We’ve seen it a million times—in Disney movies, in Life magazine: a brethren’s oath, solidified by the pricking of the skin and the subsequent blending of the blood. In society’s eyes, this hematic fraternization transcends traditional blood ties and tribal alliances to become the zenithal bond.
In 1997, five boys from the Eastside came together in a figurative personification of that concept. This motley crew of skinny teens blossomed into the Blood Brothers, whose solidarity as both a musical group and a bastion of Seattle’s ever-changing musical climate strengthens daily. Now, almost 10 years later, the Blood Brothers have just released their fifth album, Young Machetes, and are poised to expose their unique brand of incendiary noise to an ever-expanding audience on a 48-city U.S. tour.
“We started this band when I was 15,” guitarist Cody Votolato tells me from L.A. on the eve of the first date of their tour. “I’ve spent just about a third of my life in this band so it’s hard to imagine not being [here].” When a group has been around for as long as the Blood Brothers have, it’s only a matter of time before people start questioning their direction.
“I just see us continuing on in the same way we always have: releasing records and touring on them.” Votolato counters. “There are still cities and countries that we would love to play and see; there’s also lots of ground that I feel like we could cover, musically and artistically. It’s an exciting time right now because we have a new record that we are really proud of, but equally exciting in the sense that we’ll soon be able to start writing new music together.”
Young Machetes is worthy of all praise. Where 2002’s March on Electric Children embodied a “short story set to music” and 2004’s Crimes was an ensemble of visceral reactions to President Bush’s policies, Machetes almost plays out as a retrospective of the nine-plus years since the band’s inception. Some tracks could have been culled from the Crimes cutting-room floor while others demonstrate the insistent cacophony found on earlier albums Children and This Adultery Is Ripe. Recurring Blood Brothers themes of aviary images, flames, broken bones, and disaffected youth remain on Machetes, and sonic advances are made through songs such as “Street Wars/Exotic Foxholes” and “Spit Shine Your Black Clouds,” featuring snaking bass lines (“Clouds”) and quiet oboes, harmonicas, and acoustic guitars (“Street Wars”), proving once again that the Blood Brothers are constantly striving to disprove typical notions of what their signature sound may be.
Machetes reflects a sense of maturity yet to be seen from the band, which may be primarily attributed to the coproducing duties assigned to John Goodmanson (Blonde Redhead, Crimes) and Fugazi’s Guy Picciotto. “We met Guy at a show of ours in D.C. when we were touring off of Crimes,” vocalist Jordan Blilie says. “Soon thereafter, we asked him if he’d be interested in doing some recording with us. It turned out to be the most fun we’ve ever had making a record.”
As with Fugazi, politics have consistently played a strong role for the Blood Brothers. Case in point: the band’s declaration that they’d never play a Clear Channel–owned venue. With Clear Channel morphing into Live Nation and purchasing national venue managers House of Blues along the way, that climate has changed. “We’ve done our best to avoid Clear Channel–owned/operated venues, but sometimes other options don’t exist,” says Blilie. “It comes down to, ‘Do we play a venue whose politics we don’t agree with, or do we skip these cities?'” Since loyalty to their fans trumps internal politics, the choice is clear. “Ultimately, it’s most important that the people that support us get the chance to see us when we come through their town.”
Political views weigh heavy, however, on the Machetes powerhouse “Lift the Veil, Kiss the Tank.” A scathing summation of the armed forces’ recruiting techniques, the song denounces the military’s promises of fancy weapons, intelligent warfare, fame, and glory. “Death’s just death, no matter how you dress it up,” co-vocalist Johnny Whitney declares near the song’s ending. Buoyed by a refrain of brotherly hymnal-like chanting, the song evokes visions of an army uprising, and in doing so symbolizes the same philosophy the group has embodied for so long: united as brothers we stand.