Before they became allergic to going in the studio, System Of A Down were one of the most successful – and instantly recognisable – bands of the 2000s. In 2005 they released two albums, Mesmerize and Hypnotize. Metal Hammer flew to California to hear an exclusive playback of the latter, and speak to the band about the unique and often combustible dynamic that produced it.
“It’s good to see a journalist with a beer,” cackles Daron Malakian, shortly after taking another hit from his bong. “There’s not nearly enough intoxication in this business. That’s why all the band photographs look the same. Sometimes, I feel like handing the photographer a tab of acid.”
System Of A Down’s diminutive, glassy-eyed guitarist is on a sofa in the band’s dressing room at Oakland’s Coliseum Stadium. This area is nothing overly flash, but would easily be large enough to accommodate, say, several children riding tricycles. Former Metallica bassist Jason Newsted walks towards us across this great expanse of carpet, hand outstretched to greet a pleasantly surprised Daron. For a minute, the pair enthusiastically banter about each other’s projects, before Newsted graciously retreats, allowing us to interview the starry-headed six-stringer. “It’s cool that Jason’s here,” says Daron. “It makes me nervous, too.”
Tonight, System will play one of their last dates in support of Mezmerize, their fine album which emerged in May 2005 and had Sony accountants turning cartwheels with delight. After these shows, the Mezmerize tour will be dead… long live the Hypnotize tour.
System’s second album of 2005 was premiered this afternoon at the Coliseum for a clutch of journos, in one of the stadium’s locker rooms. Hammer’s first impression of the record is very positive indeed: top songs like the opening Attack, Stealing Society and Tentative mark this out as a harder, more metallic offering than its twin. Generally speaking – and again on first listen – it’s also less obviously chorus driven than Mezmerize.
Daron’s having none of this. “It wouldn’t make sense for me to agree with that,” he says in his amiably firm way, “because the songs were written at the same time, with the same feel or vibe in the air. I didn’t separate the songs based on ‘hooky’ or ‘non-hooky’. Whatever you hear there is coincidence.”
Serj Tankian, System’s vocalist and walking oasis of calm, is ill but still wants to do the interview. The man has painful sores in his mouth, coupled with a bad cold, yet his people have set him up with a laptop and a monitor. The idea is this: we ask the question, then he types the answer on the screen and we get the print-out afterwards. Heroic!
“If it’s short, I’ll speak,” he says, his tone soft and serene despite his discomfort, which has been slightly eased by soup and tea. Then he ends up speaking throughout 99 per cent of our chat, a hand often hovering near his mouth, like a face guard or a psychosomatic comforter.
One track on Hypnotize, Holy Mountains, takes as its subject the genocide which Turkey inflicted on Armenia between 1913 and 1924. System are on a mission to make Turkey acknowledge the massacre. A few weeks back, the band led a rally to convince US House Speaker Donald Hastert “to do the right thing,” as Serj puts it, and hold a vote on legislation recognising the genocide.
“The Armenian genocide may be political to the rest of the world, but to us it’s personal,” says the singer. “We all have grandparents that have lived through the atrocity. It’s our family tree, or the lack of it, that motivates us to talk about it.”
Everyone in System other than the Hollywood-born Daron came to America when they were kids. Serj’s family came over from Beirut. As he dryly notes, “There was a Lebanese civil war going on, which made it really not very fun to be there. I’m sure my parents were motivated by the economic opportunities and a more comfortable living environment for their kids.
“I’ve spent most of my life in the US. I’m 38 and I was eight when I left Lebanon, so it’s been a huge part of my life. I am an American, I am an Armenian and I’m also a soul on this planet who doesn’t want to identify with any borders or flags.”
Serj often comes out with some kind of metaphysical statement about the universe. As he claims not to identify with any organised religion, you can chalk it up to a generally ‘cosmic’ outlook. A blatantly warm human being, Serj is the System member you’d go to if you needed advice on life, or to soak up some serenity. Daron, on the other hand, is the man you’d call if you wanted to float off on a wave of good, but ultimately forgotten conversation, while giggling loudly at seemingly random intervals.
We don’t meet drummer John Dolmayan today, but do enjoy banter with bassist Shavo Odadjian. Immediately likeable, Shavo is the one you’d want to prop up a bar with and talk about Real Stuff™. Exuding a strong work ethic, which runs deep in his family, Shavo managed System for the first two years, in the mid 90s. All this time later, he still finds the responsibility difficult to shake and insists that System don’t let outsiders do much for them.
“Oh no, we can’t let that happen,” he says, shaking his shaven head. “I won’t even let anyone else direct our videos any more. It’d be like somebody else writing our songs! If you’re good at something, you should be allowed to do it freely. Too many cooks in the kitchen makes a meal too salty.”
Someone brings Shavo a plastic cup of Johnny Walker Black Label whisky and ice. He doesn’t normally drink before a show, but tonight he’s edgy. “I kinda feel dizzy, from all the people around me,” he says. “I have friends and family who travelled here, some of the guys from Metallica are here, as well as Jason Newsted… it’s a little overwhelming. So I just showered, shaved and got myself in order. And now I feel like a drink. Once I get onstage drunk, I won’t stop drinking, either.”
After the first decade of existence, many band members retreat into their own little bubbles and grow apart. You don’t sense that with this band. Daron and Shavo, in particular, have a naturally tight bond due to both losing their grandmothers during their teens: women who were like mothers to them. Impressively, the band members’ families are all friends – some are even involved with the band’s day-to-day business – and barbecue get-togethers often unite all four of the System families.
