MegaZilla, a bass and drum duo from Colombia, Missouri wears their version of gross heaviness with a unique grace many bands can't attain. Comprised of Joey Hook and Corey Cottrell, who played together in rock outfit Grand Canyon back in ol' MO, the two united over their experience in "heavy, brooding bands," explains bassist Cottrell. Influenced by bands like EnemyMine, Harvey Milk, The Melvins, and High on Fire, MegaZilla is dynamic, and rich with sonic landscapes just waiting to be battered with their jarring, alluvial tone.
EnemyMine's Mike Kunka played an 8-string bass that Cottrell says "didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard in my life," and more like "this very bizarre guitar." Returning home one night after tending bar equipped with a fresh tax return and access to the all-knowing inter-web, he perused Ebay and found himself an 8-string bass. Though his immediate reaction in the morning was regret because it was hideous and he hadn't established an understanding with it, he conceded and kept it. A tip from a friend who'd attended music school suggested that he tune it a specific way, and once he did, "it sounded awesome," he says, excited. "Really heavy and droney."
The applications of their influences are quite unique, and you can sense The Melvins and the Jesus Lizard reside heavily in vocal structure. Though on the first listen Cottrell wasn't prepared for Harvey Milk's Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men, taking it out again was crucial to his music. "It's soul-crushing and heavy and just so fuckin' heartfelt and heart wrenching. There's an anguish that comes through in that album that I'd never really felt before." Merging highpoints of their slew of influences lends them to some mathy-formats when MegaZilla deviates from traditional structure.
Partnered with an obsession with tube amplifiers he'd made a habit of collecting, Cottrell decided to set up as many as he could carry. Designating "one sound to all bass, and one to sound like all guitar," he created this panorama of assaulting weight. An opportunity to play live preceded comfort with the final set or even having a name, and in three days Cottrell and Hook whittled it down and searched for an appropriate moniker. "I wanted something that sounded really huge and epic and stupid," Cottrell admits. Extracting from silly terms thrown around at home, "mega" and "zilla" could mean anything from ill feelings to super acceptance, thus the marriage of "MegaZilla." After posting their first show on a local music forum in Columbia, the reactions were strong and not in favor of the name, as one post said that it was "the stupidest name I've ever heard in my life." So, tickled, Cottrell decided to keep it on account of its instant reactions.
"When I started the band, I was a little bit more miserable than I am now," says Cottrell. As many would agree, misery incites a kind of creativity that many can relate to, if only to realize that we aren't alone. "Everybody's got their pains or open wounds." It's true that many, if not all art forms, in one vein, function as a means of catharsis, and the way in which its creators apply that makes all the difference. "I never write about anything that's outside of my own head," he explains. It's true that we write what we know, and that we all need an outlet; whether or not we indulge that is always quite another matter. "The 8-string bass, especially tuned the way it is, lends itself to really heavy, brooding feelings naturally," says Cottrell. "It just sounds angry."
For MegaZilla, the lyrics are important, but not in the traditional structure of pop or even rock songs. The more impressive application, however, is their ability to convey a song's motif with sparse lyrics that only descend when it's the most pressing. Observing their relationship with time and the song's evolution is a necessary, cultivated skill. "Any time you can get your emotions out and be well received by people is pretty amazing. If you can sing it and deliver it in a certain way, and you have this sound behind you, it's a very different, visceral experience."
The first time I saw MegaZilla, I was not only ill-prepared for my ears to be usurped by their stunning loudness, but I apparently hadn't discussed with my internal organs that they'd be just as much a part of the experience. The abomination in my guts almost felt like they were rearranging themselves, perhaps to find shelter behind one another from MegaZilla's huge, at-times terrifying din.
The most honest and accurate description Cottrell could muster was that MegaZilla is "loud and heavy and angry." In the name of dark humor to which only some of us can relate, he holds the band to "get enough amplifiers to stop somebody's heart with one note." Part facetious and part endeavor, MegaZilla treads very closely to that description. Live, they come close enough. It took some close convincing for my innards to stop hiding and realign, but all's well now.
