Blending metal fury, electronic pulse, and radical independence, this interview dives deep into Cries of Redemption’s genre-defying vision, creative philosophy, and the personal journey shaping its dark, modern sound today.
1. Your
music blends NuMetal aggression with electronic genres like Deep House and
Trance. How did you first realize that these seemingly opposite styles could
coexist in your sound?
I got my
first guitar at the age of 13—an acoustic Del Vecchio handmade and signed by
the old man himself. The following year I got my first electric, and by 15 I
was already playing live gigs in music festivals held in high school gyms and
town fairs… I was the sole songwriter from day one, even though there was
always a trained musician in every band I played in from the first to the last.
I stopped playing live at around 38 and by then I would sit in with various
bands here and there, but had not had my own band in a while.
My first
contact with rock was CCR. I did not like any of the music of my time that
played on the radio, and I took it upon myself “to discover.” In doing so, I introduced myself to the “classics”: Deep Purple, Black
Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Alan Parsons Project, Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Yes, and
Rush. That got me primed for rock, but it just did not have the bite I craved,
and that led me to discover Iron Maiden and Ozzy, and later Megadeth. I went
through a dark phase digging bands like Candlemass, Mercyful Fate, and
Savatage. All the while I would comfortably listen to bands like The Cure, The
Smiths, and A Flock of Seagulls. In other words, from a very early age I had an
eclectic musical taste. While rock defined my personality and identity, it did
not prevent me from listening to and enjoying other sub-genres I found
interesting.
I did my
time in garage bands, and for the sake of being in the band, played my part
even when I felt we weren’t doing
anything very interesting. But being in a band was part of my identity, and so
I went along to get along. And then… BOOM! Nirvana came. I literally remember
watching the premiere of their “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video on MTV, standing
up and fully aware of what I was witnessing. Look! I was not impressed, I was
never a fan, I was confused as hell. But none of that mattered. What mattered
is that I knew right then the rock world as we knew it had just changed before
my eyes. Lucky for me, I was immediately thinking of how to pivot. I sure as
hell did not want to sound like Nirvana, but what could I do that would be
acceptable while detaching myself from the old metal vibe? See, I believe people
grew tired of the five-minute guitar solos and how technical guitar playing had
become. It had become something that was no longer attainable to the average
kid, and if Nirvana did two things right, one was democratizing music. Kids
were literally buying instruments and starting bands at record levels
immediately after Nirvana exploded. And second and most importantly, Nirvana
set me free. I was now in a position where I only needed to find a couple of
other survivors and start my own gig. And that I did. A buddy of mine that used
to play in one of the hottest bands in Atlanta, a Maiden tribute band, and I
got together and started experimenting with different approaches. We settled
for a brutally, ultra-aggressive rhythm section with clean guitar and a funk
swagger to it. Think of Chili Peppers meets Iron Maiden without OD, with a
splash of James Brown and a small dose of David Gilmour. And that was “Mudbugs,” the band a buddy of mine
and I started to ride the storm brought by Nirvana. We kept refining while
watching old metalheads and friends refuse to pivot and just fall into
obscurity. Imagine, one day you are the king of the hill because you can play
the solo in every metal guitar song, and the next day, that very skill is your
biggest liability. For people for whom shredding was the sole reason for their
existence, it must have been devastating. But because I had an eclectic taste,
playing a little differently and without hiding behind OD or reverb didn’t bother me a bit. The beer was still cold, the
chicks were still hot, and the rock and roll life was just as alive and well as
before—but pleasantly different.
During this
time, I gave myself permission to explore. I have no idea how, but I was
present during Stabbing Westward’s
signing party in some small venue in Atlanta. It might have been Smith’s Old Bar; I am not sure, it’s been a while. Front 242 was the opening act,
and that clash of genres was giving me ideas. This was a time when we were
playing the same original music scene in Atlanta as Sevendust (never on the
same night or ticket, of course) and Rick Beato’s studio was not too far from our rehearsal space in Doraville. I bring
up Rick Beato because although I never met him in person (my bassist at the
time did know him), he was kind of a household name in the Atlanta music scene
at the time. And Sevendust? Well… First they were innovators and no one can
argue that, but more importantly, the screamos you hear on Cries of Redemption
songs were borrowed directly from the master himself, Sevendust’s Morgan Rose. The first time I heard him do
his screamos I was elated because finally someone got it! I was no longer
alone. The cool thing about screamo is to deploy it strategically, with
precision, as an enhancement to a line a killer singer has just sung. Screaming
for the sake of screaming or because you can’t sing sucks! It lacks dynamic depth and it is meaningless and
exhausting to the listener, IMO. So there you have it! I surely ain’t copying Morgan Rose but have zero shame in
adopting a massively valuable technique from a fellow Atlantan.
