The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Hard rockers relocate to Atlanta
Liliac leaves Los Angeles and brings family band to Douglasville.
Editor’s note: With live music and concert reviews on hold due to COVID-19, The Atlanta Journalconstitution is focusing on how Georgia musicians are spending their time in our feature, Mic Check.
For the past few years, Liliac has captivated rock fans with its searing covers.
A version of Metallica's “Enter Sandman” racked up 8 million Youtube views, while their taut, boisterous take on Ozzy Osbourne's “Crazy Train” attracted another 6 million.
Their performances on the Santa Monica Pier helped them hone their performance skills, while also cultivating a worldwide fan base that is also indulging in their original music.
In November, Liliac vacated its Los Angeles-area apartment, packed up the team and drove across the country to Douglasville, where relatives and a new house with a 1,600-square-foot basement awaited.
Liliac is a family band, and by family, we mean siblings ranging in age from 22 (guitarist Samuel) to 13 (keyboardist Justin). Lead singer Melody is 19, her drummer
sister Abigail just turned 21 and bassist Ethan is 14.
Overseeing their career as manager/producer — as well as handling their slick visuals — is dad Florin Cristea, a native of Romania. (He met his wife at a Romanian church in California.) Cristea was born in Transylvania — the comfort zone of Count Dracula — which lends an aha to the band's name; Liliac means vampire bat in Romanian.
The quintet impressively blends goth with hard rock, both onstage (they played the 2019 Kiss Kruise with the venerable fire-breathers, toured extensively in 2019 and have performed a couple of
shows in Woodstock since relocating to Georgia) and on record.
A new album, “Queen of Hearts,” arrived in October, along with videos for “We Are the Children,” “Sail Away” and “Crazy Nights.”
Melody Cristea talked with us recently about Liliac's new life in Georgia and what the band has brewing.
Q: How are you adapting to the move?
A:
I do miss California a lot — the memories and the places and our friends. Especially the memories of starting the whole
band with our family. It was a big change going from the apartment to a big house. We couldn't have our own rehearsal space in our apartment, but we have the basement now.
Q: Your dad got you started with music lessons, but what was your interest in music before that?
A:
Before we got into instruments, Sam used to be a Michael Jackson impersonator, and my dad started taking me and Aby out, and we would go to the Santa Monica Pier and (sing covers). We got introduced to rock, like Queen, and my dad started listening to Metallica, and we were like, “What is this?” As we started growing up and listening to that kind of music, he decided to give us instruments and to try to start a band. So, we all started taking lessons for four years, and ta da! Here we are now.
Q: Are there any family bands that you looked to for inspiration?
A: Van Halen has two brothers, and Halestorm is brother and sister. The older you get, everyone is more focused and into it and getting along.
Q: What music do all of you listen to?
A:
We all like to listen to heavy metal and rock, all the classic stuff. My favorite band is Dio. Ronnie James Dio is my main inspiration on vocals.
Q: You have an impressively
raspy voice. How have you worked on it?
A: We've been doing rock since I was 13, and me and my dad have been working on my vocals since then. Getting that attitude and
grit was mostly from Ronnie James Dio. I'll listen to James Hetfield (of Metallica) and try to add that (style) to my voice without hurting my throat.
Q: You also paint. Is that
a good way to get away from the family for a bit?
A:
I paint as a hobby. It's kind of another hidden talent I can do. We've sold a lot of my paintings. I'm going to put out more original artwork very soon. I've been painting since I was 13. That's what I wanted for Christmas — paint and a canvas. I'm pretty much self-taught. I usually do it in the afternoon when the day is over. That's when I can really listen to music as well.
Q: What else should people know about Liliac at this point?
A:
We've been on “The World's Best” (talent show) on CBS. We were also on “America's Got Talent” in 2020, before the pandemic. We made it through the first round, and then the pandemic hit, so we decided to do the album instead (the band withdrew prior to the judge's cuts). In 2019 we toured mostly the East Coast for the first time and our song “We Are the Children” was No. 1 on Amazon.
Q: What’s next on the agenda?
A:
During the pandemic, we were staying home mostly working on “Queen of Hearts” and did a music video (for the song “Nothing”) in our little apartment, and we had so much smoke that we set off the fire alarm. We're going to do more videos that will come out really soon; we're scouring the area. The next video will be for “Mystery” and right now we've got more covers — (Metallica's) “Master of Puppets” and ( Joan Jett's) “I Hate Myself for Loving You.”
A therapist takes a 10-year-old boy into what she calls “therapy.” The young fellow is belligerently defiant toward his parents and throws titanic tantrums when things don’t go his way. At school – virtual, going on a year – he’s distractible and doesn’t finish his work without being hovered over and harangued by his mother, a tactic that frequently precipitates more belligerence and a titanic tantrum.
After nearly a year of weekly “therapy” sessions, nothing changed. If anything, the boy’s behavior worsened. At that point, the therapist waves a divining rod over him – just kidding – and discovers that he “has” ADHD and oppositional defiant disorder. In other words, she conceals her ineptitude by claiming that something is wrong with his biology – according to her, a “biochemical imbalance.” To “seal the deal,” so to speak, she recommends he begin taking stimulant medication – one, mind you, that has not reliably outperformed placebos in controlled clinical trials. To the credit of their common sense, the parents refuse to accept both the diagnoses and the medication.
I hear similar stories quite often from parents. Without exception, said parents know what has caused their kids’ problems. They did! As in this fellow’s case, the parents micromanage on the one hand and threaten charging elephants with fly swatters with the other. They delay beginning to seriously discipline until the problems in question have become habit, and their “discipline” consists of one part yada-yada and one part screaming and threatening.
Excuse me? This means a child’s neuro-chemicals are out of whack? Do the therapists who dispense these absurd explanations perform physical examinations? Do they draw and analyze blood samples, for example? No. Request brain biopsies? No. Then how, pray tell, do they come to the conclusion that these kids have bad biology and need drugs?
What the parents need is a strategy for recovering from the effects of yadayada, threats that amount to nothing, fly-swatters, screaming, and micromanagement that leads, almost inevitably, to more screaming, more yadayada, and more micromanagement.
“If I don’t check on him,” a mother tells me, “he won’t do his work.”
Wrong. As long as she checks on him, he’s not going to do his work. Micromanagement
always, without exception, brings forth conflict, communication problems, and the worst in everyone involved.
“I should just leave him alone?” Mom asks.
“Yep, just leave him alone.” One-sentence therapy.
Nine out of 10 underperforming kids, left alone, eventually get the message – YOU and YOU alone are responsible for YOUR school performance – and begin doing fine. Things usually get worse at first, which requires much hand holding with the micromanager, but per the adage, they eventually get much better.
What about the 10th kid? Glad you asked. He needs some incentive. Not rewards, mind you. Rewards work on rats, not so well on humans. Number 10 needs to learn, courtesy of very patient but determined people, that in the grown-up world, privilege is a function of personal responsibility. The 10th kids usually come around. Usually.
When one is dealing with the wild card of human nature, there are no guarantees.