Which is not to say that this is a band that agree on everything. Take, for instance, Serj and Daron’s opposing views on life after death. “It’s reported that death encompasses the most beautiful harmonies ever heard,” says Serj, referring to people who have had near-death experiences. “The greenest and brightest of worlds. Which makes it sound nice.”
“How did you feel before you were born?” counters Daron, rhetorically. “Exactly – you didn’t feel anything. How did you feel last night when you were sleeping? That’s how I think you’re gonna feel when you die. I’m sure Serj gave you a completely different answer.”
All three interviewed members freely concede that arguments have rocked System’s boat. ”Erm… there’s been some military moments,” Serj beams. “A few commando incursions, here and there.”
“It’s disturbing,” admits Daron, after another bong-huff. “There are moments of tension and people getting on each other’s nerves. But things that might have broken up other bands haven’t broken us, just because of that closeness.”
”There’s been times,” adds Shavo, “when I’ve directed a video and they haven’t liked it. One band member will say they love it, then another says it’s shit, straight to my face! But I appreciate the honesty. And we’ve used it anyway!”
We’re curious to see how far System subscribe to conspiracy theories. Did the US government carry out the September 11 atrocity itself, to frighten and coerce the populace? Serj’s reply is admirably even-handed.
“It’s not a question I could answer,” he shrugs benignly. “There are a lot of theories, but I like sticking to the facts. What’s interesting about the September 11 scenario is not the role that the American government played, but who they targeted afterwards. Most of the 9/11 terrorists were from Saudi Arabia, a country which is a US ally and was not targeted in any way. Whatever happens in the world, you have to trace the money line afterwards. It’s like investigating a murder.”
Do System get targeted by so-called ‘racial profiling’ when they go through airport security? “We call it ‘facial hair profiling’,” smiles Serj. “Sometimes they’re like, ‘Oh, System Of A Down!’ and they won’t check us, then sometimes they will. Generally, we’ve had pretty good experiences going across borders.”
Given that the band continually make the world’s negative aspects their business, they appear to stave off depression by flinging seemingly ludicrous, abstract songs into their heady socio-political brew. It’s something which distinguishes them from a more dogmatic band like Rage Against The Machine, who weren’t noted for throwing random words like ‘banana’ and ‘terracotta’ into songs, as System have on their ‘Hypnotize’ with the bamboozling, dazzling ‘Vicinity Of Obscenity’. A song only System could have penned.
Serj’s eyes twinkle madly at the mention of this tune. “I have a terrible sense of humour: it’s more British than American. I like things that don’t make sense and bizarre connections: putting two different things that don’t have a previous relationship next to each other.”
So these silly System tunes are a necessary steam valve for listener and band?
”Sure. If you can’t laugh at yourself and everything that you do in your life, you’re missing the whole point. No matter how serious the topic.”
“Songs like that are a way to even it all out,” offers Daron. ”A song like Lonely Days is just about a sad day I had alone at home, whereas something like Vicinity Of Obscenity is just, like, ‘I don’t give a fuck’. But don’t we all have days when we watch TV and get really concerned about what’s happening in the world, but also days where you’re just drunk off your ass? For System Of A Down to be real, it has to be made up of the same things that make up a person.”
Later, during System’s triumphant show, one brilliantly left-field song after another will be hammered out – Serj sounding great despite his ailing health, Shavo perhaps even more sprightly than usual, thanks to his booze injection – before an adoring, relatively mainstream-looking crowd. The whole spectacle will renew our faith in America’s taste. Maybe, once in a while, the masses really can be trusted to latch onto interesting, different music.
While Metallica have presumably lost little sleep over making millions of dollars, you wonder how easily being rich rests on System’s shoulders, right next to the weight of the world. Serj has clearly thought it through, more than once.
“It’s one of those things where you don’t wanna be a hypocrite and preach about class distinctions while making a lot of money,” he acknowledges. “But I realise I have control over some aspects and no control over others. People in our entertainment industry are generally very well paid, but it depends. If you interviewed me while I was running my software company, paying for the rehearsal studio and getting beers from the 7-11… well, you wouldn’t be asking me that question.”
Obviously not. But do you feel any guilt at flying around on a private jet?
“I think we make the best jokes of ourselves, within this band,” he says. “That’s what is really cool about it. We take the piss out of ourselves, in private.”
Daron is more defensive. “We do a lot more than most bands, charity-wise and politically speaking. You’re not gonna be able to help everybody in the world, man: you’ve got to enjoy life too. Also, if you think money’s ever going to make you happy, then you don’t know life in general. Now that I have money, it doesn’t make me sad, but happiness doesn’t come from money, cars, girls, houses… it comes in writing songs. If I loved money so much, I wouldn’t write these songs: I’d probably be a rapper!”
Surely cars and girls are tremendous fun, though?
“They’re a part of your life, but anything that is constant tends to become normal. I’ve had a zillion girls, man, and any car that I want. We’ve been doing this a while – it’s not like we just came out yesterday. That stuff doesn’t impress me so much now.”
When was the last day you didn’t smoke weed?
”It’s been years.”
What would happen if you stopped?
”I’d be edgy for a while. It’d fuck with my appetite for a bit.”
Ever plan to stop?
”I don’t make that kind of long-term plan. I might, though, if a doctor tells me I’m gonna die.”
If you mentally lost the plot, do you think anyone would tell you?
He thinks about this for a few seconds and looks vaguely uncertain. We almost feel bad for asking. ”Uh… I don’t know. I’m not sure. It’s never actually happened yet.”
Hopefully it won’t…
“Hopefully it will!” he grins, eyes manic. “Being crazy is being free, man. Completely free! HAHAHAHA!”
Good God. Start the car…
Originally published in Metal Hammer issue 147