Now I am
getting large doses of different approaches to rock and electronic music. Not
too long after that I got knee-deep into Carl Cox, Paul Oakenfold, Paul Van
Dyk, and Sasha. In other words, pretty much all of the Super DJs of the time,
and I started to wonder how that would sound if mixed with rock. A few years
later, I decided to start experimenting since I could not find anyone to do it
with. I bought an 8-track Fostex digital recorder and the cheapest keyboard
money could buy at Walmart. While using the cheap built-in drum presets on the
cheap keyboard, I started writing my first “genre-bending” tunes. Like every new experiment, it was
nothing noteworthy. But it opened my mind to new ideas. Not too soon after I
got into Deepside Deejays and Victor De LaPena, and I could definitely hear
some of those grooves mixed with Hard Rock or NuMetal.
This was
when I joined Kompoz and met synth player extraordinaire Ken Ferretti and a
tech head by the handle of 404. I was now in heaven. Both were into rock and
electronic music. I ditched the Fostex and started using a DAW instead. My
first DAW was “Fruity Loops” (for anyone who ever wondered
what the FL stood for), and later it became FL Studio. Now, with collaborators
and like-minded people, I had the opportunity to both learn and experiment.
These guys taught me a lot about recording and music production and you can see
tons of our early works on Kompoz’s site.
It was all experimental, no pressure. The only bad song was the one we didn’t write. We binged on writing what later we
would turn into songs, or I’d just
get all of the tracks that could not be used for anything and stretch, shrink,
splice, and load them with all kinds of FX from FL Studio and would later use
them for texture in other songs. From that time until today, everything has
been refinement, experimentation, and learning and trying new technologies.
2. As the sole writer of lyrics,
melodies, and guitar riffs, how do you approach balancing the rawness of rock
with the hypnotic textures of electronic music?
The
foundation of all of my songs is a solid Hard Rock or Metal drum track. When I
am happy with the beat, I then lay the bass—just a very simple, fat bass to add
bottom. There is no room to get too creative here because, for the bottom, bass
is an asset, but get too creative and it becomes a liability; as you run up and
down the neck, you will inevitably be pushing it further into the higher
frequencies where I already know it will be a pain in the ass to create a
habitat for my downtuned guitar. I also like to add textures such as drones,
subtle glitches, or even just turn the female vocals of the song (or a
different one in the same key) into a “blur” that rides the entire song.
Again, too loud and it muddies the mix; too low is pointless. The right amount
is gold for listeners who enjoy listening at lower volumes because only then is
it noticeable, along with other subtle elements. I then get the vocals and make
sure they dominate and own the mix. From there, I lay my guitars, whether
tracking or I’ll just use Ample Sound HellRazer.
Yep! I don’t always play the guitar. More often
than not I do, but there are some riffs where it is easier to use a MIDI
controller, or some parts that are much too simple to go through the trouble of
tracking a guitar. And since Ample Sound modeled HellRazer after a 9-string
Schecter Demon and I happen to have an exact 6-string model, it fits the song
perfectly. You only knew because I am telling you, and I doubt you could point
out to which song and where I did it. No matter how good you are, you can’t tell. Such is the technology that the sound
of the plug-in is indistinguishable from the real thing.
When we
have a nice rhythm section, vocals that own the song with tons of room, and a
guitar track that sits perfectly in the mix, then it is like putting together a
puzzle. Here, I choose details and textures that complement and do not
dominate. The goal is not to fill every hole, but instead to add some nuances
while still allowing the song to breathe and the bass and drums to move. Look,
this is not flexing, but it is a reality to be shared: over the years, between
purchased and free samples, I have amassed over 1,200 plug-ins. Needless to
say, most I don’t even
remember or know what they do. I have easily 500GB of high-quality construction
kits and samples. But that does not mean I have to use it all. Sometimes I use
nothing. I know when the song asks for something or needs nothing. Take “No More Google Translate”—the only
trickery in that song is that I used Audimee not for my sake, but for the sake
of the listeners. David Gilmour once said: “I play what the song asks for. No
more.” To me, that was so profound that to this day it keeps me in check,
always asking if I am overplaying or adding stuff I should not be adding, or if
something is missing and, if so, what. That is my process.
