LOUD BUT NOT EVIL
Norma Jean’s frontman tells Gareth Langdon that metal “comes out aggressive because you mean it”
Metalcore band Norma Jean is simply making a point
ON stage, Cory Brandan moves deliberately and forcefully, screaming and growling his way through a powerful hour and a half of no-holds-barred heavy metal. To uninitiated audience members at South Africa’s Krank’d Up festival last month, Brandan was probably quite scary. But when we sit down to talk metal, touring and how life informs music, he is friendly, relaxed and demure.
It’s a typically dry and hot Joburg afternoon as Brandan, vocalist for US Christian metalcore band Norma Jean, talks of how it all began.
“All the younger kids when I was growing up in the early-to-mid ’90s that were into heavy music, we really had to struggle to find a place for music to happen.” At this time, the metal scene was so small in his town they were forced to play in “abandoned houses”.
This seems an apt setting — metal has always had its darker undertones, which makes it unappealing to many. But this is exactly what drew Brandan in. “Heavy music has a dark attraction to it and, I think that dark attraction is actually cathartic for people.”
His first metal show floored him: “I was just like, ‘What the hell am I watching right now? This is insane.’ ” He was hooked, not by the darkness but because of the catharsis.
Music “itself is a sound that can’t have a belief”, he says. Instead, “You’ve got some guys who maybe came from some hard backgrounds, or something had happened in their childhood, or maybe they weren’t accepted at school, whatever it is, but that was their release.”
Through their seven studio albums, this cathartic edge has always been a prominent feature of Norma Jean’s music. But on their latest, Polar Similar, the lyrics take a particularly personal turn.
The album confronts the tough subject of abuse “from several different perspectives”, something that Brandan has experience of. For him, the music is a way of connecting with others who may have faced the same kinds of trauma, and providing healing through the lyrics.
“That’s what I get out of it and that’s what I’m putting into it. I like music to be interpreted like an art piece . . . people see differently, they interpret things differently . . . and I want to try to do that in the best possible way. There’s somebody out there that’s going to get something out of it and to me that’s the coolest thing that could happen with a song.”
Perhaps surprisingly, Brandan is a practising Christian, something not very common in the heavy metal scene.
“I’m very serious about what I do . . . but on the outside of the band I’m a regular dude just like everyone. And in the band, like any other band, we sing about what we believe in. We’re no different from our peers. The music is still music. There’s no such thing as ‘Christian music’.”
I am especially interested in this aspect of their music. Metal has a bad reputation, being branded as evil and dangerous since the earliest days. South Africa has expeBrandan rience with this, with recent performances by Polish black metallers, Behemoth, in Cape Town and Joburg being branded as “sacrilegious” by some. Their petitions failed to stop the shows, but the sentiment is definitely there.
is very careful to keep music and belief separate, however. “If I clap my hands, you can’t tell me if it’s Christian or not. It’s just a sound.”
Importantly, he also notes that the “satanic” image of a lot of the extreme metal bands is all part of the show: “They need to realise that what those bands do is kind of a . . . it’s more or less kind of a horror theme. It’s not really real. It isn’t,” he says, laughing.
Brandan has spent time with the members of Behemoth on tour, and is quick to mention that they are “very genuine, respectful” people. Just like him, off stage, they’re just ordinary human beings.
And despite what you may expect, Brandan defends them, knowing that he is part of that same scene.
“The door swings both ways . . . they sing about fire and death and it’s fun . . . Listen and let your ears decide.”
It is clear that, in the same way that Brandan doesn’t feel his music should be listened to through the lens of his faith, the same is true of those on the darker end of the metal spectrum.
In the end, music is open to interpretation and what really matters to Brandan is that metal functions as a healthy catharsis, and should be treated as such.
The aggression inherent in metal, the thing that scares people, is where metal gets its power: “It comes out aggressive because you mean it so much and nobody else is saying a lot of those things.”
As I wished Brandan good luck for the show later that evening, and was ferried to the festival in my Uber, I thought about how my own experiences have shaped my taste in music — the “dark attraction” that Brandan talks about played an important role for me, just like it did for him.
And as I walked around the festival that day, I couldn’t help but notice how calm it was. No one was fighting, or screaming, or causing any real fuss. There was no ritual sacrifice going on. Everyone was just there to enjoy a good show.
I guess all that catharsis was healthy after all.
‘Heavy music has a dark attraction that I think is actually cathartic for people’