Ira Black

APOCÆLYPSE bandleader Ira Black has risen from the ashes to use his voice like never before. A metal veteran with a prolific resume, Black has been playing guitar in bands since the Eighties, and has clocked time onstage and in the studio with outfits including Vio-Lence, Lizzy Borden, Metal Church, Dokken and many, many more. What sets APOCÆLYPSE apart from the rest of those projects is that it’s the first time Black’s doubled down as both a serious riff-slinger and a frontman. And it turns out he’s got a lot to say. Released this past June, debut single “INTELL-I-GENTS” fuses brawny modern metal, bee-buzzed shreddery and industrial-stomped rhythms with tech-questioning lyricism over the “binary priests” glueing us to our smartphones each day. Follow-up masher “Black Box” plays out as an air-disaster metaphor for the heavy feelings he’d kept inside himself for years, and how he was struggling in silence throughout. After playing supporting roles in several acts for decades, Black now feels reborn with APOCÆLYPSE. He’s stepping to the front of the stage, and he’s ready to shout his feelings out loud. “I’ve spent most of my life playing guitar for other people’s visions,” he says. “I’ve been fortunate enough to play with some incredible bands and musicians, travel the world, make records and stand on stages I dreamed about when I was a kid. I don’t regret any of it. Every one of those experiences became part of who I am. But eventually you reach a point where you have to ask yourself, ‘What do I actually have to say?’ APOCÆLYPSE is the answer to that question.” He goes on to note that the band’s tellingly-dubbed debut album, FÆNIX, reflects upon “destruction, transformation, death, rebirth.” It hints at periods of addiction, a hard-road traveled through metal, and navigating identity. He’s doing so alongside his guitar-playing son, Ira Black IV, as well as former Fiver Finger Death Punch bassist Matt Snell and drummer Lonny Pasillas. While APOCÆLYPSE’s name in part suggests the end of all things, the wide release of FÆNIX today (August 28th) stands as a vital, hard-earned reset point for Black. He’s looking on the brighter side of things, and the triumphs to come. “I’ve already had plenty of apocalypses in my life. At this point I’m much more interested in what rises from the ashes,” he confirms. “That’s what FÆNIX means to me.” Your band name refers to the ruinous end of things, while your album title, FÆNIX, points to a glorious rebirth. Feels ripe to pluck into the psychology of that: how does this project best signify the end of a certain period of your life and the start of another?Ira Black APOCÆLYPSE is absolutely about an ending and a beginning for me. The apocalypse isn’t necessarily the end of the world. It’s also a battle and for me, it’s the battle within. Sometimes it leads to the end of your old world. The destruction of an identity, a relationship, a belief system, an addiction, a career path — whatever you’ve been holding onto because it’s familiar. FÆNIX is what happens afterward. You burn the old version of yourself to the ground and find out what survives. For the first time I’m the singer, guitarist, songwriter, producer and the person ultimately responsible for the vision. That’s terrifying, but it’s also incredibly liberating. At this point in my life I’m not interested in playing it safe. If everything burns down tomorrow, I want to know I finally made the record that was completely mine. Things are looking good so far! The “INTELL-I-GENTS” video has already crossed more than a million views since popping up a couple of months ago. How does that feel, to have your first single hit that hard straight out the gate?It’s fucking incredible! You can spend years making something in a room and convince yourself it’s great, but eventually you have to open the door and let the world decide. “INTELL-I-GENTS” was literally the first introduction to APOCÆLYPSE. Nobody really knew what this band was yet. They didn’t know me as a singer. There wasn’t a catalog or years of history behind it. So, watching it cross a million views was a huge validation that people were connecting with what we’re doing. But I’m also careful about numbers. A million views looks great on a screen, but I’m interested in what happens after somebody watches it. Did the song get stuck in their head? Did they look up another song? Did they tell somebody about the band? Did it actually make them feel something? That’s how you build something that lasts. My team and I are excited that we had a viral moment but we’re also trying to build a timeless band. “INTELL-I-GENTS” seems pretty concerned with the way big tech has taken over our lives via digital footprints, A.I. evolution and more. The video has you becoming one with tech through some kind of shady terms agreement. Yet this vid has trafficked like crazy through YouTube, and people are flipping through their phones to find you on streamers and socials. How do you reflect on that contrast?That’s exactly the irony of the song! We’re using the machine to warn you about the machine. I’m not anti-technology and I’m definitely not anti-A.I. I use technology constantly. I think we’re living through one of the most fascinating periods in human history. What concerns me is