3. Your
production process uses both analog grit and cutting-edge digital tools. Can
you walk us through a typical workflow for creating a track?
The
backbone of a song starts in FL Studio. The reason is that FL Studio offers
everything I need to create the soundscape I envision. It is robust, extremely
intuitive, and I can sketch a song in minutes as far as what will go where.
Here, I pick the tools for the drums and the patterns, lay basic textures, and
I’ll often just slap together a MIDI
file for the bass and use Harmless just for reference. That allows me to gauge
how the bass will interact with the drums and take some quick readings of how
much headroom it is already consuming. I then track the guitar(s) in Reaper and
drop Maria Duque’s or
Denisse’s vocals into the FL Studio “sketch mix.” Again, I do this just
to see where everything is, where I am with headroom, and what, if anything,
the song calls for. Any texture or FX work is done here. If the drums sound too
mechanical, then I pop open Logic Pro and sculpt them with Drum Designer, and
if I am happy, go ahead and burn the stems and take them back to FL Studio. It
sounds like a lot of back and forth, but it really isn’t. I tried other methods, and this is the one that works best. If I
create the soundscapes along with stems rather than creating a bedtrack, it
sounds way more organic. This way, everything sounds like it belongs, but more
importantly, this phase serves also as a premix. Why? Because when I burn the
stems for the final mix, everything is already going to be pretty much
balanced, and it will reduce the need for plug-ins.
Now, the
guitars. I am pragmatic. Mind you, I reside in two countries—the US and
Colombia. Therefore, I have identical setups in both places, but I don’t carry guitars back and forth, especially
because I use different guitars for different tunings. I also no longer bother
with amps. For maximum brutality and aggression, I use Amped ROOTS with “The Best IR in the World” for
impulse response. For fat, well-articulated, tight tones, I use Waves “Amplifier,” and for clean or
modulated tones, I use Native Instruments’ Guitar Rig 7. For guitars, I use a customized Tele with Seymour Duncan’s Holy Rail with 13s if I can find them—which I
rarely can, especially in Colombia. In fact, in Colombia, I live in a small
town and I doubt there ever was a rock band in this town. The first time I
inquired on whether they carried 13s, and if not, the 12s would do, they looked
at me like I was from another planet. I either take a bundle of strings from
the US when I travel or have to buy them from Amazon. For Drop B, I use a
Schecter Demon Diamond Series with active pickups and 12s. For Drop D, I use a
standard Les Paul with 10s. For lead, I use either a modified Strat with Lace
Sensors and 9s or a Jackson Adrian Smith Series with the HSS setup and a “genuine” Floyd Rose. Notice that I emphasize “genuine” Floyd Rose because a lot of the lower-end
guitars come with “licensed” Floyd Roses. Both are a pain in the
ass to get the strings to settle, but the difference is that when you lock the
nuts of an axe with a genuine Floyd Rose, it will withstand the abuse and
punishment during tracking without having to worry or be constantly
fine-tuning. This is one piece of gear that is worth every penny and is not
hype. Quality matters. In the US, I have a similar set, but they are all Ibanez
or Jacksons. None are modified as they are pretty good straight out of the box.
The only thing I carry when traveling is my MacBook Pro M-4, when whether I
arrive in the US or Colombia, I just need to connect it to the audio interface
and I am off to the races of making rock and roll.
Now that
the guitar tracks are in place, I transfer everything from FL Studio, and the
mixing is very straightforward. I do create sub-mixes for each instrument
except the bass (which I may track or just build from scratch using MIDI and
Harmless while still in FL Studio) and textures. I parallel compress
everything, especially the vocalists. But everything gets a boost. The goal is
-10 LUFS-I and -9 LRA. I know… I’ve been
told it is too much, but do a quick search on Cries of Redemption and you won’t hear complaints about the mix. I do it that
way because when the streaming platforms normalize the track to their standard
(-14 LUFS-I), they will lower the volume, but they won’t castrate my song. It will still have balls.
4.
Collaborating remotely with vocalists like Denisse Ferrara and Maria Duque
seems unique. How does technology influence the emotional depth of these
collaborations?
