Metal Hammer (UK)

HALESTORM

From playing talent shows in rural Pennsylvan­ia to headlining internatio­nal venues, Lzzy Hale’s come a long way. We asked the Halestorm singer to write a letter to her younger self

- WORDS: LZZY HALE (AS TOLD TO EMMA JOHNSTON)•PORTRAITS: JEREMY SAFFER

What would Lzzy say to her 14-year-old self now if she had the chance? (Probably not half as much as she’d say to her sexist guitar teacher…)

Growing up in rural Pennsylvan­ia will make your family bond strong, which will be the foundation of the band. But you’ll realise you’re different to the local girls. This is your strength. For two years when your family lives in a log cabin in the woods, you and your brother, Arejay, get very close, because there are no neighbours in any direction. We start playing instrument­s and then we move to a 20-acre farm. You are 11, and this is the year that you find out that you are a different kind of girl than your peers, and you’re not cool. You’re a shy child, but when you ask your parents if you’re weird, they say, ‘Absolutely not, you need to be unapologet­ically yourself and that’s OK if you stand out.’ That’s a big life lesson, because you later use that as a form of pride and carry that with you in the band.

You will be nervous the first time you play live in front of an audience, but you will instantly know that’s where you’re

supposed to be. Arejay and you start jamming together, and sign up for your first show, the Schuylkill county Fair talent show. You’re so nervous. You’re 13, your brother is 10. He turns to you on the car ride and says, ‘We can’t go up there as Lzzy and Arejay Hale, we need a band name. What about Halestorm?’ And 20 years later, you’ll keep it! You get the bug for performing. A couple of nights after that, Arejay slips this little piece of paper under your bedroom door, and it’s a 10-year-old’s version of a contract. ‘I Arejay Hale promise to be the drummer for Halestorm, and we’re going to be the biggest band in the world.’ You still have the same dynamic today.

People will try to put you in the christian rock bracket, but you realise religion isn’t the path for you. For about five years we go to church because our parents want us to have good morals. They are rebellious rock fans and have this childish reckless abandon approach to parenting. But they want us to be grounded, too, so those were a lot of our first venues. But when you start questionin­g things that people don’t have the answer to, you end up getting out of that whole scene, and your parents support you in that.

You mother is your ally. When you’re 16, you start to play guitar because you want to be a badass. You go to have your first lesson with a guy, and after the lesson mom says, ‘I think we’re going to find you somebody else.’ She later tells you that the guy pulled her aside and said, ‘I would love to teach your daughter, but girls do not pay attention and they don’t play this instrument, so I don’t want to waste my time teaching somebody who isn’t serious.’ You get your balls from your mother, and she tells him off and says, ‘If you had paid any attention to the things that she talks about every day, you’d know that she is very serious about doing this, and you’re going to regret that.’

When you’re picked on in middle school, your mom will always reassure you. That’s how your song Dear Daughter will come into play. All of those situations are the little foundation­s for when you get out in the real world and carve your own path – you take those things with you. Being homeschool­ed at high school will make you work harder. You take it as a form of pride. After doing your schoolwork you can then work on music. You work ahead of schedule and end up graduating when you’re 17 because of that drive. You feel special that you have the opportunit­y to get ahead of the game with the music. You would rather have the memory of starting out with the band during high school than having your first cigarette in the bathroom.

You’ll be surprised by some people’s reactions to you as the leader of a rock band, but you’ll use their ignorance to your advantage. In the beginning, you’re blind to the limitation­s and the common misconcept­ion that girls can’t or shouldn’t. You never have that in your brain, and of course that’s ridiculous, so you carry that through, even after you are aware of that glass ceiling that everyone talks about. You just take it and use it as a weapon. One day you’re restringin­g your guitar side-stage and some of the members from some other band that were playing come up to you and say, ‘Oh, that is so cool of you, my girlfriend never does that for me when I have to restring my guitar.’ You can’t tell if he’s being a jerk or he just genuinely does not think. either way, it’s offensive! But you laugh it off and think, ‘I’ll show them.’ You take those things and you use them as your power.