how casually we surrender ourselves to it. Nobody reads the terms and conditions. We click “accept.” Our location. Our photographs. Our conversations. Our purchasing habits. Our faces. Our voices. Our interests. Our fears…We’re slowly constructing incredibly detailed digital versions of ourselves, and most people don’t really know where that information ultimately goes or what it may eventually become capable of doing. In the video I essentially make the ultimate mistake: I accept the agreement and become part of the technology (as we all do). And then we upload that warning to YouTube and promote it through social media. That’s not a contradiction we accidentally overlooked, that’s the point! Will it take over the world? And if it does, will there be less violence? That’s one major thing I’m curious about! The “Black Box” video starts off with the band being shot out of the sky, and then you’re performing the song in the desert, surrounded by the wreckage of your plane. Have you ever had a close call/accident on tour, whether in the air or on the road? What were you feeling at that moment?I’ve had enough close calls touring that sometimes I wonder how I’m still here. Touring looks glamorous from the outside, but you’re constantly moving. Vans, buses, airplanes, ferries, trains — often exhausted, sometimes driving through horrible weather and occasionally depending on somebody you’ve barely met to get you hundreds of miles overnight. We’ve had accidents and situations where afterward you realize, “That could’ve gone very differently.” And in those moments everything becomes incredibly simple. I’m thinking about the people I love: my wife, my kids, my cats…my family. That’s one reason the wreckage imagery in “Black Box” works so well for me. The plane has crashed. Everything is destroyed around us, and we’re still standing there playing. That’s basically my life! The song, more generally, is about people keeping their feelings bottled up inside the veritable black box. Was that how you grew up? How did you find yourself opening up?I learned very young how to survive by putting things in boxes. Pain goes in one box. Anger goes in another. Fear goes somewhere nobody can see it. Then I closed the lid, picked up my guitar and kept moving. That works…until it doesn’t. Eventually those boxes start opening whether you want them to or not. Music became the place where I could say things I couldn’t necessarily say in normal conversation. Guitar did that for me for decades. Now singing has taken it even further because there’s nowhere to hide. When you’re singing your own words, people aren’t interpreting what you meant through six strings anymore. It’s my voice now, my story. That’s been incredibly vulnerable for me, but also incredibly freeing. “Black Box” is really about opening the fucking thing before it destroys me from the inside. I’ve done a lot of meditation over the years, which has helped a lot, but I needed this cathartic process not only to help understand, but finalize and put these feelings to rest… I also wanted people to understand where I’ve come from and survived and maybe they could benefit from my story as well.There’s a curious line in there: “Different bands, same old fight.” Considering your journeyman history playing with a bunch of different acts — from full-time gigs to fill-in spots — what was the battle you kept coming across?Ego. Fear. Control. Insecurity. Change the logo on the backdrop and human beings are still human beings. I’ve played in a lot of bands, and eventually you realize the arguments are rarely actually about the thing everybody is arguing about. It’s not really about the setlist. It’s not really about the guitar part. It’s not really about who gets what hotel room. Usually underneath it is somebody feeling disrespected, unheard, threatened, unappreciated or afraid of losing control. And I’ve certainly been there for all of those things myself. That’s part of what “Different bands, same old fight” means. Eventually you realize the common denominator in every room you’ve ever walked into is you. That realization can either destroy your ego or help you grow. Hopefully I’ve done a little of both. APOCÆLYPSE is my chance to create the perfect band culture and hopefully get it right! This is your first band where you’re the frontman. How has that changed the experience for you? Did you have to grow into the role?Completely. I’ve spent my entire career standing next to the singer. Now suddenly everybody turns around and goes, “OK Ira, what are we doing?” There’s nowhere to hide. Being a lead guitarist is expressive, but there’s still a certain protection in the role. You can disappear into the guitar. A frontman can’t disappear. You have to communicate. You have to lead the audience. You have to own the silence between songs as much as the songs themselves… Vocally, I had to develop the confidence to stop asking myself whether I was “allowed” to be a singer. At some point I just said, fuck it — this is my voice. I’m not trying to sound like anybody else…I’m just singing from the heart and as long as I am conveying that I’m good with it. And once I accepted that, everything changed for the better. What’s it like playing music with your son?It’s one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced. There