Putting the Skrew to Austin industrial music
Date:
03/03/1993
BYLINE Chris Riemenschneider
It's a good thing Skrew frontman Adam Grossman lives in a chaotic world. His music depends on it.
"The worse things are, whether in my personal life or in the news, the more creative I get," Grossman says. This explains the angry, sadistic sound of Skrew. Their Warner Bros. etal Blade release Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame, was packed full of enough charring guitar loops and frightening vocals to prompt Spin magazine to call Skrew "the future of industrial noise." And to think such a brutal-sounding band, which could give Ministry a run for its Lollapalooza-earned money, is from little ol' Austin.
"We're definitely a little on the outside of the scene," Grossman says. "But I guess we're just another branch of the variety Austin has." Skrew emerged almost two years ago from the collapse of another band, Angkor Wat, which Grossman played in with Danny Lohner. While being courted by the record companies and setting out for a cross-country tour, Angkor Wat lost its drummer, leaving Grossman and Lohner to carry on alone. Lohner's computer and sampling skills came in handy, and the two changed their sound and their name.
"We didn't set out to sound industrial at all," Grossman says.
"But the more and more we messed with the high-tech stuff, the better it sounded." "We had to totally relearn how to write music." Apparently, they learned fast. Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame was recorded in Chicago last winter and released in July. It is one of the finest industrial-sludge albums out there. Grossman says Skatenigs evolting Cocks member Phil Owen, who produced the album, was the perfect touch Skrew needed. Oh yeah, and Al Jourgenson helped too. "We met Al at a Bad Livers show and he said he would like to help us," Grossman says.
"He was so cool that I was suspicious, but he really was interested." After recording the album, Grossman says Skrew did the worst thing they could have done. Skrew did not tour. Six months since Burning's release, they've played only a handful of shows. But their lack of shows is certainly not all Skrew's fault. A tour with Front Line Assembly fell through because the more computer-oriented band did not want Skrew to bring the two drummers they use in their live sets. Then a tour with Skinny Puppy never materialized because their singer, Nivek Ogre, does not like Jourgenson, and since Jourgenson played with Skrew ...
"We're finding out how stupid all of this can be," Grossman says, referring to the music business. But Skrew is finally set to tour. They have just returned from a two-week jaunt in Europe, and will hit the road for six weeks after their March 19 South By Southwest show at the Back Room. Besides touring, Skrew has also had problems with Warner Bros. over sampling use. Having recently lost a costly case involving Biz Markie over copyrights, the record company now heavily discourages sampling, much to Grossman's discontent.
"The last song on the album (Prey Flesh) originally had about 2,000 samples in it and Warner Brothers just said, 'No way.' So we had to go back into the studio and shred the song apart.
"It's harder than hell to sample today," he says.
"But I think it's cool that people are making such a big deal out of it. That keeps it underground." Grossman's least favorite story of the "music biz crazies" is Skrew's unwarranted appearance on a compilation called Satan's Revenge, pt. II. The album had the Skrew song Burners of the Cross, which Grossman swears is a song attacking the Ku Klux Klan. He also swears there is nothing satanic about Skrew.
"Then to top it off, I was over at a friend's parents' house who are real religious," Grossman says.
"Well he pulls out this Bible video of 'Rock Bands against Jesus' or something like that and it had Skrew on it. They were like, 'Look Adam, there you are.' " Despite the numerous problems, Grossman shows no remorse for being in Skrew.
"I gave up $25,000 a year to do this," he says, referring to his job as a social worker in a methadone clinic, which undoubtedly contributed to the chaos found in his music. Grossman, a UT graduate, also turned down three law schools.
"Unfortunately, I'm a creative person. I'll always have to do something creative, and right now Skrew is it.'
