RIP Magazine

CORONER

Tormented By Truth

June 1990

by Steffan Chirazi

Note: The beginning of the author's introduction is missing. If anyone has the first page of this article, please email it to me!

... a group whose sentiments are safe for children and dangerous for adults. Coroner's interest in all issues mortal is expressed with a degree of musical and mental diligence the likes of which I rarely see these days. Hailing from Switzerland and formed in '85, Coroner was not, as has been reported, Celtic Frost's road crew turned musical. Just about the only thing the two share, other than friendship, are birthplace and healthy interest in H.R. Geiger, the wildly creative and bleak Swiss artist. There's a thought: Why is it that Switzerland has produced such bleak and talented artists? We are talking about the richest country in the world per capita. Answers on a postcard...

It is the latest Coroner album, No More Color, that has succeeded in gaining them the most attention. From its excellent artwork right through to its last note, No More Color is an album of frightening power with that middle shove that you either have or haven't. It isn't something you develop--you can either collapse someone's chest with music or you can't.

The most remarkable aspect of Coroner is their ability to fill so much space with pertinent, talented riffs and rhythms, yet still be only a three-piece. I suppose Motorhead did it for awhile, but it is probably Marquis Marky (drums), Tommy T. Baron (guitar) and Ron Royce's (bass/lead vox) definite Stooges/MC5 attitude dashes that give the music this property.

Phone interviews to Switzerland are strange events. Lots of hissing, polite "Whatchoo say?" and straining to understand just what the hell's being asked/answered. Marky is often the elected band spokesman, and it is he who is given the dubious honor of trying to convey just what it is that makes Coroner so convincingly and intelligently dark, over a line that probably came from "south" itself.

Marky: "It has a lot to do with feelings, the strength of certain emotions, I think. Like, for example, when you love, it can be a very good and/or a very painful experience. I suppose it is the other side, which people don't normally look at, that I write about. It's not like I'm some emotionally disturbed or depressed person or something," he laughs, "but there are times, of course, when I feel bad or find myself thinking about things like that, and I think, overall, that side fits our music better. Also, there are many bands who look at the other side, the trees and the flowers and the tall, tall grass, which is fine. But we choose the other view. To us, it is more interesting."

I wondered if that root interest in the negative was a reflection of other people's problems and miseries, or solely Marky's own.

Marky: "Really, I try to write about all of that--everyone, myself, whatever catches. Mostly it is the size of feeling in a subject that drives me to write about it, the amount of emotion or sheer matter involved."

And musically, what drives Coroner to their clinically superb, slow, agonizing pace punctuated with Goth speed riffs and runs?

Marky: "It is probably down to the fact that a lot of us like a lotta the '70s music, early stuff like Sabbath, the Stooges--and even earlier '60s stuff. The other guys listen to a lot of classical jazz stuff, but they're really strongly into Sabbath too."

This is probably as good a time as any to bring you up to date on Coroner's vinyl forays. It was in 1987 that the band first released their stunning music in the U.S. The album was titled R.I.P., and it brought waves of fused, tight, aggressive Euro-metal to a core of listeners. True, there is a similarity in approach to '84/'85-era Celtic Frost, but Coroner's few similarities are obviously the product of the "same time, same place" theory, as opposed to the plagiarist's route.

1988 saw them develop their fusion of jazz and thrashy riffs and arrangements that much further, with Punishment for Decadence coming off slower at times, but more malevolent in its impact. Much like VoiVod, Coroner display a healthy ability to grab hold of parts that don't really make too much sense as separates and turn them into superb, rolling compositions. Sitting where I do, I can afford the luxury of being a conveyor, a teacher at times, if you will--and if you won't, the more the fool are you: Get out there and buy yourself all three Coroner albums, turn out the light and soak up the dark rays--that's if you claim to be into really dark, heavy music. This band has every right to be as big as Slayer. Anyway, I suppose we should be getting back to Marky on that dubious phone line...

Coroner, as we've established, do not simply write about Old Nick or his little brother Beelzebub. They look at real, tangible situations and events, and the No More Color album, in particular, takes a lyrical slant even more in that direction. I ask Marky to explain the concept behind a couple of the song titles, like "No Need To Be Human."

Marky: "This deals with the sad fact that there are a lot of ignorant people around us that just don't care about anything that goes on around them. They just accept it, and what they see on the TV and read in the newspapers and so on. It's really a 'come on, wake up' sort of thing from my angle, a 'wake up and do something' song."

And "Read My Scars"?

Marky: "This one is about those prisons where they lock people up in solitary confinement, in this empty room all alone. They keep the prisoners there for a very long time without any contact to the outside or anyone else. They probably have little if any daylight, so they lose time concepts and all of that. I think this type of thing will make any criminal more extreme in both their reactions and impulses when they come out--certainly more extreme than when they went in."

"Tunnel of Pain"?

Marky: "Oh, really just about life in general," sighs Marky, almost drifting off the end of the phone before snapping back into explanation. "About some people who really don't have a lot of luck, like the tramps, but especially the elderly who you see wandering around homeless. These people may never have been given a chance from birth. They may not have had a choice to make in how their life was spent."

The impact of No More Color is accentuated tenfold by a brilliant piece of artwork on the sleeve: a sepia-toned photograph of a man holding his head in his hands, as if blocking everything from sight. Simple but well-executed, and seeing as it is Marky who developed the concept, it's only fair he let us in on the deal.

Marky: "The title, No More Color, is about getting away from all the distractions around you in your life and getting to know yourself that much better, getting to know the simple aspects of life in more detail. We are constantly surrounded by unimportant things, such as silly commercials and so on, which do not allow us to concentrate on things that matter. Many people just pass through life taking in these unimportant things and never getting beyond them. The cover shows someone shielding his eyes from all of that--trying to deflect all that stuff, all those things--trying to keep out the light, so he can spend some time concentrating on bigger issues."

I wondered what the three most important things to a chap like Marky were.

Marky: "Love is very important. It is very important to have love in your life and to feel love. I think tied in with that is having a good sense of yourself and what you are all about, which also leads to the last important thing, which is to try and achieve something of value and worth with your life, something unique. Who measures that standard, I think, is yourself, though. Those are personally my three most important things--it's not what I think everybody's should be."

Realize one more thing about Coroner: They aren't anybody's anything. They won't ever be trying to fit categories or assume certain well-known tones.

Marky: "Why anyone would want to sound like Metallica or Slayer is surprising to me. After all, there are already two bands doing that, and to simply set your sights at being like them seems like a worthless goal."

The phone line is starting to become a bugbear. Marky informs me that Coroner may well be playing the U.S. again as these words pass your eyes. He also informs me, much to my relief, that he had a very happy childhood and a great home background, and that his interest in darker things is not fueled by some secret personal torment. The issues and torments Coroner take on are everyone's.

Reprinted without permission from the magazine RIP, June 1990 issue.

Created and Maintained by Design Vortex