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www.thedeadlines.com
Musicforce.com's
slogan is, "If Heaven had a record store..."
According to
Tooth & Nail's Bill Power, the label signs bands that
are "primarily" Christian. In the past, it has claimed to
be the Northwest's largest independent label. It runs subsidiary
imprints specializing in techno and hardcore music.
Once the Deadlines hit their stride, riding a surf organ
and packing a garage-rock wallop, they sound like the aural
incarnation of a stomping swamp thing from a grade-Z horror
flick. This band shoots its promo photos in fog-shrouded
Beaverton graveyards, staring at the camera with dead eyes,
looking like Cure fans from 1984. When they play, they spit
fake blood. They use noms de rock like Shaun Coffin
and The Creature.
And somewhere in there--beneath the gore, the dollar-bin
suits and black eyeliner--beat the hearts of devout Christians.
Just-turned-twentysomethings, the Deadlines play both the
rock circuit and the church circuit. Their recent tour in
support of their debut album, The Death and Life of...
on Seattle's Tooth & Nail records, took the six-member
band as far as Abbeville, La., where they played at the
Abbeville Assembly of God. They've played the South Hill
Christian Church in Puyallup, Wash., and the First Christian
Church of Griffith, Ind. They dream of playing at Satyricon
or the Roseland.
"All the guys in the band are Christian, but our music
is for everyone, and all markets," says drummer Jerry Attrick,
sweaty and spattered with fake blood after a June 13 show
at the First Evangelical Church in Eugene. With his black
hair and thick, black-rimmed specs, Attrick looks a little
like Fireballs of Freedom drummer Sammy James.
Gone are the days when wholesome types like Amy Grant could
devour the God-music market. The kids, man! The Christian
kids want to rock! Tooth & Nail, a discreetly religious
label that launched indie-scene darlings Pedro the Lion
and supports a large roster of punk and alt-rock bands,
has built that desire into a full-fledged scene. Their deal
with the label puts the Deadlines in prime position to join
this booming alternate-reality underground.
On The Death & Life Of..., guitars chug and
a Farfisa organ churns through 13 little numbers, leaving
few clues about the band's piety. Song titles include "Death
& Life in Rock 'n' Roll," "Vampires in Love" and "Murder
Creek Road." The lyrics speak of blood, murder, UFOs--that
sort of thing. But references to God and his Only Begotten
clock in at a slim 16 (17, if you count one uppercase male
pronoun), and most of those get racked up in the last song,
"Dead Indeed." Other than a meager thanks to "God, family,
friends, fans and rock & roll," there ain't much telling
for Christianity.
Still, the Deadlines are deadly serious about their paired
faiths in God and rock and roll. Attrick and Shaun Coffin
(in real life, Shaun Sundholm), both sons of pastors, formed
the band two years ago. A penchant for costumes and a passage
from scripture led to their horror-rock conversion.
"We base the whole 'dead' thing off of Romans 6:10-11,"
Attrick says.
"It's our justification," Shaun says, under his breath.
The Bible passage they refer to reads: The death He
died, He died to sin, once for all; but the life He lives,
He lives to God. In the same way, count yourselves dead
to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus.
"Being 'dead to sin' basically means to control your fleshly-driven
words and desires," Coffin says.
Still, they believe the Christian youth of today have the
freedom to rock. The theological whammo of the New Testament,
they say, frees modern Christians from the more judgmental
rigors of the Old Testament.
Not all of their fellow faithful agree.
"Some Christians don't understand the horror thing," Attrick
says. "About four months back, we played four shows in Idaho,
and at two out of the four shows people got mad. We argued
with a minister for, like, 45 minutes out in the parking
lot."
He adds that their on-stage antics caused them to be banned
in Bend and raised more than a few eyebrows down south.
"People think what we do is wrong," Attrick says. "But
it's not. People get hung up on how you reach people rather
than on reaching them at all."
"People think Christians are judgmental," guitarist Sammy
Lugosi says.
"Most Christians are stupid," Coffin mutters. Everyone
laughs.
"Being Christian isn't a religion to us, it's a relationship
with God," Attrick adds.
The Deadlines cite naughty bands like the Cramps, the Black
Halos, the Misfits and even Guns 'n' Roses as influences.
The band claims a bond with the Black Halos and plans a
show with the Murder City Devils. In addition to the church
circuit and Christian-ish clubs like Portland's defunct
Spin Cycle, they've played at what they call "general market"
clubs.
"None of us are easily offended," Attrick says.
A healthy vein of contradiction seems to run through the
lives of religious punk youth. Out front of the Evangelical
Church, the kids crack heads like at any all-ages show.
They smoke in the front, dress how they want and don't sermonize.
In the basement, dubbed "the Garage," a mosh pit forms and
nobody mentions churchly things. On stage, Shaun Coffin
fights for control of the mic like any punk singer.
Cory Plumb of Eugene organizes shows at the Garage two
or three times a month. He says he does it "to give people
a reason to live other than drugs and alcohol." He and the
church also organize support groups for punk and homeless
youth on Wednesdays.
Plumb, the kids at the Eugene show, the Deadlines and their
fellow Tooth & Nail bands are all part of a faith-powered
music scene that has plenty of commercial muscle. Slick
websites like Musicforce.com sell Christian music that fits
every conceivable niche. While Pedro the Lion, for one,
has made the leap to widespread acclaim in the indie scene,
commercial hard rockers P.O.D. have parlayed ample MTV play
into a tour with Korn and, oddly enough, Ozzy Osbourne.
For the Deadlines, this Christian circuit is a mixed blessing.
Touring with like-minded bands like Squad Five-O and Tenderfoot,
they've had shows lined up for two months straight. They'd
rather not be pegged a "Christian" band, but their faith--and
place on T&N--opens markets. Musicforce, which doesn't
carry the Black Halos or the Cramps, dishes out the similar-sounding
Deadlines. At Tooth & Nail, operations manager and A
& R guy Bill Power says The Life and Times of...
has shipped about 4,000 copies and sold 800, a more-than-respectable
score for a punk band just starting out.
The Deadlines fervently maintain that they're in it for
the fun of music. In the spirit of rock, they throw down
a challenge to Christian music fans, exposing the God-fearing
crowd to some unpretty sights.
But their long drives from church to church aren't making
them rich, since such gigs usually don't pay. They say they
average about $100 a night in merchandise sales. Lugosi,
Attrick and Coffin say they much prefer playing regular
clubs.
"Most of the time, the church group kids are supportive,"
Coffin says. "But the youth pastors sometimes have a problem
with it. That's 10 percent of the time. They don't want
to offend church members, so they ask us to tone down the
band."
He says the worst reception so far was in Louisiana.
"Some kid was telling the pastor that we bite the heads
off rats," he says. "The guy just asked us beforehand, 'Now,
you guys don't bite the heads off rats, do you?' And we
said no.
"Maybe we'll start," he adds.
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