Machine Head - The Standard-Bearers of Groove-Metal

The '90s in metal were the years of alternative metal and the explosion of US bands under the banner of the so-called "New Wave Of American Heavy Metal". These terms shouldn't be taken as precise genre labels, but rather as a broad scene encompassing several styles that emerged during these years, often blending into one another, such as groove-metal or nu-metal.

Groove in particular emerged as an offshoot of thrash-metal, with songs played at a midtempo pace, placing greater emphasis on cadenced rhythms, irregular time changes and down-tuned guitars. The founders of the style are generally considered to be, above all, the American band Pantera, with their 1990 album "Cowboys From Hell", though other bands quickly joined them, such as Biohazard or, from Brazil, Sepultura. The years in which groove-metal took shape and consolidated, while also laying one of the sonic foundations that nu-metal would soon draw inspiration from, run roughly from 1990 to 1995: in the years that followed, the genre was mostly subjected to commercial exploitation, amid mediocre spin-offs, self-plagiarism and an accumulation of stylistic cliches. So much so that among many devotees of more traditional metal, especially old-school thrashers, groove-metal has what we might call a discredited reputation. Indeed, many groove bands reject the label altogether, precisely to avoid being associated with the negative connotation the style has taken on in relation to thrash-metal. Nonetheless, the genre has also produced several worthwhile bands, some of which became highly influential within metal.

Machine Head were somewhat latecomers to the first wave of groove-metal, managing to debut only after other bands in the movement had already done so, but they quickly became one of the genre's main points of reference thanks to the quality of their early work - which went on to inspire numerous alternative and extreme metal bands - and to the distinctive personal stamp of their style, or rather that of leader and founder Robb Flynn, who managed to put forward a renewed take on groove-metal at a time when the genre seemed to have already said everything it had to say. Granted, Machine Head too went through a phase of commercial drift, drawing criticism from part of the audience and the specialist press, but they later managed to bounce back, producing work of decent quality. Let's go through it in order.

Robert Conrad "Robb" Flynn, born Lawrence Matthew Cardine, is the mastermind behind Machine Head, which he founded in 1991 in the Bay Area (home of thrash) together with bassist Adam Duce, after a brief stint as guitarist in the thrash bands Forbidden and Vio-Lence. After recruiting Logan Mader as lead guitarist and Tony Costanza as drummer, the band recorded a demo on a shoestring, which nevertheless caught the attention of Roadrunner. Having signed a contract, Machine Head went into the studio and, despite Costanza's departure midway through the recording (replaced by Chris Kontos), completed Burn My Eyes. Produced under the aegis of Colin Richardson (who, alongside colleague Andy Sneap, would go on to define much of the metal sound of the new millennium), it's an album clearly in the wake of Pantera, an openly declared major influence on the band, not only in its driving, "groovy" riffing, but also in Flynn's vocal lines, which often echo Phil Anselmo's screamed delivery before pushing it further into ferocity, following the path blazed by Burton C. Bell of Fear Factory. But Machine Head introduce several innovations, first and foremost a far more extreme attitude, born both of hardcore-punk and of the explosive thrash of Slayer and Exodus; beyond that, the atmospheres turn extremely bleak and terrifying, both sonically and thematically, and here too one can trace the influence of early Fear Factory.

The riffs are vicious and razor-sharp: they strike a balance in which the slowdowns, breakdowns and syncopated rhythms of groove-metal set up the subsequent distorted guitar explosions all the more effectively. The rhythm section is heart-stopping, thanks to Kontos's rock-solid work, hammering the skins with violence and surgical precision despite the problems encountered during production.

The lyrics come close to those of contemporary, somewhat kindred bands such as Sepultura or Fear Factory in terms of social critique; Flynn channels the intense civil tension that was gripping the United States in those years (with explicit references to the 1992 Los Angeles riots and the 1993 Waco siege) and ramps it up with his ferocious screams.

Burn My Eyes achieves great critical and commercial success, immediately selling over 400,000 copies, the label's best-selling debut up to that point. It's a seminal work that would influence, even if only in small doses, an entire generation of bands, quite different from one another, and even some acts already active on the scene - among many we can mention Nevermore, Slipknot, Soulfly, Avenged Sevenfold, Killswitch Engage, Mnemic, Meshuggah, Gojira, Trivium, Lamb Of God, Byzantine... even Metallica would later openly admit to having drawn inspiration from Machine Head (though with results of lesser quality).

