Bloodhorse

 






Bloodhorse didn't have a name or a singer when a friend booked their first gig. But it didn't stop them.

With Alex Garcia Rivera on the drums, and Matt Woods and Adam Wentworth on bass and guitar respectively, Bloodhorse brings to the table some serious melody metal.



Chief Magazine: How did you three first link-up?

Adam Wentworth: Matt and I met through a mutual friend at a local record store years ago, and he and I have been playing together in various bands since then. We met Alex when he sat in on drums for a band we were playing in at the time, and though he ended up leaving that band, we kept in touch from there.

Sometimes band chemistry doesn’t always work. Maybe he had other commitments.

It seems everyone in Boston is in multiple bands. It’s a fairly incestuous scene. But yeah, Alex had other obligations at the time, so we split and did our own things for a while.

But Bloodhorse somehow drew Alex back, right?

Well, the three of us really clicked in the short time we had previously been playing together. We’d always play “Space Truckin’” at practice and sort of established a common point for us. I think it was about a year later that he called up Matt to see about playing for the hell of it. None of us had much going on band-wise at the time, but Matt and I had some songs we’d been throwing around and we brought those to Alex. We had no idea what he’d think of the material, but he seemed really into it, so we kept playing. And that was the start of what would become Bloodhorse.

What year was that?

We formed in the beginning of 2005. That’s when we first started playing together as a three piece.

How did you know it was going to be Bloodhorse?

We practiced for roughly a year in the basement. We were just enjoying the experience. There was no plan or goal, really. None of us had ever been in a three-piece before and the chemistry was really good. We never intended for Matt and me to be singing. We always said that “We’ll do this or that once we find a singer and blah blah blah,” but we never got around to looking for one.
 
But when it finally clicked, you realized this was going to be more than sessions in the basement?

The point when things really started getting defined was when we were offered a show through a friend who booked shows. We had a bunch of songs, but no name or singer, and said yes anyway. The show was a month and a half away, and it basically put us on a timeline to get things in order.

The pressure was on and you dug deep for a name?

It came down to a flyer for the show and the promoter needed a name, or else he was going to make some fake name for us. So we said we’d get him a name by the next day. Alex had this old Ford Bronco he’s modified with 30” tires for off-roading. It was basically like a street legal monster truck. But we’d always joke about how you could drive over cars and pedestrians with it and over time dubbed it “The Bloodhorse.” We figured that sounded good enough given the circumstances, so that’s how we came to be called Bloodhorse.

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So the three of you officially became Bloodhorse.

Yes. We still didn’t have a singer, though. We were really happy with the chemistry in the band, and adding anyone else would have disrupted that, so we decided to try it ourselves. Matt and I got stuck with the singing duties, figuring we’d both be terrible singers instead of letting all the heat fall on one guy. If we didn’t think singer drummers were so lame, I’m sure Alex would have had a mic in front of him as well. We wrote some lyrics and tried singing for the first time.

When and where was the first gig?

December 28, 2005. I don’t know why I remember that date exactly, but that was it, right after Christmas. It was at a place in Boston called Great Scott.

How did it go?

It was cool. A lot of friends came out so it had a nice atmosphere, real loose. But yeah, it went really well. It wasn’t as terrible as we thought it was going to be.

And the vocals?

I think it went well for our first try, though I’m sure we had them buried in the mix. We think we’re both terrible singers. But people haven’t told us to our face that we totally suck, so we keep on doing it. We’re content. It is what it is, the new material we’ve been singing together. Individually, we’re not overly confident with our voices, but together we form this sort of other voice that we’re much happier with. We try to approach it like an instrument or texture instead of a lead. To quote ECW [Extreme Champion Wrestling] creator Paul Heyman, “Accentuate the positives. Hide the negatives.”
 
There's another band from Texas called Bloodhorse. Do folks get you guys confused?

I am aware of them, but it’s never been an issue that’s been brought to our attention. All three of us have had encounters with bands sharing the same name with our previous groups, some even getting to the point of lawsuits, but it not something we ever think about. I feel that both bands are operating within a DIY mentality. Neither of are touring much, and if I remember correctly, they are more of a crusty punk band. They are technically “The Bloodhorse,” I don’t know if “The” even makes a difference, but it doesn’t seem like anyone really cares.  There’s been no communication between the bands, so it hasn’t been something we’re thinking about.

