Elsewhere, though, philosophical similarities blend like harmonies from a barbershop quartet. In seeking to shorten the divide between artist and audience – foregoing formal record contracts for technological advancements such as virtual concerts, a social hub linked to Fortnite, NFTs sold through their Deathbats Club, and more – the younger group have swept away the kinds of 20th century business practices of which Metallica removed themselves by taking ownership of their own music and launching Blackened Records in 2012. The tactics employed by Avenged Sevenfold are different, of course, but the campaign is the same. In battling their way towards an endgame of total emancipation, both bands have evolved to the point of complete control over all they survey.
“We’re one of those bands who [have] actually survived releasing eight records for a major record label,” Matt explains. “And so we’ve seen a lot. And we’ve seen the numbers, and we’ve seen the ways that corporations pretty much control art. And it’s an interesting, weird sort of dynamic, but you’re going to get people involved who… take make money off the back of art. And one of the things that happens is that the artists say, ‘Leave me alone, I want to create.’ And that’s fair enough. I get that. But my own brain works a little differently. I like getting into the technology and the weeds of the contracts that we sign. I like seeing the deals and I like seeing how much somebody is making off me or our band – where it’s fair and where it’s a little egregious.”
Time was that purists would regard the kind of advice spoken by Gene Simmons – that, in the music business, briefcases are as important as guitars – as being the words of someone more interested in cash registers than chord progressions. It was the kind of chat that was seen as being a bit, you know, déclassé. A bit grubby. But with the days when the idealistic artist could make like an ostrich when confronted with matters relating to business long gone, today these words could hardly be more prophetic had they been engraved on tablets of stone.
With the decayed infrastructure of the past sustained only by habit and illusion, major labels are no longer good for securing window displays in record shops that, anyway, are closing at a depressing rate. Long gone are the days of labels fronting hundreds of thousands of dollars for music videos, or of promoting singles to radio stations that would punt their “product” upon the ears of listeners who would otherwise remain oblivious to a band’s existence. The game, you see, has changed. In an age of instant technology, of artists reaching listeners in seconds, MTV and KROQ are no longer the gatekeepers of public taste. As Matt says, “since the advent of the internet and the advent of streaming, we’ve basically been living in the wild west”.
He goes on.
“So now what they do is they go to TikTok and they take someone who’s already gone viral [on social media], but who doesn’t have a label and they wrap ’em up into a shitty deal,” he says. “But they can’t do anything for them. When Avenged Sevenfold were on Warner Bros., they were trying to figure out how to create a viral TikTok moment. What? I’m a fucking 42-year-old man, I’m not trying to figure out how to do a viral TikTok moment. I’m sorry. You’re going to take 24 cents on our dollar and that’s all you can do, come up with a fucking fake viral TikTok moment?”