You know,
it wasn’t until I read this question that it
dawned on me that Maria Duque and Denisse are not with me. I honestly never
stopped to think about that. It is a very straightforward process. We don’t talk that much. When I have a song for either
of them, I check their availability and send them a reference demo, a backing
track, and guided vocals along with the lyrics. They send it back to me, and
that is the end of it.
I believe
that after years of collaborating with people from over 30 countries in Kompoz,
it has been a "new normal" to me since 2013. Take Sriracha (Billy
LeCoq) for instance—he’s
coming back, by the way. He and I have collaborated on well over 50 songs over
the 13 years we’ve
known each other. I know that I stumbled upon his real name by chance once, but
I have no idea what he looks like. For an avatar, he uses a badass black
biohazard symbol, which is an embodiment of everything he is: badass,
dangerous, lethal.
The time I
spent in Kompoz was amazing because there, the only thing that matters is the
song you are working on. If you start sidetracking too much, people either cut
you off or just stop collaborating with you. It is precisely how I wish
everyone approached music—musicians and listeners alike. There is no flexing on
the ‘gram. You never know who you are
talking to because there are tons of pros there, and I am talking about
Grammy-winning pros. I even worked with the Senior Sound Engineer for Carnegie
Hall for a while (he is retired now, of course). But that gives you an idea of
the caliber of the people there and how who you are and where you are matters
nothing. All that matters is if you can add something to the song, even if just
a suggestion. Everything else is secondary and falls out of the singleness of
purpose of the place.
So, in short: Maria Duque and Denisse being in other countries is not an issue at all.
5. Cries
of Redemption has maintained an intentionally low-profile, avoiding traditional
social media hype. How does anonymity shape the way listeners connect with your
music?
I started
Cries of Redemption three days after I left detox (I have been sober now for 19
years uninterruptedly). If you listen to the EP “A Collection of Songs To Come”
you will hear a song called “Cries of Redemption”. I started drinking and
playing guitar at the same time, so when I got out of detox I had no clue if I
could play or would even enjoy it. While still shaking from DTs, I managed to
write that tune. If course, the one on Spotify has been recorded and produced
differently but the riff, which is the backbone of the song is what was played
.
At first,
Cries of Redemption was my connection to a world “I believed I loved” but was
not sure as I had never experienced it sober (I’m talking about rock and roll).
It turned out that I loved rock and roll more than I could ever imagine and now
without a drink, I could look back at all the screw ups in studios and
occasional subpar life performances and draw a direct link to my drinking,
especially towards the end as it picked up pace and I was no longer in control.
Alcohol fooled me for a long time because I always felt I was in control. Until
the day I woke up to realize I had lost control at least 4 years ago. So,
initially it was my safe place. Where I learned to play and write songs without
needing to be blasted with booze. Where I learned to appreciate detail and
nuance rather than brute force and will power. When I felt safe, I started
engaging with others and it became clear to me that the songs I wrote and the
project itself were very personal. It was not something to be flashing around.
I always reached out to people who needed a push during those difficult times
of transition from active addiction to sobriety. These people opened up to me,
trusted me, dug the songs I wrote at the time, which in retrospect were way too
out in the open. Hence why I now write in metaphors. The people who need to
hear what I write about pick it up without needing explanation and an average
listener gets to make of the lyrics whatever he or she wants it to be.
While the
First EP was recorded at the now defunct “Elevated Basement Studio” in Savannah
and engineered by no other than Savannah’s living legend and favorite son,
Kevin Rose (GAM, Superhorse), even then there were no pictures taken. Most
people would not pass on the opportunity of a photo with Kevin, for a number of
reasons. All that matters is that I know Kevin and he I. If anyone wants to
verify, he is not a hard guy to find. Just ask him. And in reality, I am not a
photo guy to start with. I don’t particularly like to take photos and photo
shoots back in the days when it was kind of mandatory in order to put a promo
package to land gigs, I did it kicking and screaming. So anonymity initially
was to provide a safe place to people talking to me and digging the music and
it is also part of who I am. I encourage you to go online and find a picture of
me. I am sure that if you try hard enough one or two will surface. But that is
it. And I have done a lot. I have travelled, I was a commercial banker for 20
years, I was in the Marine Corps. I lived and live a life, but it baffles me
that social media and photos seem so important to so many.
