Cream puffs need not apply. Tool
s an angry, hard and confrontation-
al group from down Los Angeles
way. They play music to eat meat
to. "We have a knack of stirring up
shit with very group in the world,"
explains ocalist Maynard James
Koonan with the feministhey're
like, (his olce raises to notty
whine all about manowart
becne of our wrench logoer Son
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mung hn Keenan, who roho
ple are pissed off is because they
on't have the bjeguit, in others
dan boleve there's a God einer Audience is sont into a females pit
ool feeds off the energy-dublog
heir contral from the uncontrol
as a "scatterbrained, caffeinth's a huge energy out they
bild admits he doesn't have things, but I really despiso
ngh of. "The reason why most negea of a heaven and hell."
The song "Hush hits hard on con-
ship, but the video, with Tool's
agreement, was censored. "It was
Our way of saying, get it, it's over.
There's no use ging. After
Hennedy and King was shot, we
st. It was a revolution and we lost
words, whatever
it is that those
want, whatev
ple, who are
nvolved in multimodals who con-
rol everything honey, power.
You don't have so you want it.
Like the chaos around them, Tool
formed by accident. The mombank
Adam Jones, who was gitarist
riend Keenan, who ang ami
in neighbor Danny Carey, wha
ved drums, and B'Amour,
TOOL
btle phallic shape you
erpot it as you will but our
more to do with uho whit
You're not going
ou better beat
change people.
join 'em. It's
ust too big to fight The Oplate
r civil rights. I dont consider my
ude a pessimise, because
you get to that point ahore you real-
that just being gand night and
her people through delusions of a righteous isn't going to change any
you have can't play guita
cART
p's title track is the control of
gabass or drums. All I can
There is too much shit the
higher power-Jesus freaks, evan-ng. Power: we don't have it, so
word so try and change, so all casts, and the like. Being from the tanta. That's what it's about."
ve dabbled on the bass) poh
came from somowane les, and
ended up in Los Angeles where they
hung out together Adam and
to friends, and tested making
e noises. Danny
d in, cause
df drummer never showed up. Paul
came to LA to work on a movie, that
adn't pan out, so he started playing
diacream until I feel better Andigley Christian state of Michigagal need for power and control with us. Then we wrote songs,
Inat's what I'm doing."
It is outspoken in his religie
pod is also about control, some
aplona There is no Satan
screeching through Toolsayed a party, and got trapped into
Campery gig they play. As the Soing a band."
-Sara Tassione
CHANE
"We like to make people angry and unhappy. We hope we make you angry
and unhappy, snarled volatile Green Magnet School vocalist/guitarist Chris
Pearson at a recent gig in Burlington, Vermont, just before the band began
their torturous, mid-tempo metalindustrial grind
Angry yes, unhappy no. Not unless your idea of unhappy is three uncon-
ventionally blaring guitars bisecting bloody-throated vocals, terse pummeing
drums, and raw, throbbing bass. Not unless you find the genuine pain and
torment of five extremely disturbed individuals channeled through a viscer
al, mind-blowing musical wasteland tiresome. Not unless defiantly original
noise-rock bathed in sulfuric acid is beyond your grasp.
What we're trying to do is contuse people by overloading them with infor
mation. There's so much going on that if you really try to concentrate on it
all, it will give you a headache," says the ever-hostile Pearson.
Perhaps the most appealing element of Green Magnet School's sonic
slaughterhouse is the way the band's three guitarists each play different
rhythms within a song, fighting, screaming and wailing for dominance. With
three guitars, you have three different songs. We're basically taking three
songs and layering them on top of each other," says guitarist Tim Shea.
Pearson and Shea met at a small state college in Framingham,
Massachusetts. At the time, Pearson who grew up in Cape Cod skateboarding
and listening to punk rock, and Shea, who had grown up in urban squalor,
was mainly a headbanger. "When I first saw Tim. I was going through his
record collection and he had all these records with blood and gore on the cov-
ers, and I thought. Oh, no, this guy's a metalhead. He's going to eat me
alive when I'm asleep or something. But we wound up being really good
friends and he opened my mind to a lot of metal," says Pearson
While the two musicians occasionally jammed, they never seriously con
sidered forming a band together until 1988, well after they had finished school.
