Interview With the Vampires
Rolling Stone Magazine
Eyes to some vacant souls.
Dark rockers Virgos Merlot gain on success. First
interviews are a bitch. Without the experience and knowledge of a hardened celeb,
neophyte rock stars forget to self-edit and find the id taking over. Things
like, "Our look is Duran Duran on acid," or "If I wanted to see some guy play in
his blue jeans and T-shirt, I'd go watch some karaoke," or "We know what Marilyn
Manson has been through -- we read his book" come dripping off the tongue to
journalists bearing poison pens, and ultimately land on the pages of glossy
magazines -- or the virtual ones on the Web. Either way, those words have
permanence, and in retrospect can cause many a band to cringe knowing their lips
had parted with such absurdity. Fortunately for Virgos Merlot, their eminent
future will give them a chance to learn how to control those aforementioned
ramblings. That's because, with or without an attractive lead singer or an
ensemble clad in pale-blue contact lenses, Virgos Merlot rock. Their
three-pronged guitar attack and seething Chris Cornell-esque vocals scream
Seattle, but their gothic get-up and dark undertones betray their southern
roots. On their debut, Signs of a Vacant Soul, the metal-edged "The Cycle"
smells like Alice in Chains, "Kiss My Disease" is the type of crossover
slow-slow-fast ballad favored by Lite-FM, and the single "Gain" is as infectious
as it is brooding. It's almost impossible not to utter "grunge" in the same
sentence as the band's namesake (which guitarist Marchant interprets as "the
astrological sign of the Virgin, and the blend of all of our musical tastes").
But the loose-lipped southerners are quick to rebut. "I don't think it's
grunge," bassist Chris Dickerson coyly insists as he and two of his bandmates
field questions in the New York offices of their label, Atlantic Records. "It's
big guitars and heavy sounds and punchiness, but grunge was all depressing. This
stuff has that feel, until you listen to what is being said to you." True
enough. Most of Signs of a Vacant Soul weaves dark, aggressive chords and vocals
with introspective lyrics of self-realization. "We're definitely into more
poetic songs, rather than catchy sayings," adds Marchant. "And we're serious
about everything. We wanted to get something together that was really good, that
was undeniable." No wonder Virgos have such candid esteem for their work. Having
spent barely eighteen months as a band, they've never seen the rejection and
disappointment that being within arm's length of success -- and watching it slip
away -- can bring. "We recorded our demo, which ended up being our record, and
we took it to management, and one month after we gave it to him, he had us a
showcase," guitarist "Deacon" Ted Ledbetter (who is anything but a man of the
cloth) boasts. "Eight or nine labels showed up, and we got signed that night."
With "Gain" just added to radio, and having wrapped up a host of shows with the
likes of Fuel, Tonic, Creed and Goo Goo Dolls, the quintet out of Birmingham,
Alabama, have reason to brag. Of course, they should still learn to keep the
embarrassing sound bites to a minimum. Fat chance -- as long as the tape is
rolling, they intend to barrage the media with quotable quotes. In the words of
Deacon: "If you got into this business and you have a problem with fame, you
picked the wrong business." Move over Scott Weiland. A new glam contingent is
ready for its close-up.
HEIDI SHERMAN (March 17, 1999)
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