16 November 30 - December 6, 2023 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents In November of that year, Power Trip would be nominated for a Grammy. But three months before, in late August, Gale died unexpectedly at the age of 34. The sudden loss struck a deep chasm in the bed- rock of the Dallas hardcore community. Gale was a man of conviction. While still in school, and despite his own small stature, he stood up for the kids who’d been picked on by bullies, Gale’s father told reporters af- ter his death. He’d been a fierce defender of LGBTQ+ youth and an advocate for social justice reform. “I think that racism is still very alive in this country and it needs to be dealt with,” Gale told the Observer in June 2020 amid the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement. “It’s going to take a lot of work — but for us, I stand on the side of peace and love.” That ethos, coupled with Gale’s uncom- promising work ethic, still permeates the North Texas heavy music realm today. Power Trip guitarist Nick Stewart recalls coming up in a scene that barely had a pulse. The only hardcore bands to really commit to out-of-state touring were Iron Age, Bitter End and Gale’s first group, Balls Out. Hardly anyone was swinging for the fences. Stewart, who’s been booking shows for some time, remembers curating stacked hardcore bills around 2006 and 2007. Even if the acts were from California or New York, relatively few folks would come through. He felt particularly bad after booking a band from Belgium that played to a room of around 30 kids. Power Trip wanted to change that kind of ambivalence. “I think we were just like, ‘We’re kind of tired of this. No one’s really sacrificing or trying to go for it,’” Stewart says. “And I think that’s when we started to see how far we could take it.” First, Power Trip embarked on a nine- day tour, which Stewart calls a “disaster.” The next tour was a full U.S. outing: “also somewhat of a disaster — but fun.” Instead of giving up, the quintet kept pushing them- selves, doing research and putting in the time and work. When Power Trip was founded in 2008, there was no real blueprint to follow. “We had no idea what we were doing,” Stewart quips. A couple of little things helped out on their ascent, like getting a church van. And, over time, the scene gradually began to shift. “I think it just took a couple of bands that could do it and have any kind of success at all to kind of start making things move around here,” he says. Stewart describes a sort of elitism that used to flow through the region; you could be in the punk scene or metal scene or hard- core scene, but you had to pick one. It isn’t as segregated today. Power Trip pulled influ- ence from the Bay Area and New York hard- core scene, and North Texas is now coated in a metallic-hardcore patina. “It’s all metallic in ways, whether it be like Creeping Death or Fugitive, obviously — Blake’s other band has a Power Trip sound but it’s kind of their own thing still,” Stewart con- tinues. “But it’s all kind of derived from that metallic sound that blends that unique cross- over of hardcore-punk and metal, and you can take it in multiple different directions.” Crowd attendance lately is like “night and day” compared with the early scene, says Stewart, who books local shows at Dou- ble Wide in Dallas. Social media makes it easy to spread the word about gigs, and ven- ues like Rubber Gloves in Denton often en- joy huge turnouts. To Stewart, it seems that the metallic- hardcore style is resonating with younger crowds. “Everybody has something to say nowadays, and there’s a lot of stupid shit going on in the world,” he says. “So, what better way to express it than heavy music?” The DFW scene is the one to watch for qual- ity bands, Stewart says, pointing to Fro- zen Soul, Creeping Death, Tribal Gaze, Laughing Matter, Proxy, Ozone and Urn as exam- ples. Other Texas bands on his radar include Mexican Coke, Skourge (frontman Seth Gilmore also screams for Fugitive), Criaturas and Inner Self. The list could go on. For many, growing up in the Lone Star State instills a blue-collar work ethic, Stew- art says. They know they’ll have to bust their ass and grit their teeth to see results. Look- ing back on Power Trip’s rise to metal star- dom, it took luck, determination and a willingness to grind. Today’s scene is in a good spot, he adds: “It seems to be getting bigger and there’s more bands. “And when more bands are around, there’s better bands.” T he dense air on the night of Sunday, Aug. 20, feels like Satan left the broiler on and the oven door open. Metallica’s second-night set at AT&T Stadium in Ar- lington is well underway, pyrotechnics ablaze, and no one in the audience cares that they’re about to start the workweek dehydrated and hungover. Even at 60, frontman James Hetfield’s en- ergy could outlast the Duracell rab- bit. He takes a moment between songs to warmly welcome first-timers to the Metallica “family.” Two days before, the afternoon that Fugi- tive had been set to play be- fore infernal temps intervened, Metallica gave the band a boost. In a post shared with 6.1 million X followers, Metallica en- couraged fans to check out “the awesome guys from Fugitive” at South Side Ballroom that Saturday. Drummer Mullins, who wields sticks for Fugitive and DFW death metal corps Creep- ing Death, highlighted the moment on X. “Metallica said my band are some awesome guys,” he wrote, along with a grinning emoji. Elijah Smith Death Metal from Dallas — Frozen Soul In late September, guitarist Trey Pember- ton meets me for lunch at Cool Beans, the Denton dive bar once frequented by many in the local scene. Beans was also where Pem- berton and company first decided to start a band called “Creeping Death,” a nod to a Metallica song. It’s still way too hot outside, so Pemberton and I pull up to a tall table in the bar’s back room. Creeping Death’s schedule is consistently full. Earlier this year, the band toured over- seas with Goatwhore and Revocation. It also played extensively in the U.S. this summer to mark the release of second album Boundless Domain, which charted on Billboard. Pemberton explains that over the past 15 years or so, the scene in North Texas has generated regular output. One band will blow up, then another comes in to close the gap before getting big them- selves. Creeping Death strategically filled a void when members saw an opening for a heavier type of metal. Quality music be- gets quality music. “I think the foundation that was laid real early on was such a good foundation, that it just kind of keeps going,” Pember- ton says, describing a sort of perpetual motion machine. “People are also willing to help other people out around here as far as the music goes,” he adds. “Somebody’s always putting on for someone, always trying to help the homies along.” Many of the musicians with whom I spoke, including Pemberton, mentioned a spike in show attendance in recent days. Be- fore the pandemic, he’d noticed that the me- dian age at shows was creeping up. But now, loads of de-quarantined kids are pouring into venues after spending COVID-19 itch- ing for concerts to return. Heavy Lifting from p15 “But it’s all kind of derived from that metallic sound that blends that unique crossover of hardcore-punk and metal, and you can take it in multiple different directions.” - Guitarist Nick Stewart
