Adelaide, South Australia. She writes music criticism and essays, blogs about the music industry and metal in general, founded Metal as Fuck, and is now a publicist for a handful of artists. She is also a novice belly dancer and loves good friends, good life and good beer.

Twitter: @biodagar

Zena Tsarfin

Since entering the world of journalism as an intern at High Times at the age of 19, Zena Tsarfin has made a name for herself as both a writer and an editor. She has worked for such notable online publications as Cracked, XXL, Revolver and even had a stint as an Assistant Editor at Marvel Comics. She has contributed innumerable articles to heavy metal and other music publications over the course of her career, and has always been a vocal and engaging fan of heavy music. Zena maintains an active online presence through her culture blog, Zena Metal Wants to Conquer the World, and her Twitter feed. Zena’s ferocity, passion and eloquence have always impressed me, and I am thrilled that she has agreed to be a part of Girls Don’t Like Metal.

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You have been a life-long metalhead — by your account, you started listening to metal when you were 11 years old. How do you think that this music and culture have defined your personality, as well as your career?

Metal was my first obsession — the thing I was most passionate about — even as I discovered different types of music. Metal is the ultimate shorthand — you’re able to start conversations with anyone from around the world and any walk of life based on the band T-shirt they’re wearing. Outside of metal, that’s extremely rare; it made me feel like I was part of an elite, underground culture.

In junior high school social studies class, we were asked to do a report on “big business” or some kind of industry. I chose magazine publishing, cold-called the Hit Parader offices and interviewed someone who turned out to be extremely helpful and friendly. I got an A on the report and soon laid out my master plan: I was going to move to Manhattan, become a magazine editor and get into Slayer shows for free. I did all that by the time I was 25. Eventually, I moved on to work at titles like XXL, where being a metalhead was a frequently referenced novelty, but lent a “tough chick” connotation to my reputation as an effective manager.

Over the course of your long history with heavy metal, how have you seen it change and evolve, especially in regards to the way women are treated and accepted?

When I was younger, female fans were definitely an anomaly. These days, girls are schooling guys and showing up in droves to all the good underground metal shows. Knowledgeable, beautiful women are dominating all aspects of the scene, from their presence in bands to booking shows and running mini-media empires. There’s really no choice but to accept them.

In addition to doing an internship, you had two stints as the Managing Editor at High Times. What was it about that publication that kept drawing you back?

There’s a unique vibe to that place that has always made it feel like an eclectic, amazing, sometimes dysfunctional family. I was 19 when I first started there, so I literally grew up around the staff, and also know their audience well. Plus, High Times has proven to be one the few recession-proof publications out there, especially with medical legalization slowly taking hold in the U.S.

I still contribute to the magazine and hightimes.com as often as I can. And if I smell good herb at a show, I always tweet about it from their account.

You have adapted extraordinarily well to the changing climate of music journalism, having diverse interests and writing for a variety of publications, while also splitting your time between online content and writing for print. Can you talk a bit about your professional writing strategy?

I’ve always joked that my career is based on things boys like: Marvel Comics, High Times, Revolver, Decibel, Guitar World, XXL, Cracked.com, Superdeluxe.com. If boys like it, I’ve worked on it. But, honestly, it’s not a strategy as much as it is learning to adjust your skill set to a different form of media. I went to journalism school, so I cut my teeth on the old-time values of reporting, fact-checking and ethics. That background was imperative and translates no matter what faction of media one is involved with. My various interests, like metal and hip hop, comics and toy culture, provide the subject matter and from there I consider which audience would most appreciate reading about it.

These days, because of my day job demands, I tend to really pick and choose what I’ll take time to write about, both for print and various sites. Writing about Eyehategod for High Times recently meant a lot; they’re a revered band that I adore and they really deserve to be in the spotlight.

You have strong ties to Revolver magazine, both as a writer and founding editor, and it’s a publication that has come under fire for the way female musicians are depicted between its covers. What are your thoughts on features like “The Hottest Chicks In Hard Rock?”

Personally, I think it’s an antiquated concept. It’s as silly to grant coverage to an undeserving act because they have a woman in the band as it is to reduce serious musicians to airbrushed lingerie models. A few years ago, it inspired the ladies at Reign in Blonde to take the piss out of it with a bracket competition where they ranked the cutest metal boys. I’d love to see more creative satire like that. 

From an editorial standpoint, I understand how it’s a compelling theme for Revolver. For one thing, it keeps them buzz-worthy on blogs and Twitter for weeks surrounding “The Hottest Chicks in Hard Rock” issue’s release. They count on the metal community’s outrage to keep them current — any press is good press. But it’s difficult to read personal attacks on their Editor-in-Chief, especially coming from people I respect. There’s an institution behind the brand’s decisions, so scapegoating the Editor-in-Chief is misguided.

As a prolific journalist, it can often be difficult to balance the needs of the publications you have relationships with and the bands you work with. How do you manage this?

No matter what, I try to remain honest about my opinion of the music. I remember being a kid with limited means scouring magazines looking for the next big thing and really putting stock in what I read. Now it’s my responsibility to report the story and not worry about making a band seem a certain way for the sake of their, or the publication’s, fan base. If you can’t, it’s a conflict of interest and you shouldn’t be doing the story in the first place.

Do you consider music journalism a creative practice?

It’s a craft and crafting is most definitely a creative practice. It’s a challenge to present a linear narrative, introduce history and facts, carry a story and, ultimately, make someone care long enough to read more than 200 words into any article. That takes practice, study and skill.

What is it about heavy metal music that so draws and captivates you? Why do you think that metalheads become such notoriously rabid fans of the music that they love?

The loudness and audaciousness of it all are what pull me in. Once it gets under your skin, metal becomes all-consuming and you’re in it for life.

If you had the opportunity to mentor a young writer who was hoping to build a career in music journalism and content creation, what sage advice would you impart to them? What pitfalls would you help them avoid?

Learn the craft of writing first. You need to learn the rules before you can break them. It probably wouldn’t hurt to know coding either. Be open to criticism, always remain professional and don’t feel entitled, especially when you’re just starting out.

What aspect of your career are you most proud of?

Surviving and thriving in this field despite the unstable climate. That and Bruce Dickinson knows who I am.

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Zena Tsarfin is the Online Content Director at Clear Channel NY, and a veteran of the publishing and music worlds. An experienced editor, writer and social media strategist, her work has been published in Terrorizer, High Times, Revolver, Guitar World, XXL, Playgirl and Alternative Press, among others. In her free time, she enjoys going to shows, making mainstream celebs do “the Claw,” obsessing over cat memes, Jameson whiskey and guys named Thorns.

Follow her on Twitter: @zenametal. And on-line: zenametal.com.