Belligerent thrash guitar. Moronic hip-hop-influenced vocals. Really stupid goatees. These are the calling cards of nu-metal, a genre most people would just as soon like to forget. During its prime, between the late 90s and early 00s, this subgenre of metal became inexplicably popular, with lunkheads like Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit leading the charge. It didn’t take long for the nu-metal bubble to burst, as people rapidly tired of the genre’s shamelessly bloated, violent vibe. This experiment in crossing rap and rock fell flat on its face, mostly thanks to a level of media exposure that jammed it down everyone’s throats until people realized how absurd it was. However, one nu-metal band still finds its way into my listening rotation every now and then. One nu-metal band has continued to hold my interest. Even despite the bassist’s annoyingly long goatee, System Of A Down are still pretty damn awesome.
First of all, you’ve got to deal with the band’s background. Much has been written about the fact that all four band members have Armenian heritage and how this influences their music. It’s true, Middle Eastern music is perpetually lurking just out of sight when you listen to System Of A Down and, yes, their Armenian background motivates the political content of their songs. This does make them a unique act among modern metal bands. However, it’s always good to remember that SOAD are based in California. They’re as American as they are Armenian. They’re not world music.
That said, SOAD have never really sounded like their metal peers. First, you’ve got Serj Tankian’s voice, which tends to jump from operatic bombast to throat-shredding screaming at a moment’s notice. There’s also Tankian’s inflection on his words, which tends to make everything sound slightly goofy and odd. Metal fans aren’t really accustomed to hearing a singer enunciate every last word, but Tankian is determined to make sure you understand every word. Add in Daron Malakian’s love of thin, nervy guitar riffs and you’ve got a skewed interpretation of modern metal on your hands.
Then you’ve got the politics. Lots of hard rock bands have tackled the tricky task of expressing their political views through music, but too few do it with any grace or effectiveness. System Of A Down do both, though rarely at the same time. Unlike lots of political punk, their rants aren’t just boiled down to neat catchphrases that you can yell while pumping your fist in the air. A song like “Prison Song” actually features statistics placed prominently in the middle of verses. While musically the song is a grating slice of metallic intensity, the politics come across with an impressive air of authority. At the other end of that continuum, in contrast to older political bands like Rage Against The Machine, you’ve got songs like “Toxicity”, that lose some of the specificity, but dress up their political manifestos in poetic lines like “somewhere between the sacred silence and sleep.” The politics in SOAD can still be awkward, but they get their points across easier and with more evocative language than virtually any of their peers.
The hyperactive nature of so many SOAD songs can make it hard to take them seriously. Exactly how are we supposed to deal with songs with titles like “This Cocaine Makes Me Feel Like I’m On This Song” or brief sketches of nonsense like “Bounce”? This is where my defense of System Of A Down takes a strange turn. When I say SOAD are part of grand artistic traditions like Dadaism and absurdism, I’m not just name-dropping highfalutin words in an attempt to sound educated (although, I am doing that when I use “highfalutin” in a sentence). I honestly feel that dementedly twisted lyrics like “it’s a non-stop disco, bet you it’s Nabisco, bet you didn’t know, whoo-hoo!” are fantastic because they just make no sense whatsoever. SOAD’s rapid fire assault of words suits their obsessions with modern social evils and pop culture. The random word associations and bug-eyed metal anthems about pogo sticks add some necessary humor to SOAD’s often serious subject matter, all while sneaking some satire and black comedy in through the back door.
I’m certainly not claiming System Of A Down are a great band that deserves to be lifted up on the shoulders of millions of adoring fans. They’re still a rather overblown, bombastic pop-metal band, featuring some very unsubtle political agendas. However, they deserve better to be grouped into the umbrella of dismissal that’s been looming over the nu-metal genre for most of this decade. They’ve consistently made bizarre, abrasive music that feels at odds with the prevailing musical trends of their era. They’ve stuck to their guns when it comes to their political intensity and they’ve done wonders for raising awareness of Armenia’s tragic history. They’re currently on hiatus, but perhaps this is for the best. Assuming they’ll eventually return, perhaps this time off will help people disassociate them from the thick-skulled dullness of nu-metal and give them more of a clean slate upon their return.
First of all, you’ve got to deal with the band’s background. Much has been written about the fact that all four band members have Armenian heritage and how this influences their music. It’s true, Middle Eastern music is perpetually lurking just out of sight when you listen to System Of A Down and, yes, their Armenian background motivates the political content of their songs. This does make them a unique act among modern metal bands. However, it’s always good to remember that SOAD are based in California. They’re as American as they are Armenian. They’re not world music.
That said, SOAD have never really sounded like their metal peers. First, you’ve got Serj Tankian’s voice, which tends to jump from operatic bombast to throat-shredding screaming at a moment’s notice. There’s also Tankian’s inflection on his words, which tends to make everything sound slightly goofy and odd. Metal fans aren’t really accustomed to hearing a singer enunciate every last word, but Tankian is determined to make sure you understand every word. Add in Daron Malakian’s love of thin, nervy guitar riffs and you’ve got a skewed interpretation of modern metal on your hands.
Then you’ve got the politics. Lots of hard rock bands have tackled the tricky task of expressing their political views through music, but too few do it with any grace or effectiveness. System Of A Down do both, though rarely at the same time. Unlike lots of political punk, their rants aren’t just boiled down to neat catchphrases that you can yell while pumping your fist in the air. A song like “Prison Song” actually features statistics placed prominently in the middle of verses. While musically the song is a grating slice of metallic intensity, the politics come across with an impressive air of authority. At the other end of that continuum, in contrast to older political bands like Rage Against The Machine, you’ve got songs like “Toxicity”, that lose some of the specificity, but dress up their political manifestos in poetic lines like “somewhere between the sacred silence and sleep.” The politics in SOAD can still be awkward, but they get their points across easier and with more evocative language than virtually any of their peers.
The hyperactive nature of so many SOAD songs can make it hard to take them seriously. Exactly how are we supposed to deal with songs with titles like “This Cocaine Makes Me Feel Like I’m On This Song” or brief sketches of nonsense like “Bounce”? This is where my defense of System Of A Down takes a strange turn. When I say SOAD are part of grand artistic traditions like Dadaism and absurdism, I’m not just name-dropping highfalutin words in an attempt to sound educated (although, I am doing that when I use “highfalutin” in a sentence). I honestly feel that dementedly twisted lyrics like “it’s a non-stop disco, bet you it’s Nabisco, bet you didn’t know, whoo-hoo!” are fantastic because they just make no sense whatsoever. SOAD’s rapid fire assault of words suits their obsessions with modern social evils and pop culture. The random word associations and bug-eyed metal anthems about pogo sticks add some necessary humor to SOAD’s often serious subject matter, all while sneaking some satire and black comedy in through the back door.
I’m certainly not claiming System Of A Down are a great band that deserves to be lifted up on the shoulders of millions of adoring fans. They’re still a rather overblown, bombastic pop-metal band, featuring some very unsubtle political agendas. However, they deserve better to be grouped into the umbrella of dismissal that’s been looming over the nu-metal genre for most of this decade. They’ve consistently made bizarre, abrasive music that feels at odds with the prevailing musical trends of their era. They’ve stuck to their guns when it comes to their political intensity and they’ve done wonders for raising awareness of Armenia’s tragic history. They’re currently on hiatus, but perhaps this is for the best. Assuming they’ll eventually return, perhaps this time off will help people disassociate them from the thick-skulled dullness of nu-metal and give them more of a clean slate upon their return.
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