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| This interview was made in collaboration with Last Cathedral Records |
Buzzard is the one-man project of Chris T. Elliott, following its own path through the darker corners of Doom Metal, Folk and Americana. In this interview, Chris talks about the idea of Doom Folk, the importance of storytelling and lyrics, his wide range of influences, his songwriting process, and Buzzard’s participation in The Ancient Vigil, the latest Doom Metal compilation released by The Last Cathedral Records.
Asmoth: Buzzard describes its music as Doom Folk, combining the weight of Doom with the storytelling tradition of Folk. How would you personally describe the music of Buzzard to someone hearing the band for the first time?
Chris: Early on I came up with the elevator pitch “What if Bob Dylan listened to Black Sabbath and read H.P. Lovecraft?” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. That captures the essence of Buzzard.
There are three big tents. Dylan includes Americana music, narrative poetry, and satirical social commentary. Sabbath incorporates doom metal, 70s prog, and classic hard rock. Lovecraft covers horror, Weird literature, and science fiction. There’s so much artistic terrain to explore triangulating among these influences.
Asmoth: Your music brings together Doom, Folk, Americana, Blues and even elements of Bluegrass. What attracts you to these seemingly different musical traditions, and how do you make them work together naturally within Buzzard?
Chris: As a kid I got into Lovecraft and Sabbath, then in my late teen years began writing songs on acoustic guitar, which led to an interest in Dylan and narrative songwriters. So that three-legged stool–doom, folk, and weird fiction–works together naturally because I discovered and appreciated them organically, each on their own terms, long before I considered combining them. Plus, the dark satirical humor of George Carlin or Bill Hicks also runs in my veins.
I think all these genres you mention possess a strong core identity with an enduring tradition. They’re not ephemeral; they stand outside time. They allow fierce, independent points of view. Black Sabbath, Blind Willie Johnson, Johnny Cash, Trouble, Townes Van Zandt, Candlemass – all this music sounds timeless, resists trends, and communicates hard, essential truths. Death looms large but love clings to life.
If anything conscious drives me, it’s curiosity. I’m curious how, for instance, banjo and mellotron sounds together with a fuzz guitar playing a tritone riff. I’m curious how nihilistic or polemical I can make a lyric without the song collapsing under its own weight. I’m curious how a lyric could go from a grim chuckle to a clenched fist to a simple beautiful image. And I’m curious how to pull it off earnestly and without pretension. This open-minded curiosity may help me combine elements in a natural rather than contrived way. I’ll add a few words about the similarity between doom and folk, to my mind.
Doom riffs are like folk melodies. Each of them draws from a pool of related musical ideas, and then the individual artist puts their own twist on the tradition. Neither the riffmaster nor the folksinger reinvents the wheel. Each puts their own spin on a familiar motif. A doom band steals a familiar-sounding riff and tweaks it just so. Dylan borrows a traditional tune and reinvents it for a modern audience. Both doom and folk thrive on the cusp between familiarity and freshness. You’re always one step away from plagiarism. But that’s where the art lies – in putting your individual stamp on an established mode.
Blues is like that too. 99% is boring because it’s based on a handful of chord progressions and rhythmic patterns. Like folk and doom, blues falls flat in the hands of a tepid performer with nothing to say. But in the hands of a powerful creative personality, it can be deeply moving art of the highest caliber.
Even stand-up comedy works along similar lines. Simple forms are like that. There’s nowhere to hide. It’s not about technique. It’s not spectacle. It’s all you and your point of view.
Asmoth: Your songs often combine dark or heavy subjects with irony, satire and storytelling. How important are the lyrics and the narrative aspect when you compose a Buzzard song?
Chris: Most of my songs begin and end with the lyrics. Some song ideas come from a turn of phrase or a single image. I might have a general story idea or narrative conceit. I might have a polemical axe to grind. I might have a sound in my head or a mood in my mind that suggests certain words. If the words have no meaning, I might not know how to sing them, so I have to start with some intent. Otherwise, I’m like, “So what? Who cares? Why write this piece of music?”
Singing to me is just a way of saying what I mean, only with rhythm and rhyme. Setting aside hifalutin notions, I just enjoy the simple pleasure of rhyming. I love the sound of a sharp rhyme that cuts like a knife. For all the heavy subject matter, I also relish simple wordplay.
One of the central points of Buzzard is that the lyrics are intended to be heard. Unlike a lot of heavy music, where the words are buried or incidental, my goal is for the lyrics and music to work together for heightened impact. I’m fascinated by the endless possibilities of what a song can say against a backdrop of heavy music, as opposed to the relatively limited expressive possibilities of singing atop an acoustic guitar.
With a full heavy band backing, I can rant, rave, plead, joke, narrate, mock, bark, whisper, complain, condemn, interrogate, wonder, accuse… There’s so much more freedom to sing about extreme and unexpected ideas. Compared to strumming on a Martin, writing songs with fuzz guitar, mellotron, and drums allows a wider array of imagery, allusions, characters, stories, symbols, and stylized language.
Asmoth: You are based in Western Massachusetts, a region that is perhaps less associated internationally with Doom Metal than places such as California or the Pacific Northwest. How would you describe the local Doom and underground Metal scene in Massachusetts, and does being part of that environment influence your music?
Chris: The scene here is really growing. Some stellar Massachusetts doom bands include Benthic Realm, Sons of Greenwich, Oxen, and of course the legendary Black Pyramid.