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Adam, you also work as a graphic designer. [Actually, he's done illustrations for past issues of Chief: here and here.] And the graphics on your album are pretty psychedelic. Describe the unassuming aesthetic and how you work with your music. Does everybody contribute?

We take a lot from Horror and Western films from the 70’s--both for lyrical themes and the process and ethics of doing more with less. Dario Argento, Sergio Leone, Mario Bava, Lucio Fulchi are all big influences, and the artwork for our releases thus far has been derived from that. Matt and Alex tend to give me a lot of freedom with the art, but as with any aspect of the band everyone has to be on the same page. No one is pushing their ideas on anyone else who may not be as enthusiastic about it. We all need to be excited about it. I wanted to stay away from the usual “stoner/doom/metal” route for the imagery for various reasons. It can give a nice contrast upon first look/listen, but at the same time, the art is taken from the same things we’re writing about. It’s all related.

The EP is set to be released prior to the publishing of this issue and that must be exciting.

I’m looking at finished copies right now. The record’s been done for so long [laughs]. We’ve been sitting on top of them for months now, but it comes out in a few days from now, so we’re all excited about that.

How did Translation Loss Records pick you guys up? How much freedom are they giving you in terms of presentation?

TL is based out of Philadelphia. I’ve known Drew Juergens for years, from when he was with Relapse. He’s become a very close friend of mine. When I stopped touring with bands a lot and started focusing more on design and art he was one of the few people I kept in touch with. I sent him some demos just to show him what I’d been up to, because I was excited about how the material was coming along. We had started recording an EP with the idea of releasing it ourselves, but we played with Drew’s band and gave him what we’d done on the record so far.  He came back after that and basically said, “We really like what you’re doing. What would you think about doing the record with us?”

We all like the way they run Translation Loss, and because of our friendship, we felt like it would be a good fit. There’s a mutual respect for each other, so there’s not really any interference from anywhere. We just do our own thing, and it’s been great.

There is a turning back of sorts with your sound. You call it the “ethics of the old guard.” Does that mean that from the process to the product that everything is sort of done by hand and in such a way as to avoid trends?

It is, in some ways, in the spirit of not relying on anyone else to do anything for you. We bought analog studio gear and have been teaching ourselves how to record, because if we have a recording we aren’t happy with, we’d much rather hold ourselves accountable than to blame someone else and have that feeling that you’ve been screwed or failed in some way. Also, the process of learning as we go, and being able to see the progress we make is in some ways more gratifying than the product. I feel like that sense of craft is lost on a lot of our generation. Half the charm of the records and movies we look to for influence is because they occupy a time and place, and that is lost with a lot of newer records. So much seems shoved in your face and disposable nowadays. This is too important to us not to spend the time on it.

Where does Bloodhorse take its storytelling cues from? Influences like Milton, Dante or the Bible have been cited in the past.

We’re not making any direct allusions to the Bible. We don’t have any agenda in that regard, but the references to the Bible and Dante is for the way it is written. For hundreds of years, the life of a story was dependent on its ability to be passed on by word of mouth. That sort of delivery resonates with people. Keeping things concise is more likely to have that idea or theme stay in someone’s mind, as opposed to overcomplicating it. Leaving room for interpretation allows for a more interactive experience. When things are explained word for word and dumbed down, it cheapens it. It also lets us sing less.

Music is fundamental in film, however it could be assumed that the medium has not really been explored in terms of its effects on music. How do the Spaghetti Westerns and iconic auteurs (Argento, Polanski) affect the band’s consciousness, content, and evolution?

In the sense of keeping the music and lyrics relative, we tend to let the song dictate what it’s going to be about. I know that’s sort of a cheesy cliché, but we’ll talk about any images or moods that come to mind while we’re working on new material.

"Il Treno a Tucumcari" – What’s happening in that track?

When we wrote that song, the middle section brought to mind an old train passing through a desolate area. Lyrically, it’s based on "For A Few Dollars More". "The Train to Tucumcari" is how it’s literally translated. It’s based on [Lee] Van Cleef’s character as Colonel Douglas Mortimer. Van Cleef is chasing Indio to avenge the murder of his sister, whereas Clint Eastwood’s character is after the money. And it’s approached with the idea that this avenging of his sister and bringing Indio to justice becomes a religion for him.

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How do you communicate such messages to an audience that is often bombarded with regurgitated sounds without much substance?