are moments onstage when I look over and realize that’s my son standing there playing guitar with me, and it’s surreal. I’ve dreamt of having a band with him, as he’s my best friend. I had joint custody of him since he was young so he was always my little buddy going to shows with me. He even came on tour with me for a few months when he was six — I was in Metal Church, and we were touring with W.A.S.P., L.A. Guns and Stephen Pearcy. Crazy memories for sure! I think that sort of prepared him for touring as well. He’s done a bunch of touring including Europe and he’s even filled in recently on guitar for Possessed at a festival in Mexico. He’s an amazing guitarist and a great person. We’ve gone from father and son to bandmates, and bandmates have to earn each other’s respect. I don’t want him standing there because his last name is Black. I want him standing there because he belongs there. And he does. I’m incredibly proud of him. What do you remember about his earliest moments on guitar, and your ambitions for him at the time?He technically really started at School of Rock, my wife Jessica was managing S.O.R. and while I was on tour, our three kids started attending and learning how to play guitar, drums and vocals. When I got home, the boys had a recital and they played some Led Zeppelin together. I was blown away and excited because they went from listening to hip-hop to all of a sudden getting interested in the music that I listening to! After that, I remember watching him figure things out unbelievably quickly. I would occasionally show him things and then he would also start to show me things. Then he got interested in classical guitar so I got him private lessons with his high school music teacher Jim Jeffrey. He’s a great guy and a phenomenal teacher and mentor. I never wanted to manufacture a miniature version of myself, so I encouraged doing things different. That’s a trap musicians can fall into with their kids: “You’re going to play guitar because Dad plays guitar.” No…I wanted him to discover whether he loved it, because this life requires obsession. Nobody should choose this career because their father told them to. Once I saw that he had the hunger himself, then I could help out. My ambition wasn’t for him to become me, it was for him to become better than me. Also, check out my two step sons, Nicky (vocals) and Austin (drums). Their band is Violent Offender, a badass hardcore band! Was there a specific moment where you realized, ‘Damn, this kid shreds harder than me?There have definitely been moments where I’ve gone, “You little fucker!” He’ll play something and I’ll look and think, “Where the hell did that come from?” If your kid can’t eventually kick your ass at something you do, you didn’t finish your job. There’s an upcoming song, “The American Way,” where you’re singing of a small-town kid with big dreams. They’re trying to make it in the “circus,” but they’re facing struggles along the way. Since you’ve been on this path for a while, how did making the APOCÆLYPSE record actualize the dream in a way your other music world experiences hadn’t?“The American Way” is probably one of the most autobiographical songs on the record. I was that kid. I started playing guitar at ten years old. I left home incredibly young, age 14, with this completely unreasonable belief that somehow I was going to make a life out of music. And I’d spent a summer traveling with the circus as a worker when I was 14 as well. I’ve had incredible opportunities. I’ve also been broke, disappointed, betrayed, fired, hired, celebrated and ignored. I’ve been knocked down and gotten back up more times than I can count. But APOCÆLYPSE represents something different. This time I’m not auditioning for somebody else’s dream. I’m building mine. That’s a massive distinction. The American Dream isn’t necessarily becoming rich or famous. To me it’s about having the freedom to chase something everybody else thinks is impossible. Sometimes you win. Sometimes the circus eats you alive. But I’m still here. I’m still chasing the dream. It’s about the journey after all, isn’t it? You’ve introduced a few ominous characters in your music videos, like the polygonal, fire-spewing avatar you become in the “Black Box” video and the industrial gear girl seen in “INTELL-I-GENTS” video. Will either end up playing a bigger part in the world-building of APOCÆLYPSE, or are they one-offs?Nothing is accidental. We’re building a universe with APOCÆLYPSE. I don’t want to explain every connection yet because discovering it is part of the fun, but APOCÆLYPSE was never intended to be four guys standing in a warehouse playing songs in front of flashing lights. There are characters, symbols, technologies, artifacts and recurring ideas. You’re already seeing pieces of it. Some things that look completely unrelated right now will make much more sense later. I always use The Matrix as an example. The first time you see it, you’re watching a cool science-fiction movie. Then the deeper you go, the more you realize there’s an entire mythology underneath it. That’s what interests me.The songs have to stand completely on their own, always, but if somebody wants to go down the rabbit hole with us, the rabbit hole goes pretty fucking deep!