I’m a member/owner of the brand-new The Heavy Culture Cooperative (THCC), a worker-, artist-, and fan-owned cooperative created to support Western Massachusetts’ underground and alternative arts scene. It operates as a music and performing-arts venue with a strong focus on subcultures such as metal, punk, hardcore, and experimental/alternative art. There’s also the RPM Fest heavy metal campout every Labor Day, which has exploded – this is the 10th year and the lineup includes High On Fire, Monolord, and Khemmis.
That said, all this is relatively recent, though exciting. You’re right, the music scene here has tended toward folk music and Americana, a scene in which I’ve found a small amount of very modest success over the years but never quite fit in. I’ve tended to move in circles where being a metalhead makes me the odd man out, to say the least. My “metal friends” have never numbered more than a handful. Even my straight-up folk stuff has invariably been described as quirky and left-field. Apparently being normal is not in my skill set. All my musical life I’ve been a bit of an anomaly.
Just between you and me and whoever’s reading this, a lot of neofolk, modern Americana, and contemporary singer-songwriters annoy me profoundly. This annoyance influences me in that I want to be the opposite of all that. I know it’s all a matter of taste, but when checking out recent folk and indie stuff I often find what I perceive as preciousness, affectation, detached irony, sanctimoniousness, and performative artsiness. I try my best not to be full of shit.
Asmoth: Your influences range from Electric Wizard and Candlemass to Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, Tom Waits and the Greenwich Village troubadours. How do you think these different influences have shaped your approach to songwriting, and which ones are perhaps the most deeply rooted in Buzzard's identity?
Chris: Among those influences, the most deeply rooted are Dylan and Sabbath. Leif Edling is my second favorite riffmaster. Green Village troubadours like Phil Ochs influence my songwriting, but to be honest very little of that music I actually enjoy listening to. It’s more that I discover particular songs and performances that inspire me, like Cash’s Bitter Tears or Live at Folsom Prison.
Chronologically, first up, the most deeply rooted is We Sold Our Soul for Rock and Roll. The vibe saturates my DNA.
Later in life, Bob Dylan tops the list because he not only teaches you about songwriting but introduces you to the full breadth and depth of American music, from blues to bluegrass to Appalachian ballads to the great American songbook, and he does so in an unadorned, idiosyncratic, easy-to-grasp manner.
One game changing song for me is Dylan’s “Masters of War,” which showed me how folk could be badass with a driving minor key groove and angry lyrics. Another is “Talking World War III Blues,” which showed how folk could have wry humor, scathing social commentary, and clever turns of phrase without being cute and smug. Before Dylan, I saw folk as tepid and corny.
Asmoth: Buzzard is essentially built around your own songwriting and recording process. How does a song usually develop from the first idea to the finished recording, and do you approach a Doom riff differently from a Folk or Americana passage?
Chris: The first album Doom Folk began with songs written on acoustic guitar and then recorded with layering and overdubs in my studio. In contrast, most of the second album Mean Bone was written on electric guitar and then arranged in the studio. Since then, I’ve increasingly built the songs in the studio, beginning with a rough sketch of the lyric, melody, and guitar parts and then building a drum track that fits the vocal delivery. In other words, I begin recording with a half-finished composition and then build the track piece by piece.
The main reason is this: when you write a song on acoustic guitar, you can perform it and hear how it works. But that’s not true with riff-centric songs. You don’t know if a heavy song works until you can demo the whole arrangement. You will have no idea if the song works, especially in terms of the words. Lyrics that sound cool over an amplified riff can sound silly over strummed cords. In fact, most heavy Buzzard songs fall flat as solo acoustic performances.
Since I can’t try out the songs with a band, I have to use my studio as the band, writing while recording and recording while writing. That’s totally different from an acoustic song, where I can perfect every word of the lyric and every note of the arrangement before recording the track.
Asmoth: You contributed to The Ancient Vigil, the Doom Metal compilation released by The Last Cathedral Records. What made you want to become part of this particular project, and how did the collaboration with the label come about?
Chris: Michael reached out to me, so I checked out the first volume Silent Remains and saw that it starts with Mirror of Deception and includes one of my favorite recent discoveries, Anchorite, so joining the label was a no-brainer. And then the second volume literally had my favorite Altar of Oblivion song. From the visual aesthetics to the music, the quality could not be higher.
Plus, the comp supports a worthy cause. I prefer when compilations support a charitable cause. Any label that puts a benefit goal up front in their mission immediately wins my heart. While artists are usually too poor to make lavish charitable donations, compilations are a great opportunity for us to put our money where our mouth is.
Asmoth: The Ancient Vigil brings together different artists from the Doom underground. What does being included in a compilation like this mean for Buzzard, and do you see these kinds of projects as an important way of creating connections between otherwise distant parts of the underground scene?
Chris: I’ve discovered incredible artists purchasing these comps. To have a track swimming among these rarified depths is a huge honor. Personally, I’m gratified to see that my humble one-man-band project can hold its own in the metal genre.
When I decided to release the first album Doom Folk, one of my fears was that I would be rejected by the metal genre which I hold in such regard. Would I be seen as a poseur pretending and failing to be heavy, or an outsider coming from folk to metal like some fake Johnny Come Lately? The truth is, I started in metal, journeyed through folk, and arrived here at doom folk. I was a Sabbath fan way before a Dylan fan. I can sing along with “Angel of Death” better than “Kumbaya,” let me tell you that.
I hope to have the opportunity to meet more bands, perform live, and find listeners who get a kick out of Buzzard. I’ve got a lot more music in the pipeline, from pretty damn heavy electric to damn pretty acoustic.
Thank you for the opportunity to answer these thoughtful and knowledgeable questions. And of course thanks to Michael for inviting me to be a part of this project.