"Chris was in this incredibly lame band at the time, and so was I. So we'd get
the two bands together and make a super-lame band," says Shea.
After going through a number of personnel changes. Green Magnet final-
by secured its line-up last September with Pearson, Shea, Can Keskin (gui-
tar), Stephen Smith (bass), and Greg Gilmartin (drums).
Experimentation and innovation frequently go hand in hand. Green Magnet
School know this, but they also know experimenting in rock encourages a cer-
tain fringe element. "We've had some weird people come to our shows."
admits Pearson. "I had some interesting looking people came up to me and
say, "I saw you guys on acid and it was amazing! But that's cool. I would like
to see us on acid. But actually, our music is very unpleasant on acid. That
last time I dosed, me and Tim listened to our record and I ended up sitting in
Tim's closet by myself shivering for five hours. I just couldn't deal with it
-Jon Wiederhorn
green magnet school MUTE
"We left out to the sound of buckshot rain..."
PW kicked off by takin' Virginia in a drive-away
before the tour. He knew some Swedish sailors
somewhere in Shock-o-Bottom, VA, that owed him
more than a few favors. He drank the night and
with the help of alcohol and a poker game, he
secured us a second vehicle. He made it back to
Detroit with a couple hours sleep, ready to load
up for Canada...we missed soundcheck
We had booked about forty shows on our own
without even so much as a 7". Jim was riding in his
Chevy, leaving only as much room as his drum
set and girlfriend would provide. I wasn't lucky.
enough to have the refuge of female companion-
ship, I only had PW and a 74 Volvo with about
200,000 miles on it.
"What the fuck was that?"
"What was what... I didn't hear nothing." I had a
towel wrapped around my head so I could sleep
in daylight, but Preston wouldn't let me.
"The car just took a fuckin' shit and you're... look
at the fucking temperature gauge, Jesus Christ!"
I looked down, thinking it'll be fine, so long as it
don't go anymore into the red.
We ended up on the side of the road. The pul
ley holding the accelerator belt was sheared
completely off the crank, not to mention the belt
was wasted. Lucky for us, Todd from Cop Shoot
Cop had left some panty hose in our car (appar-
ently men's briefs chaff him). So we strung it
together with duct tape and it held till we made
Baltimore, two hours later. Modern-day cowboys.
But the worst of the Volvo was the smell. Per-
sonally, I've never owned a foreign job. I had fas-
tened together a small still, jaihouse style with a
copper pot I found filled with cold water. I used
the radiator we pulled out of the car in Montreal
for the cooling coil-that crap about lead poison-
ing is all bullshit. I could only use it when we had
all the music equipment out the car, which wasn't
often enough. Unfortunately, the smell lingered on
for days after each run and the car smelled like
Louisville, KY in the summertime.
We had Tennessee plates, cause it costs only
$30.00 for a title transfer, plates and registration.
The best part though... no insurance necessary.
Drive all over the country, no insurance and legal
"Can I see your license and registration?"
I always thought Michigan state troopers were
coal, but we were in Georgia.
"Officer, I wasn't speeding... ...
Bam! That cop backhanded me just about as
hard as he'd hit his wife.
"Shut up! I clocked you doing seventy-three
miles fast, boy."
The Georgia trooper left my side of the car and
headed over to the passenger side. "Son, roll down
your window."
Preston hesitated a bit and did what he was told.
Bam! He naled PW as hard as he hit me and
then some.
But I wasn't doing nothing wrong......
"You shut your mouth too! That's for when you
go leaving down the highway so that you don't start
bragging, Why if that flat foot bastard would of hit
me like that...
Footnote: Mule's relationship with the Volvo has
ended and now all three members and their equip-
ment can travel together. The still's fate is unde-
cided at press time.
-Kevin Munro