The excellent Kontos subsequently left the band to join Testament, and was replaced by Dave McClain. Machine Head went through a very demanding period before managing to regroup and write their second album, once again produced by Richardson. The More Things Change... was thus released in 1997, and it's an even darker record, partly as a result of the influence of the psychological violence found on the Korn's eponymous debut masterpiece, which had come out at the same time as Machine Head's own debut. Unfortunately, this isn't fully exploited in the lyrics, which at times seem to lose inspiration, coming across more as poorly reasoned outbursts than anything else. While the lyrics are somewhat disappointing, on the other hand the songwriting becomes more technical and demanding, so much so that the audience's initial reaction was somewhat cool compared to the debut.

Essentially, if Burn My Eyes was a tripudium of furious emotions set to music, The More Things Change... attempts to "tame" that ferocity with more complex compositions, greater care in the arrangements and especially in the rhythm section, with bass lines taking on greater importance and more frequent use of breaks within the riffing. Meanwhile, Flynn's screams, also thanks to the inspiration drawn from the versatile Bell of Fear Factory, have become more personal, finally finding their own dimension detached from Pantera and also opening up to more melodic, reflective interludes.

After the album's release, Logan Mader left the band and was replaced by Ahrue Luster.

1999 saw the release of the anomalous The Burning Red. Anomalous, because the band veered towards a significant degree of contamination from nu-metal, which was at that moment enjoying its widest popularity. Flynn, in particular, had by then become utterly captivated by the themes and aesthetics that bands like Korn had by then popularized, recognizing in Jonathan Davis's troubled childhood echoes of his own struggles. Even the band's image changed, as if all the members had suddenly been replaced by impersonators of various nu-metal bands. The strongest influences on the record are nonetheless those of Slipknot (extreme nu-metal), Limp Bizkit (somewhere between nu-metal and crossover), but also Biohazard, groove-metal masters who had experimented with rap insertions. Production duties went to Ross Robinson, who had "created" the distinctive dark, raw sound of nu-metal, which shows the clear intent to sound just like those bands.

All things considered, it's an accessible and interesting record, built on rage and melody, and it introduces into the Californians' arsenal solutions that were unprecedented for them up to that point, including even some rapped parts that seem modelled on Limp Bizkit. Several songs also manage to be quite engaging. The problem - which places it on a lower level of spontaneity compared to similar work done in the same period by bands that, while different, are nonetheless kindred spirits, such as Fear Factory ("Obsolete") or Sepultura ("Roots"), and which ultimately caps the record at a decent rather than excellent result - is that repetitiveness and inconsistency also emerge. These make the whole thing sound a bit contrived, like a pre-calculated operation designed to ride the coattails of other bands, rather than a conscious attempt to absorb and metabolize the new style.

"Five" tells of a childhood abuse suffered by Flynn at the age of 5, but it doesn't reach the pathos and inner drama of the archetypal "Daddy" by Korn. The band alternates riffs, or even entire songs, that sound like blatant imitations of the young Limp Bizkit (or the more seasoned Biohazard) with others that sound far more personal, especially in the moments closest to groove-metal. It's as if the band weren't entirely at ease and felt forced to follow certain set coordinates, unable to truly express themselves freely except on occasion, which brings out the inconsistency mentioned above. At the same time, Robb Flynn at times seems to be tracing the vocal lines of a Corey Taylor or a Jonathan Davis (note the crooning in "Silver"), before bringing out his own more genuine repertoire in a rather unharmonious way.

The one exception to this wavering attitude is new recruit Ahrue Luster, who fully absorbs the style, though unfortunately without ever being in perfect sync with the rest of the band. It should be noted, however, that several of the more rap-metal parts find greater common ground with Biohazard than with the trends most in vogue in the mainstream at the end of the decade, testifying to a sincere attempt to merge different eras at that moment. It's a shame the album's balance doesn't fully benefit from this, because the path taken has a lot to say, yet between the lines Flynn and co. don't seem entirely convinced by it. Other bands were experimenting in those years with the meeting point between groove and nu, managing to display real personality (we feel compelled to mention Soulfly, who sprang from an offshoot of Sepultura), and all things considered, there are interesting ideas to be found in The Burning Red regardless. There's also a decent cover of The Police's "Message In A Bottle".

