CARNIFEX// Here’s What Scott Knows

Cannibal Corpse isn’t a group of licensed physicians. Neither is Malevolent Creation. If they were, I sure as shit wouldn’t want them near my red-hot toxic spleen. Please Mr Webster, step away from the toolbox. So why in the fuck are death metal bands conjuring tunes inspired by extreme and botched surgeries fit for “what is sure to be a shocking” edition of Fox News? Scott Lewis growls for a death metal band. He calls the band Carnifex. Well yes, thanks for pointing that out: they are indeed a deathcore band more than plain ole “death metal”. (Did you really say that out loud? In public?) Here’s what Scott knows:

“Extreme metal bands write these fantastic lyrics that aren’t really relatable,” he begins, live from his San Diego compound. “They sound great, they’re gory and they’re shocking, but there’s nothing there anybody can connect with. I mean, nobody is chopping anyone up with a chainsaw, you know?”

Not that we know of, anyway. Besides, this isn’t 1990s Norway: this is 2010s San Diego. San Diego is an exit on the highway to the danger zone. San Diego stays classy, even when told to go fuck itself. Unlike milk, Carnifex is a quality choice. Back one summer of 2012, your corner store was clean out of Carnifex. That is, the boys burnt themselves out. A smoking wreck where once a strong deathcore band stood.

“When we made the decision to take the break, we didn’t know that we would ever be coming back,” says Scott. “Personally, I didn’t think we would. I felt that was going to be the end.”

If Carnifex had slowly lowered into six feet of deep, we would chisel this into their headstone: Four studio albums in as many years. Riding shotgun alongside The Black Dahlia Murder, Suffocation, and Parkway Drive through 22 countries. Three dudes out of five with bitchin’ metal manes. It was madness to walk away, double-secret madness to keep going.

“We had a lot of problems on the business end of things,” Scott continues. “I was feeling a lot of issues in my own personal life. When you tour at our level, where you’re a band and you’re making nothing for seven years? Being broke the entire time is a good way to get burned out.”

Carnifex slipped a couple cheeky fingers up touring every chance they could. When touring didn’t spread wide with a bit of cash, it felt like one big dry hump. FOR SEVEN YEARS. Talk about misery by the dashboard light.

“It wasn’t that we fell out of love with making music,” Scott clarifies. “I certainly didn’t walk away from being creative. The whole time that we were inactive as a band, in my own career I was writing, making music, and still staying active.”

If you’re one of those “b-b-but music should be free” assholes, try eating a sandwich with Meshuggah for bread and blast-beats for filling. Reach for your belt son, a growling stomach is right around the corner.

“It was more we didn’t know what type of opportunity, if any, we would have,” Scott explains. “Thankfully, we were in a position where we were able to look at other labels. Shawn, our drummer who does the majority of the song writing, continued to write during the break, which worked out really well. When we made the decision to do another album, he actually had all this material all ready. It made the writing process pretty good.”

Scott, in the past, suggested Carnifex’ tunage was the kind of “grindcore you could sing along to”.

“I think we replaced the word ‘sing-along’,” he corrects. “We saw it as something that is relatable. It gets stuck in your head. If you look at a grindcore band, it’s very chaotic and all over the place. There isn’t really much melody or hook there. What we try to do is have the intensity, have the speed, have the brutality of grindcore but still have a melody which gets you tapping your foot and really makes you want to listen to the song again and again.”

Carnifex’ hearts sink as they release stuff to see it smear down a fucknut’s window. Assholes on YouTube, everywhere, are “cutting” Carnifex down with grammatical grommets fit for toilet bowls. How many look Scott in the eye and actually hiss, “You suck”?

“Do you know how many times someone actually came up to me, personally, and criticised me? Zero.”

“I can’t remember how many people we’ve ever played in front of.” Scott’s steaming up. “It’s probably a big number. Do you know how many times someone actually came up to me, personally, and criticised me? Zero. Nobody ever told me my band was horrible to my face. Never, not even once. I’ve never had any person walk up to me at a show, at the merch table, out of the band, when you get offstage, and say anything rude or hateful or what you see on the internet. Never one.”

So what does that make him think?

“What does that make me think?” he snaps! “It makes me think it’s just a bunch of complaining complainers bitching on the internet. It’s confusing and I don’t understand it. They’re out there somewhere. Apparently, they don’t go to shows though. I mean, I’ve never met any of them.”

Elations of Death Metal

Gracious glances towards the sparkle and eyes of m-m-melody raise the hackles of beefwads and deathbros. Death metal is serious business, so say the keepers of the seven keyboards. Carnifex are laid-back dudes and will be your best pal. So why does the oh-so-serious perception persist?

“I don’t know the answer to that,” Scott admits. “I would probably say because those people don’t know any of those musicians personally. If you look at a band like Cannibal Corpse, if you look at their albums, strictly their albums, they’re all very serious. Their music is certainly meant to be taken very seriously. You look at the actual people behind all that, they’re all very fun-loving guys. I think there’s a time and a place to goof off. You have serious musicians who have a passion for their music. That creates intensity in their music. That’s the time when they’re focused and they’re making sure they put their best foot forward.”

Yes! A gangrenous foot forward. Tendons dangling over the River Styx. Blood rains down from meat and limb. //