Right now,
also kicking and screaming I hired a social media manager. I honestly don’t
have the url for CORs social media accounts much less the log in credentials,
neither do I want them. But, my social media is probably sitting idle. My
social media manager is a traditional marketing professional. Her client roster
includes primarily high end doctors, dentists, and architects. I make the “high
end distinction” because these professionals cater not only to foreigners but
foreigners that travel to Colombia exclusively for their health, teeth or to
build their dream home. Whatever marketing approach she uses with them, I have
repeatedly told her won’t work with COR. I don’t flex, don;’t take photos and
the people who like my music don’t care about that. I told here that my client
base are generally castaways, misfits, bruised, battered, and often traumatized
folks. These are not people sensitive to marketing gimmicks and like me most
probably hate “flexing”. I told her the product is the music, not me. People want
to hear music, not listen to me blabbing about some no sense or showing
pictures or videos that don’t have a damn thing to do with the music I write.
My authenticity which is one of my most valuable currencies would be out of the
window the minute I did that.
6.
Tracks like “An Eerie Feeling” and “What Lies Beneath” have been praised
for tight musicianship and smooth delivery. What do you think gives them that
enduring impact?
This will
be a short answer because the best things in the world are “truth” and simplicity. I honestly
believe that people connect with the lyrics and vocal delivery, and perhaps the
music complements the two more than other songs do. Why do I say that? Because
neither song’s writing or production process is
different from any of the other songs. Therefore, in my mind, it can’t possibly be the music. It has to be something
else, and the answer likely lies in the lyrics and the emotional vocal
delivery. Strong lyrics and vocal delivery, much like a high tide, have the
effect of making everything associated with them rise—even if it isn’t necessarily of a higher quality than other
songs.
7. Your
audience data shows high engagement from Gen Z and Millennials. Why do you
think younger listeners are drawn to your hybrid, genre-defying sound?
While I do
go out of my way to emphasize that Cries of Redemption is a “Modern Rock” band, I do it to set myself apart from the
onslaught of Trad Rock bands in the region. Where I live in the US, if you say
rock, people immediately think Lynyrd Skynyrd, Allman Brothers, or Bad Company;
and while all of these bands had their moment and made tremendous contributions
to “the
body of rock,” they are a far cry from what Cries of Redemption is. Now, could
my push to explicitly and deliberately set myself apart from Classic Rock bands
have caused young people to listen and like it? It is possible. But then again,
COR sat in obscurity for nearly 20 years on ReverbNation where most of the
audience is made up of musicians. So, I must confess it was quite a shock when
I got Spotify’s report to find out that 66% of the
demographic for the band consisted of people under the age of 25, and I think
15% is of people under the age of 18.
It
certainly was not by design. I do my rounds, quickly sampling what is
"in" for the sake of not becoming stale. But it’s been a long time since I heard something fresh that “touched” me. See, I don’t listen to music casually. Music has always
been a part of something meaningful in my life and it is hard for me to listen
to meaningless and mindless music. And I am not being a purist, but I believe
many will agree I am stating a fact: music has become a commodity to be
consumed in the background. I am fully aware that there is little commercial
appeal to my music. It requires thinking; it is not catchy; it is dark. I also
know there is an audience of millions out there who are tired of the same crap
I am, who would love it—and perhaps those Gen Z in my demographic are them.
Perhaps I reached them sooner than I thought I would or ever could.
8. You’ve been active since 2007, long
before streaming and algorithms dominated the industry. How has your creative
philosophy evolved with these changes?
It did not
change a bit. The only thing I did not want was to be DOA and buried by the
algorithm. So, well over a year before I went to the major streaming platforms,
I paid a handsome amount to have two random samples conducted with random users
of major streaming platforms. The results were interesting. Everyone liked the
songs I submitted, although I was surprised by the ones they liked most; it
showed I was not the right person to decide which song should be streamed
first. The study also concluded listeners were 85% more likely to listen to COR
from a playlist that included Lacuna Coil and Evanescence. And you know what?
It is time to go on the record with a little piece of intel.
First, I
have heard of Lacuna Coil for well over 20 years, but never heard one of its
songs. I might have heard some guitar riffs a long time ago from a platform
that I used to practice guitar using backing tracks, but the band itself, I
know nothing about and could not name a song. Evanescence? Who can argue that
Amy Lee rocks? But the reality is that the only Evanescence song I ever heard
is “Bring
Me To Life.” Why? Because that song rocks so much that every time I tried to
listen to another Evanescence song, the vibe just was not there from the start,
so I skipped. I have “Bring Me To Life” on my playlist, but I skip
every Evanescence song that pops up. I mean, I have heard a perfect song from
them already; I’m good.