Metal audiences, as expected, reacted very negatively and accused Machine Head of selling out. Nu-metal fans, on the other hand, embraced it wholeheartedly, turning the album into the band's biggest commercial success.

The formula is further explored in 2001 with Supercharger, but the result falls short of expectations and doesn't live up to its imperfect yet solid predecessor. The album is more balanced and compact, but it loses in variety and gains in conformism. As a result, it also feels less personal, tremendously derivative and stereotyped. To make matters worse, by the standards of mainstream nu-metal it already sounds 2-3 years out of date. The production, handled by Johnny K (3 Doors Down, Disturbed), leaves much to be desired: Duce's bass sounds flattened and wasted, McClain's drums simplified and muffled, the guitars lacking bite both in the riffing and the distortion. Flynn's vocal lines, meanwhile, become much flatter, and the lyrics come across as almost post-adolescent parodies of nu-metal.

It will be the band's lowest-selling album to date and gets panned pretty much everywhere, even by much of the nu-metal crowd, who find it boring and predictable. Nu-metal itself had by then reached its commercial peak, before giving way to other trends like melodic metalcore.

After the flop of this album, Ahrue Luster leaves his role as guitarist due to artistic differences and joins the latin-nu-metal band Ill Niño, handing his spot to Phil Demmel (already a former bandmate of Flynn's in Vio-Lence), who becomes a permanent member.

The band risks breaking up, though, due to problems with their label, which cuts funding after the commercial failure of Supercharger. Things are made worse by the video for "Crashing Around You", which MTV censors because it shows burning buildings collapsing — an unfortunate choice given the sensitive climate following the September 11 attacks.

The live album Hellalive is released solely to fulfill contractual obligations. Flynn starts looking around for new opportunities and self-produces the new record, but in the end a deal is reached with Roadrunner through a new contract that grants Machine Head greater creative freedom and total control over their music.

The following album, Through The Ashes Of Empires, comes out in December 2003 and essentially disowns the previous two records, except for, mutatis mutandis, a relatively greater leaning toward melody, especially in some clean-vocal choruses. Stylistically, the band picks up where The More Things Change left off. Production is handled by Flynn himself, who goes for a particularly sharp sound that highlights the distortion and rhythm section. The result is an extremely powerful, granite-hard, relentless groove-thrash, a touch deliberately formulaic but as sharp as they come. It recovers the violence of the debut and the technique and darkness of the second album. The album's flagship track is the opener "Imperium", which makes the shift clear through heavy thrash riffs, groove breaks and a mix of refrains and breakdowns that tie back to '90s metalcore.

Flynn finds himself back in his element, with far more inspired vocal lines and lyrics: in the meantime, the fiery singer has turned his screamed delivery into an easily recognizable trademark. It all comes together in explosive, hammering tracks that make up one of the most gripping examples of how thrash metal evolved into the new millennium. A devastating, lethal album, powerful and violent yet steeped in melody, "epic" in its own way but also dark, which achieves solid success (the video for "Imperium" gets played in rotation on MTV).

All of this, however, isn't enough to revive the fortunes of groove-metal, which — aside from Machine Head and a handful of other acts (like, more recently, Byzantine) — is dealt a severe blow by Pantera's breakup in 2003 and isn't in particularly good shape as the new millennium begins. With nu-metal imploding, the metal market is now leaning toward the new explosion of melodic metalcore, which indeed starts to influence Machine Head themselves as well.

2007 brings The Blackening, which expands the band's technical chops and more virtuosic side, to the point of stretching song lengths at the expense of immediacy, without giving up the violence that's been ingrained in the band's soul from the start — violence that, if anything, becomes even more emphasized. The band updates the style of the previous album, aiming for complex compositions that edge closer to technical thrash and progressive. It's all played flawlessly, with an imposing yet deliberately more abrasive production, particularly dark atmospheres and deep lyrics. The band, however, indulges a bit too often in melodramatic, overblown passages, which, combined with the album's length (1 hour for 8 tracks), can make for a somewhat heavy listen, not for everyone.

