The bad news: Our nation is at war and weathering serious economic recession. The country is also enduring the sort of right-wing Conservatism not seen since the Reagan years, a religious and nationalist tightening characterized by censorship, hegemony and the seemingly inexorable erosion of individual rights.The good news: If history has taught us nothing else, it's at least shown that such dark periods inevitably engender some seriously pissed-off underground rock.
St. Petersburg aggro-punk duo Arcade Inferno isn't necessarily a politically motivated outfit. Their almost unbelievably visceral high-speed blast is, however, undeniably a product of their environment. It's a culture where monotony and homogeny disguise themselves as the newest and coolest in an effort to distract from the uncertainty of the times. And Arcade Inferno's frenetic expectorations seethe with disaffection and the end of patience, a ferocious announcement that if you're not at least a little exasperated by the whole thing, then you might as well be dead.
"I don't think it's anger, really," muses guitarist/vocalist Dave Haberkorn. "Maybe it's more frustration. Not angry, just fed up."
"None of it's a raging, macho anger. We're not a 'tough' band," elaborates drummer LeRoi Duval, before adding, "It is definitely upset-sounding, though."
Yes it is.
Haberkorn, though comparatively young, is an area punk-scene veteran who played his first bar when he was 15 and never looked back, filling open guitar and bass slots in any band that had its collective eye on hitting the road. He began laying the groundwork for Arcade Inferno in late 2001 after the demise of trippy, rocking and criminally underrated Pinellas outfit The Loose Ends. The usual local-'zine ads and weekend bar networking ensued.
Duval helped Haberkorn try to round up a new band. Most St. Pete scenesters knew Duval as the friendly, freaky kid who worked the counter at downtown kitsch-and-culture emporium Star Booty and whose tastes ran to British shoe-gaze, extreme electronic music and grindcore. A few even knew he was a talented programmer and arranger with his own musical project in the works. But almost nobody knew he was an amazing drummer until he began gigging around town with the then-brand-new garage-rock act Crippled Masters.
Haberkorn and Duval saw in each other a disenchantment with a scene split fairly evenly between melodic hooks and metal riffs, and a misanthropic desire to do something as self-indulgently confrontational as it was musical. Arcade Inferno began as a trio, but by the time the band played its first show early last year — and almost immediately spawned a reputation as a spastic car-crash of a live act — it had been streamlined to a two-piece.
"As time went by, it really didn't seem right to add someone else," says Duval.
Haberkorn runs his parts through both guitar and bass amps. As with other duos that play hard, fast, confrontational tunes. What's lost in terms of texture is compensated for by a brutal, airtight attack. Given Arcade Inferno's penchant for breakneck tempos, idiosyncratic arrangements and frequent hairpin rhythmic shifts, paring down the number of variables has worked remarkably well. (Though the twosome is occasionally augmented live by the disturbing enhancements of an enigmatic keyboard player known only as "Ricky.")
Last year's Dante E.P. showcased a chaotic, raw-edged mix of hardcore, garage rock and crusty grind, highlighted by Duval's inventive, energetic beats and Haberkorn's channel-surfing, ADD-damaged approach to songwriting — any minute-and-a-half of the recording features more cool riffs than an entire Hives album.
"I'm totally over leads. I don't want any crap that doesn't need to be in the song. Pack as much good stuff as you can in there, so there's no filler," he reasons.
Two more homespun EPs, The Fukall Demo and Brainiac Symphony, are either finished or nearly so; the inventively packaged Fukall can probably be snapped up at shows as you read this; and Brainiac will be available before the end of May. Both feature tempos that make those of Dante seem sedate and arrangements that continue the band's endeavor to strip away all deadweight.
"I'm aware of it, but I'm not writing songs any differently," says Haberkorn of the new tunes' less cluttered nature. "I think it's more subconscious. I think I figured out how to better write the songs I like."
As edgy, lo-fi and original as their recorded work may be, Arcade Inferno are really making their bones on the strength of a volatile, purging live set that can be anything except ignored. The pair is known for creative one-off shows at parties, on the streets of downtown St. Pete and at events like this weekend's Easter daytime shindig. But their bar shows, where the twosome simply will not permit the usual indifference, are quickly becoming the stuff of legend. Table-hopping, property destruction, provocative physical contact with apathetic crowd members, personal injury and even spontaneous regurgitation are regularly reported. They're not interested in knowing how everybody's doing tonight or making sure you tip your artenders and waitresses — what they want is to present something that demands your attention, for as long as it goes on.
"The songs are for us. As far as the show goes, that's for other people, whether they like it or not," says Haberkorn. "To make them question. I want them to either love it or hate it, but to have to deal with it."
This Sunday's Easter Matinee & Rock N' Roll Swap Meet deserves some above-and-beyond pluggage, if only because it's exactly what everybody bitches about there not being enough of — a "scene" thing, an event put on by the St. Pete original-music community for both itself and the community at large. Thanks to the efforts of Crippled Masters bassist Roger Peterson, those crazy girls and guy at Star Booty and the folks at the ACL Lounge (1758 Central Ave.), this year's alternative to egg hunts and older relations' strangely odoriferous couches includes seven disparate bands on two stages, plenty of cold beer and various lifestyle accoutrements for sell or trade.
Tables at the Swap Meet are still available for a $10 set-up fee, or if you've got old vinyl or new dreamcatchers to unload, call Star Booty (727-895-STAR) right quick for the lowdown, because according to Peterson, "they're going quick." Everybody else is welcome to browse, listen and belly up from 2 until 6 p.m. for a paltry fiver. Represent.
Scott Harrell can be reached at 813-248-8888, ext. 109, or by e-mail at scott.harrell@weeklyplanet.com.
This article appears in Apr 16-22, 2003.