And not listening to Lacuna Coil comes across as being ignorant and lacking
curiosity, right? Wrong! If I am already being compared to a band that I never
heard any of its songs, it will sure as hell enter my pores and cause me to
inadvertently end up copying them. Another little secret for the record: when I
am in songwriting mode, I don’t
listen to any music other than my own. The mind has a powerful way of playing
tricks on us, and listening to other people’s music while writing my own can cause me to accidentally copy something
without even noticing.
Now, one
thing is a fact. I came to the major platforms with ZERO expectations, but also
prepared for a rebound should things go south. So, I did not lead with the top
shelf. I released songs I could afford to burn had things not worked out. For
instance, the songs that did extremely well on the random sample test have not
yet been released and are being redone and remastered. Sriracha is back and
will be joining us shortly. When I release those songs, it will no longer be a
void. We will have listeners, and it will work much better than had I led with
them.
Other than
that, I am on a legacy building mission. Now that I am sober and have a decent
project, I can finally put together something that will outlast me and will not
only be properly done but also an awesome representation of something I loved
so much—Rock and Roll!
9. The
project heavily leverages tools like iZotope, Waves, Moises, and Audimee. How
do you ensure technology enhances rather than overshadows the artistic intent?
Correction:
the project uses 10 times or more technology than that. In fact, if it exists,
is legal, and is available, I have tried it. But here is my secret and why you
could not possibly "prompt" your way into Cries of Redemption: every
COR song you hear, regardless of which technology I used or how much of it I
used, was written by me—with the receipts to prove it. Most of them have sat
idle collecting dust in a Kompoz server somewhere. So, the technology can only
enhance what was already done; it cannot overshadow it.
Only two
years ago, a lot of what I manage to do today simply would not have been
possible. Not because I did not have my own songs and ideas—I did—but I did not
have the tools to finish them. I would have had to rely on paid pros at very
expensive rates, or the kindness of friends whenever they had the time to help
me finish my songs. Those days are gone. Technically, I could do it all alone.
But from the very beginning, all of the songs I’ve written for Cries of Redemption demand a female vocalist. I feel
lucky to have found capable women to help me materialize my vision, and I am
also grateful to all of the unknown engineers out there who developed these
wonderful tools that allowed so many people like me to materialize their
vision.
Hence why I
am 100% open about my use of all technology at my disposal without ZERO guilt
or shame. I am old enough to have seen what happened with MIDI, Autotune, drum
machines, sequencing, and sampling. In the end, every single technology that
purists cried foul about as they hit the market are now standard tools in any
modern studio. I just don’t get
the logic of the arguments against the technology I hear. It is right up there
with the debates on abortion and gay marriage. Don’t want an abortion? Don’t get
one. Don’t want to marry a gay person? Don’t marry one. Don’t want emerging technologies to include generative elements in your
music? Don’t use them. The argument against it
is so weak that it is gaining little traction. And you know the game is over
when Rick Beato comes down from his purist throne and admits that even he is
toying around and knows of big-league pros using it. The argument against it
falls on its face. And suddenly everyone is worried about artists having been
ripped off? I am sorry, but I doubt anyone is truly thinking about that.
Sometimes, I think people start a controversy for the sake of clicks.
Look! If
you want to measure the impact of these technologies on music, just keep an eye
on enrollment at Juilliard or Berklee. If it falls, then we are doomed and
heading to a world without human musicians. But we all know that is not true.
We are not going to have fewer musicians; we are going to have more, because
live shows are going to take off like we probably haven’t seen in our lives.
So here is
my take on it: Use it, own it, and be happy. As I said, in my case, I write my
stuff and polish it in a way that alone would not be possible. I just encourage
everyone to be open about it, and for the purists to calm down and accept there
has been a paradigm shift and we’ll just
have to adapt. My definition of adaptation is learning and using the damn
thing. But no—I don’t want
it to create the stuff for me or create things I cannot do myself. I want it to
polish what I have already done and help me make my creations sound better.
Playing the pissed-off kid and holding your breath won’t help. In the end, if you want to stay competitive, you are going to
have to embrace it—or not, and spend a lot more time and work doing your music.
Who cares? That is each person's choice. But I do believe in transparency, and
I feel sometimes I even go beyond what is ethically required.
