Interview: Winnipeg Free Press

Pop music is just like physics: for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction.

Back in the lovey-dovey days of the late '60s, when hippie acts spread saccharine messages about peace and hope, a brutish band from Birmingham, England used doom and gloom to lay the foundations for modern heavy metal. Thirty years later, Black Sabbath remains more popular than most of the silly psychedelic stars of the day. And 30 years from now, we'll probably remember turn-of-the-millennium bad boys like Eminem and Limp Bizkit, instead of all the shiny, happy boy bands and girl groups who've dominated the charts in recent years.

This isn't rocket surgery. The current crop of so-called "extreme" recording artists owes its existence and popularity to the fading kiddie-pop trend. After four years of utterly banal, non-threatening pop, emerging music fans in their early teens needed to be shocked out of their comfortable little existences.

The only problem is, the Eminems and Limp Bizkits of the world have merely replaced one fantasy world with another. Their revolt against a sanitized vision of squeaky-clean suburbia is based on the fiction that hedonism and violence have something to do with rebellion.

Getting wasted is not a radical idea. In short, these guys have nothing to say. Of course, not all "extreme" music is mindless. Plenty of bands wed ideas to heavy guitars, including a respectable number of acts right here in Winnipeg.

For the past nine years, an ultra-heavy metal band named Malefaction has been toiling in relative obscurity, blasting out extremely abrasive rock 'n' roll with a social conscience. This quartet is as caustic as any other act in North America. But the Winnipeg band1s lyrics have nothing to do with the Fred Durst diet of girls and booze. Malefaction's latest album, Crush The Dream, deals with a growingdisillusionment with democracy in this country.

"We're the antithesis of what's going on in "Extreme" music. With most metal crap, the meathead mentality rules. It seems like the more stupid you are, the more popular you are," says bassist Mike Klassen, 26.

"That's not the case with every band. I guess Papa Roach is trying to say something. But Limp Bizkit? Give me a break. Most people don't like to think because once you start questioning things, you're unhappy. You'll end up searching for answers all the time, and there are no answers. Most people don't want to deal with that."

After putting out independent albums in 1994 and '98, Malefaction turned to left-leaning Winnipeg record label G7 Welcoming Committee (home to punk trio Propagandhi, indie-rock heroes The Weakerthans and a future album by singer-songwriter Greg MacPherson) to release Crush The Dream. The disc' s official unveiling takes place Sunday at the Royal Albert Arms, where the all-ages bill features Head Hits Concrete, Kenmode, One Of These Days and Never A Victim.

"This is our first real label in how many years? It feels like a vindication," says Klassen, whose bandmates include singer Travis Tomchuk, guitarist Clint Chirella and drummer Cory Koss. "Finally, somebody is helping us out."

Malefaction will never find a home on MuchMusic; the group is too extreme for "extreme," cramming 23 tracks into 25 minutes on Crush The Dream. But that hasn't stopped the band from booking an extensive North American tour. Beginning on June 28, Malefaction plays 29 shows in 30 days on an itinerary that stretches from San Francisco to Boston. "The fewer days off, the better. It's all about getting enough gas money to get to the next show," says Klassen.