That’s not something we’re overly concerned with. If people get it, they get it. If not, that’s fine. We’re really selfish as a band, and we’re going to do something regardless of whether we think most people will understand it. We’ve driven many a show-goer out of the room, and that’s a form of success.  You’ve raised a reaction out of someone. And conversely, there are sometimes people who will pick up on really minute details and come and talk to us about it afterwards. And that’s success too. We’d rather be in the extremes of people’s opinions. As for audience members that are just there for the social aspect of shows, those tend to be the ones leaving during our set to go have a cigarette or just to get away, so it all sort of works itself out.

What’s with the gong?

The gong has a long story behind it. Matt and I were looking through this Who book, and Alex mentioned he’d got way more back from taxes than he expected. We were open to a picture of Keith Moon holding his gong outside their studio, and we said, ‘You should just get a gong with that money.’ We didn’t really expect him to do it, but a week or so later we walked into our practice space and there was a gong sitting there.

And now he’s on his third gong?

The one he has now is totally custom made for him. The other two were smaller and weren’t loud enough. It didn’t have the thunderous roar we wanted. He got in touch with Wuhan Factory in China and they said, “Yeah we’ll build you a 40-inch wind gong.” He wired them money for it. It seemed really sketchy and for about three months we we’re joking, saying, “That money is gone and that gong is never showing up.” But he got a call from someone at the wharf saying there was a large package just off a boat from China that he had to come pick up. And there it was.

How about our death question?  Was there ever a time when you thought, “Shit, I’m not going to live through this”?

There are two times, one as a band and another on my own.

The band?

It was not with Bloodhorse. It was with a band I formerly played with. We were on tour with two other bands, playing at a pizza place in Alabama, and had nowhere to stay that night.  During the course of the show, I had managed to get my headstock caught in the wires of the PA that ran over the stage. I pulled over a bunch of stuff and thought I broke it. I went up to the sound guy afterwards to apologize. He was really cool about it and said he didn’t think anything was broken, but he mentioned he had overheard us saying we didn’t have a place to stay. I told him there were 17 of us on the tour, and he said “That’s fine, I have house you all can stay at. The only catch is you have to be out by noon.” We asked if that was when he had to leave for work, and he told us that he didn’t live there. He was in real estate and was selling the house, but it would be empty until noon the next day, at which point a family would be moving in.

It was totally sketchy, but we’d all been sleeping in our vans for a few days so we said, "Fuck it. We’ll check this place out."

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So we show up to this fucking house. There’s baby toys and clothes strewn all over the front lawn. It looked like the house from Gummo. Just filthy and delapidated. So we go into the house, and there’s shit everywhere. It’s disgusting. There is cheese stuck on the living room wall. The guy’s showing us around, and it’s getting to the point where we think this guy’s lying. There’s no way a family is moving into this house the next day.

I remember I went to open this one door and the guy stopped me saying ‘No, no, no, that’s where the family moving in keeps all their stuff.’

Then he’s showing us the bathroom and says, “If you want to take a shower you can – but there is no shower curtain which is a bummer, but you can always take a shower together. That way you’ll have nothing to hide.”

At this point no one is really putting down their sleeping bags or committing to stay in this place, it’s just too weird. The guy goes to leave and tells us he’ll be back around 11 to make sure we’re out so the new family doesn’t find us there.

So he leaves and we’re all standing around discussing what we’re gonna do. Someone said “If we’re gonna stay, someone better take a picture of us because it’s the last time we’ll all be seen alive.” And not more than five seconds later, the guy walks back into the house and says “You’re gonna need someone to take that picture.” I guess he must have been listening at the door. We’re all in disbelief and he grabs someone’s camera and says something like “Alright, everyone say buttfuck!” and snaps the shot.

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This time we watched out the window to make sure he really left, and came to the conclusion that if we stayed the night there, that dude was gonna come back at around two a.m. with 16 other guys and they would either fuck us or kill us or both. We got the fuck out of there and drove through the night to Nashville. Someone took from the house this weird painting of a guy brushing his teeth, I think from the room we weren’t supposed to go into. The painting disappeared later on the tour, but three years afterwards I was at a venue in North Carolina that we had played on that tour, and the painting was hanging up in the promoter’s office.

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Website

www.myspace.com/bloodhorse

Photos

Russell Bopp

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