10. Your
music has been described as “melodic, heavy, and atmospheric,”
almost like David Gilmour jamming with Carl Cox. Which artists or moments
inspired this sonic fusion the most?
Growing up,
before I got my guitar, I really wanted to be a bassist. Simply because I
thought Gene Simmons’ SG bat
bass was the bomb. I know, but that was the rationale of a 13-year-old. And
then, by chance, I got to listen to David Gilmour’s “About Face” solo album and BOOM! I knew then… That guitar touched
something so visceral inside of my 13-year-old body that it left me speechless.
And by now, I had heard quite a bit of rock guitar. None touched me. They all
impressed me but didn’t touch
me. Blackmore, Iommi, Nugent? Spectacular guitarists. A lot of people don’t give them the credit they deserve because
they were magicians. They did things their instruments and equipment were not
designed to handle. So, if they sounded a little rough around the edges at
times, that was it. Ironically, Gilmour played the same or equivalent gear at
the same time and I can’t think
of a time he sounded sloppy. But I digress.
Look! Here’s the deal. If you have never heard Pink Floyd’s “One Of These Days…” from the album Meddle, please
do yourself a favor; and if you have, then you know where I am going with this.
In my opinion, Floyd are the forefathers of Trance. “One Of These Days…”, recorded in the
early 70s, gave the world a glimpse at what later would be signature Trance
rhythm and structure. Why Carl Cox? The truth is that he seems a bit more
musical than the other Super DJs of the time. Even Oakenfold, who is certainly
the father of Trance, did hold “The Apex” a little too long. I don’t know…
128 measures, or so it felt? To me, Carl Cox did/does all the things his
counterparts did/do but he knew when to pull back and get back in the groove,
which makes his songs more dynamic and less monotonous. Here is a perfect
example of the ingredients I use—I love screamo, but only if it is purposeful
and strategic, like Morgan Rose’s. I
love Trance, but once it hits the peak, it does not have to stay there for half
an hour. You can get there and come down and start another round. You know?
Restraint, tastefulness. It is no different than a guitarist that wants to lead
the entire song.
So, Gilmour
understands space (he really understands it all) and Carl Cox understands
climax and knows when to pull back and do another round rather than just set up
shop on Cloud 9.
While I
never watched Carl Cox live, I used to follow an online show back in the days
that would broadcast live shows at Creamfields, and I was always ecstatic when
Carl Cox spun. The details, the sensibility, the buildup, the apex, the coming
down, and rinse and repeat.
Gilmour? I
saw him live several times. But the one time that he nearly brought me to tears
was when I saw him live at the Georgia Tech Stadium and out of the blue you
could hear a guitar was on but not where it was going, and then, BANG! They
opened the show with Interstellar Overdrive. And Wow! This is so relevant when
you stop and think. Gilmour played note for note a song that Syd Barrett had
written. Both have their merits. Barrett’s unpolished approach was probably what the song needed in the 60s, but
nearing the 2000s, Gilmour not only gained a lot of young fans, but probably
introduced a side of Pink Floyd that very few people know about. And another
time, it was at the Omni in Atlanta. And here is the kick: I saw Pink Floyd
only a few weeks after having seen Yngwie Malmsteen. What Yngwie did to the
guitar was probably illegal in most countries. Sadly, I can only remember he
played fast but I cannot hum a single riff or song. Gilmour, on the other hand,
plays so that you cannot get his leads out of your head for days. They are so
purposeful, so well articulated. But the fact that in my book he can destroy
Malmsteen with one single open note? Have you ever heard “Sorrow,” or better yet, have you
ever heard David Gilmour play it live? That is the reason why I use Lace
Sensors on every Strat I ever had for the past couple of decades. Of course,
Gilmour has a lot more in his tone arsenal, but the sheer push of a fat clean
signal it dishes out gives a good starting point to sculpting the fat tone of
"Sorrow." Damn! That is what I used to say. Of course I admire and
respect Malmsteen, but it has to suck to have that level of prowess and not be
able to write one song... just one song that people can at least remember the
main riff. So, I hope that answers it. Carl Cox, live broadcasts at
Creamfields, and David Gilmour at Georgia Tech Stadium opening the gig with
Interstellar Overdrive played with such authority and quality that the original
lacked—and without changing a single note or the cadence of the song—along with
his interpretation of “Sorrow” at the Omni in Atlanta.