It remains, in any case, a remarkable, heart-pounding progressive-groove-metal album, tinged with the colors of the harshest metalcore (Lamb Of God in particular). The sound, finally, is especially clean, crisp and powerful thanks to the return of Colin Richardson, who, alongside other producers like Andy Sneap or Fredrik Nordström, is helping define the metal sound of the new millennium. But the band's greatest satisfaction comes from the masters themselves, Metallica, who have stated that they drew inspiration from this very album for their much less successful "Death Magnetic". The success would be renewed in subsequent works, proof of a quartet in a state of grace.

The summa of Machine Head's journey at this point arrives in 2011 with Unto The Locust. It's an album that doesn't add anything new to the band's style, but interprets with meticulous craftsmanship the ingredients used so far: power, melody, technique, violence, drama, existentialism, epicness. Compared to The Blackening, there's a more direct approach, which doesn't stop the band from writing relatively long tracks. The result, though, feels less fresh, or at least more limited. Some tracks are perhaps a bit too monotonous and predictable in the second half of the album. The band has found a winning formula, crafting an excellent exercise in style that allows them to write even excellent albums, but not masterpieces destined to become milestones in metal history.

Unfortunately, bassist and co-founder Adam Duce leaves the band due to creative differences at the end of this period, leaving everything in Flynn's hands alone.

With Jared MacEachern brought in on bass, 2014 sees the release of Bloodstone & Diamonds, which stylistically continues along the lines of the previous records, expanding the songwriting in a darker, heavier direction. It's a work of strong expressiveness, power and technique, even if once again a bit long-winded, and one that doesn't shy away from emphatic tones (for instance, "In Comes The Flood", with its chorus screaming at the top of its lungs "wake up America") that might come across as pompous on first listen. Meanwhile, the lyrics have become even bleaker and more politicized, more explicit in reflecting the sociocultural context of the 2010s in a way similar to how many thrash classics did in the '80s. Flynn's vocal expressiveness is at its peak, reaching levels of pathos rarely matched elsewhere in the band's career. The rhythm section deserves praise too, thanks especially to newcomer Jared MacEachern, who worthily replaces Duce on bass. Bloodstone & Diamonds is once again an exercise in style, but a solid and inspired one.

The band's most recent album came out in 2018, titled Catharsis. It shows a simplification of the style consolidated over the previous records, paired with a return to some of the sounds of the controversial 1999-2001 period. The song structures and riffing set aside the band's trademark lethal sounds and technical flourishes in favor of more syncopated patterns and greater room for melodic power chords. At the same time, some of the solemn atmospheres of the last few albums are retained in an attempt at an ambitious fusion. The result is a groove-metal that tries to pervasively incorporate nu-metal and hardcore-punk, but ends up sounding dated.

This is an album that will undoubtedly divide listeners, not just because of the change in direction but because it's uneven, alternating catchy, driving tracks with others that are far more bland and lacking in ideas. In the end, the result is neither fish nor fowl, and it sounds anonymous next to various acts of the last two decades who also drew inspiration from Machine Head themselves (just a few months earlier came Byzantine's "The Cicada Tree", a far more focused record). A key to understanding this album is probably to be found by looking at Phil Anselmo of Pantera. In 2016, Anselmo was at the center of an unfortunate racist incident that Flynn strongly criticized; a feud broke out and harsh words were exchanged, with Anselmo branding Machine Head's nu-metal period as "n*gger music". Hurt, Flynn stated in a video message denouncing the incident that he would cut all ties with Pantera, feeling betrayed, and would never again play one of their songs. We imagine that this Catharsis, despite its flaws, is a way of expressing an impulsive break.

On September 28, 2018, Flynn released a video revealing the departures of Demmel and McClain and announcing that the band would nonetheless finish the tour, which would now be a farewell tour. The somewhat ambiguous announcement was interpreted as the band's breakup and was mechanically repeated across the music press, but Flynn clarified: he was referring to "the farewell tour for this lineup, for this era of Machine Head".

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