Mars Volta

Prima volta

‘It could’ve been simple for Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez. Their fan base was loyal and, like any seminal band of the past decade, it reached its peak only after the breakup of At the Drive-In.

Oh, things could certainly have been easy. Bixler and Rodriguez knew the formula for success and it worked to a tee with their previous band. These El Paso boys had no intention of keeping things easy, though. Their music, like the story of their lives was, was destined to remain in constant struggle and hardship to remain real.

When The Mars Volta formed, they didn’t just take a step or two away from the At the Drive-In sound. They were too ambitious or stubborn to do so. They dug deep into their roots and what they pulled out was leaps and bounds away from where they started.

This approach to a new band may sound tedious and self-defeating to some. Depending on how you look at it, it may even be a bit reminiscent of Dostoevsky’s “The Underground Man.” Nothing could be further from the truth for Bixler and Rodriguez though.

“Omar and I have always had an interest in writing music that sounded like this,” began vocalist Cedric Bixler-Zavala. “It’s an itch that we’ve needed to scratch for a long time. Actually, we’ve lied to the press about it for years, predicting this next big sound we would come out with but each passing (At the Drive-In) record just sounded like ‘In Casino/Out’ with better production.”

The Mars Volta makes it a point to call their new Latin-, salsa-, and funk-influenced music progressive but they hesitate to define it as prog rock. They believe all music should be progressive and move forward. That is the pivotal point upon which this band is built and it appears that the fans seem to be rather accepting of the influx of euphonious metamorphoses.

“It’s been about three or four years already (since At the Drive-In broke up) and people seem to understand that it’s a different band,” continued Bixler. “We live in the savvy world of the Internet and online chat rooms. So people are usually pretty up to date with changes.”

One change that most likely made fans enthusiastic was the addition of Flea to the lineup for the band’s freshman offering, “De-Loused in the Comatorium.” According to Bixler, he “is a fan of the band and we needed someone at the last minute that could play the kind of style we wanted for the album.”

Not every change in the band has been positive, though. On May 25, band member Jeremy Ward was found dead. He was the band’s sound manipulator, a member of Defacto, and a longtime friend of ATDI. While Bixler chose not to comment on how Ward died, he mentioned that it was hard for the band to deal with the loss.

“It was sad to lose Jeremy. As stereotypical as a ‘rock band thing’ it is to say, just playing shows is what helps the most. It’s a cathartic experience for us. There’s no other way to deal with it.”

One way that they have traditionally dealt with death is to write about it. The ATDI penned song, “Embroglio,” is a dedication to Julio Venegas, a close friend of the band that committed suicide. The Mars Volta felt that this wasn’t enough of a tribute to Venegas, though. Therefore, they decided to dedicate “De-Loused” to him.

Venegas took his life while ATDI was in the studio in 1996. His loss is something that they still deal with today.

“In short, the record was a gift from us to him. He took his life six or so years ago and in the past we’ve only had small slices of cake to give him and we felt we needed to give him something bigger. So we put together a fictionalized story that utilizes bits and pieces from his life and, in our minds, he can be the only true critic of this album.”

While no reasons were stated as to why Venegas chose to abruptly end his life, it appears that El Paso, often referred to as “Hell Paso,” is a difficult place to grow up if you do not fit into their cultural archetype.

“El Paso is a really violent place to live. I moved out of there out of fear of getting beat up by everyday people. I’m glad my dad moved me out of the Bay Area when I was younger because living in El Paso cultured me but it’s different now. When you grow up, you realize there are regular rednecks and Mexican rednecks.”

El Paso, home of the closed-minded and the discriminatory. A five-minute walk from Bixler’s childhood home will take you to a town where “you can literally get away with murder.” To know that such areas exist is a scary and eye-opening revelation. The threat of forced assimilation or discrimination is a difficult prospect, but to live by a town where you fear for your own life on a regular basis must be a concept that is nearly impossible to come to terms with. Worse yet is to know that you do not have the support of your own people.

“It’s hard to be Hispanic and not feel that you’re accepted by your own people because of the way you dress, what you say, the way you speak, your sexual orientation, or anything like that. I think, if anything, that has always had an effect on the way I write lyrically. I don’t promote violence but the lyrics will always have a violent feel to it because it’s what I saw growing up.”

Ironically, while the band fights because they are different in the real world, they fight because their fans act like them in concert.

“We used to get football face-painter fans at At the Drive-In shows who would think it was cute to come to the shows with Afro wigs on. We’d spend half an hour before the shows pulling wigs off people and telling them to listen to the music. That was the downfall of bands like the Sex Pistols. People weren’t listening to the music or the message. They were just dressing like the band.”

Apparently, it’s a hard-knock life for more than just Jay-Z and Shirley Temple. Amidst years of independent and somewhat commercial success, the music still seems to be slipping through the cracks. It is the way that Bixler and Rodriguez look that causes them such strife. To top it off, their “style” is not a function of being fashionable. Their Afros grow as grooming dissipates during the grueling weeks on a tour bus. One can only assume that the rail-thin look is also a result of being overworked and underfed. Offstage, they suffer discrimination over factors they cannot control.

“People think that it’s fun on tour but it’s not. I don’t leave my hotel room. Maybe it’s karma for the way I was as a teenager but you always seem to get some smart-ass wanting to fight you because you look different.”

Keep in mind, though, the torment Irie Jones suffered in Zadie Smith’s “White Teeth” when she cut off her Afro. Although she was tortured by it and assumed that it made her a target for ridicule, she discovered just how much people thought it made her beautiful and distinct. It’s a classic Catch-22. Sometimes, Cedric, you never can win.