You feel like an outsider now, but one day you’ll inspire a new generation of girls who love heavy music. It’s great to see these girls that are looking up at you onstage and seeing this rock thing for the first time, seeing the magic of it. You’ll love being able to say, ‘Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you can’t or shouldn’t, because I’m living proof that you can achieve all of your dreams!’

You’ll pride yourself in the long and slow, steady journey. By the time you get to the point where you’re getting attention from a major label, Halestorm have a really good idea of who you are and who you don’t want to be. There’s the same battles you were battling when you were a local band, but now you’ve moved up a level and there’s different pressures. It’s going to take a while, but be proud of that, be proud that you’re doing it the long and slow way and make sure with every step you make yourself ready. It’s important to respect that legacy and what you’re building.

ne day you’ll win a Grammy for Love Bites (So Do I), and it’ll be one of the most exciting days of your life. But you’ll never forget your roots. As an adult, you’ll find the trophy from your first talent show, where you get third place. You’ll put it right next to your Grammy! You’ll be proud of the Grammy, but you’ll realise that what’s a huge accomplish­ment is the fact you’re still here, you still love each other, you’re all still best friends and you got to go from the talent show to the Grammy in this long span of tremendous ups and downs and everything in between. What we learned from that talent show is the music chooses you, you don’t choose it. You learn that it is possible to overcome shyness.

You’re attracted to both men and women, and your honesty about this will help others. It’s something that you admit to yourself very early on but don’t say anything for a while. But this band and music gives you the confidence to be vocal in a very public setting about it, because you’re comfortabl­e in your own skin, and you would like to show that to the people who follow you. You consider sexuality the same as music. It’s free, and it’s genderless, and it’s for everyone. You have to own yourself – be unapologet­ic regardless of whether anybody else understand­s you, or if it makes somebody uncomforta­ble. You have to make yourself happy.

At a rock show, a kid will came over to you and give you a hug, and tell you, ‘I need you to call me Tom.’ She will cry in your ear and tell you she can’t talk to her parents about it, and she can’t be herself at school, but she wants to start dressing the way she wants to dress and she’s tired of living a lie. It’s so amazing to be that for somebody. You encourage her, and end up keeping in touch, and she’s taking steps to do that. It’s amazing to see that. Just to be a part of it.

In 2018, you’ll tour with maria Brink from In This moment and Ash costello from New Years Day, just because you just wanted to hang out together. The audience is a far cry from when you first start touring, in that usually it’s about 70% male, and that completely flips on this tour – it’s 70% women. And you’re seeing this living proof that music, and heavy music specifical­ly, is genderless, because you see all these women making these same moments, and owning these feelings that you get from this genre of music, and it’s amazing to see them so empowered and to be part of that.

When you’re starting out at talent shows, success seems a long way off. But by 2018, you’re touring the world and releasing your fourth album, Vicious. The new album is a journey for yourself. You start writing this record in January 2016, but when you listen to the songs, you don’t like them.

You feel uninspired and like you’re repeating yourself. Thankfully, you have amazing bandmates going through it with you, who lift you up. The producer, Nick raskulinec­z, says, ‘I want the four of you, as bandmates and best friends, to use this small studio.’ He helps us find our mojo again.

One of the standout lines on the record is, ‘What doesn’t kill me makes me vicious’, because it is so much more than being strong. You’ve been strong, you can take it, but in order to get through this particular obstacle in your head you have to be fierce and to come out swinging. It’s always eyes forward, rock forward. You’ll always have this desire to stay hungry and to prove yourself every single night.

“YOu gET YOuR bALLS fROM YOuR MOTHER”

SEXIST GUITAR TEACHERS DIDN’T STAND A CHANCE AGAINST LZZY’S MOM

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 ??  ?? HALESTORM’S FOURTH ALBUM, Vicious, IS OUT NOW VIA ATLANTIC. HALESTORM TOUR THE UK IN SEPTEMBER – SEE P.109
HALESTORM’S FOURTH ALBUM, Vicious, IS OUT NOW VIA ATLANTIC. HALESTORM TOUR THE UK IN SEPTEMBER – SEE P.109
 ??  ?? Halestorm: still best friends after all these years
Halestorm: still best friends after all these years

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