And just a
footnote, if I may: I used to collect Pink Floyd bootlegged CDs until my car
was broken into and they were stolen. But I had gems recorded in the 60s of
riffs during sound checks or clear improvs during songs that went on to later
become songs on The Dark Side of the Moon and the very “One Of These Days…” in Meddle
which I revere. Just throwing it out there while I was on a trip down memory
lane.
11. How
does Cries of Redemption approach storytelling through music, especially when
combining cinematic, electronic, and metal elements?
That is
easy. If I have a Jackson Adrian Smith Series, it is clear that I am a huge
Maiden fan, right? Well, I am way more of an Adrian Smith fan than Maiden but
that is not the point. Although, I must
confess, I never outgrew their music but their lyrics weren’t cool when I was 13, which makes me much more
likely to listen to early Maiden with Paul Di’Anno when the urge hits than with Bruce Dickinson. However, no one can
deny that Dickinson can both sing and tell a story like no other. So, think of “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” and
then listen to “An Eerie Feeling” immediately after… Of course I did not copy
anything from Maiden. Hell! They surely have no Cinematic Trap in their DNA.
But the slow burn, how the instrumentation sets the stage for the story—it is
theatrical, there is no doubt.
So, the
texture is my biggest ally in storytelling. Texture allows me to go almost
silent musically while still maintaining some musicality under the vocals.
Texture extends my dynamic range so that when I hit an open A chord in a Drop A
followed by a screamo part, it not only connects, it violates. So, by using
cinematic texture to extend the dynamic range of my music, it allows me to hit
even harder on the harder parts without having to be over the top. As much as I
love Megadeth, All That Remains, and Lamb of God, I cannot sit down and listen
to an entire album. They are phenomenal in every aspect; every single one of
them are metal gods in their own rights. But they offer me only loud and
louder, fast and faster. I suppose if I am on speed I might be able to connect
and listen to an entire album. But to me, the music has to breathe.
If you
notice in my songs, I go through great lengths to make the screamo parts short
and as well-articulated as possible. There is both a reason and a message in
those screamo parts that need to be heard. It is not just screaming for
screaming's sake, and it is all part of my philosophy of extending dynamic
range. It is all thought through. There are no accidents in my music.
12.
Looking forward, what are the next steps for Cries of Redemption—new
collaborations, further genre experiments, or perhaps expanding into visual
mediums like games or film?”
It is hard
to look forward under the landscape we are in. There is a lot of uncertainty
about what will become of commercial music. Yes, I am a user and advocate of
tools that, when used properly and transparently, are transformative. However,
as for the intent of the owners (not the developers) of those tools, I cannot say
with 100% certainty that they have our best interests in mind.
I find it
hard to believe there will be much need for creators of music for movies or
games. I believe we are witnessing in music, with the record companies and AI
companies in bed together, what happened to farmers with Monsanto. I do not put
it past them to obliterate intellectual property. Have you ever read the Terms
of Service of any of these AI companies that offer anything related to content
creation? From music to stills to videos. Monsanto succeeded in patenting just
about every seed there is. The AI companies, along with the music industry now,
simply started adding to their Terms of Service these clauses with words like “perpetual,” “irrevocable,”
“no royalty,” and the list goes on and on, bordering on the absurd.
So, as far
as next steps, there are no plans. But I am watching very closely what is
happening and I urge anyone out there who creates anything—not just music—if
you write, record music, or make videos, read the Terms of Service of
everything you create anything with. I surely do. Recently, I even went through
all my DAWs and all the plugins I use to make sure they have not added those
clauses there, and they haven’t. So,
there are tools in the market now that to me are fun tools, but not tools I
would upload anything I created outside of those platforms. The moment you do,
according to their Terms of Service, it belongs to them. Forever! I could have
read it wrong, but I doubt it.
What really
blows my mind is that people either don’t seem to know or don’t seem
to care. The one thing these giant companies hate more than anything is to lose
money. This could be easily reversed if people only stopped using these tools
for two months—no more than three. You would see all of these clauses taken
down, but people keep acting like the fools in Pompeii. They can tell the
volcano is about to erupt but “who the hell cares.” So, I know that what I am
saying sounds contradictory, right? I support and use tons of technology and
yet urge people to be careful and even stop using it. Well, let’s make sure I am not taken out of context. Don’t forget I said I read the Terms of Service, so
trust me when I tell you: if a service has a Terms of Service with anything
remotely close to “perpetual” or “irrevocable”… trust me! Those tools I do not use.
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