Alluvion, Doom, and Catharsis: A conversation with Mizmor

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Mizmor and Hell

Over the years, Mizmor’s A.L.N. and Hell’s M.S.W. have collaborated with each other on and off. They’ve played in bands together, but A.L.N. and M.S.W. have likewise performed in each other’s bands. Now 20 years into their friendship, the two have joined forces for a brand-new collaboration.

Alluvion is not only a brand-new album from Mizmor and Hell, but also the first proper collaboration between the two. Aside from a split they created in 2014, the two friends have never actually teamed up for an album. Separately, Mizmor and Hell are incredible forces of doom, each’s music reeking with ominous tension and atmosphere. On Alluvion, released earlier this month, their combined talents offer a remarkable experience brimming with tremendous emotion.

For those unfamiliar, alluvion is a term that means “the action of the sea or a river in forming new land by deposition.” Over the course of the album’s four tracks, A.L.N. and M.S.W. use this idea as a foundation to explore what it means to push forward when confronted by life’s obstacles. Alluvion is also the final release to come from Gilead Media before they officially shut their doors.

In a recent phone call with A.L.N., we had the opportunity to talk about his relationship with M.S.W., themes in Alluvion, what it means to find catharsis in doom metal, and more. The following interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Treble: At the heart of Alluvion is you and M.S.W.’s friendship. Can you take us back to when you two first met and started collaborating?

ALN: I met M.S.W. either at the end of seventh grade or the beginning of eighth grade. He had a band in Salem, Oregon, where we’re both from, called Sunmarine. It was a three-piece band with two other friends. They already had recorded some demos, played a couple shows, but they were looking for a singer. Through mutual friends, I ended up joining that band. For a couple years, I would write songs and bring them to the band. Sometimes M.S.W. or Alex or Chris would write songs and bring them to the band, and we’d all kind of hash them out together. That was an interesting way for us to get to know each other, because M.S.W. was the lead guitarist of that band, and before they got a singer, they were mostly instrumental. His guitar was kind of the top line in the band, and then I joined, and my voice was the top line. We often had to either compete for space or be mindful of one another or figure out how both of our personalities could kind of fit into the songs there. In the years proceeding, we were in other bands together as well. That’s the very beginning.

Treble: Though you and M.S.W. have worked together throughout the years—as far as Mizmor and Hell is concerned, you’ve only done the 2014 split.

ALN: That’s correct, aside from other connections. When M.S.W. first started Hell, he didn’t do his own vocals in the project, so me and one other guy did all the vocals on Hell I. I’ve also done some vocals here and there, guest spots, on a couple of his songs and albums. So, there was already that foundation in Hell. I started Mizmor and then I became the live drummer of Hell after a little while. I began to sell some Mizmor stuff at the Hell merch table. There was already kind of this like incestuous vibe to the relationship of the two projects, which eventually led to us doing the split together. But this is kind of the first time that we’ve really written music together from the ground up, just like two friends with guitars.

Treble: What do you think Alluvion represents or captures regarding you and M.S.W.’s friendship? What do you think he inspires out of you as an artist, and vice versa?

ALN: M.S.W. and I are both aware of this, but we do have something deeply subconscious and competitive in our relationship with one another. Most of the time, I think it’s a good thing, because we push each other in our respective projects. I think it was really special to collaborate because [our] backstory—I’m a live member of Hell and there were many years when M.S.W. was a live member of Mizmor as well. We’re just always making music with each other, but it’s usually the other person’s music that we’re helping with somehow. Or there’s some very loose collaborative element mixed in there somewhere. But to actually be like, let’s be equals here, and 50/50 write something—I can’t believe we’ve never done that before, honestly. I think that we both had certain hesitations, because each one of us rightfully has our own solo project; we’re the type of artists that have a really clear vision, know how to play all the instruments, and at some point, we’re just like, I need everyone else to go. This is my journal, I want to do everything, because that’s just what I need to do to feel okay about my art, you know?

I think it was cool for us to be like—obviously you’re proficient at that, I’m proficient at that, but what if we completely mix that together and just tried to see how it worked. Like I was saying, we were both a little bit hesitant in certain ways. I would like to control this thing, and M.S.W.’s kind of this way, and is that going to be able to trickle down in a harmonious way? I think we’re both just ever so slightly nervous; it’s hard to bring a solo project into a collaborative space.

Treble: Yeah, to surrender control.

ALN: Yeah. I’ve had a little bit of practice with that. I’ve done a couple other collaborations, and there’s something freeing about not being completely in control that emerges at some point. Basically, this is a long-winded way of saying we just love each other so much that whatever things we were nervous about kind of went out the window. Most of the time, I would say. We were just able to largely have fun and just have a pure creative spirit and not shut each other down. Just hear [each other] out, and I found it really interesting and pleasant, because we know each other so well. We both know each other’s idiosyncrasies so well; I can hear M.S.W.’s personality when I hear him play any instrument, and I imagine my music’s like that too.

It’s so nuanced with our personalities when we’re controlling every aspect that it was just a really interesting idea that, as friends and musical partners for 20 years, to finally make something from the ground up and just mix it all together.

Treble: Alluvion’s cover art has a strong Sisyphean vibe to it and considering the thematic exploration of hardship you embark on throughout the record, I’m curious to learn about your headspace during its creation. Before making the album, during, and where that process led you.

ALN: Absurdism and the myth of Sisyphus are incredibly important to me, and they’re running themes in Mizmor. M.S.W. and I touched base on what kind of themes we wanted to explore, and something that he said struck a chord with me, and kind of became a thought that we would return to. He said something along the lines of: “I just feel like I’ve made all these decisions in my life, all these choices, they’ve all led up to this moment or who I am right now or today. And I’m kind of stuck being the person that is the result of all of those decisions. Everything has kind of built up and accumulated into where I am right now. And there’s things I don’t like about where I am right now.”

[That] got me thinking about this concept of build ups and accumulation; how over time, accretion can create new land masses or change the boundary of an island as it accrues more silt and deposits. Even things like consciousness, biology, evolution, and whatnot, they’re all slow buildups. It’s all gradation and things just emerge over time in this sort of deterministic way. Our own psyches and own lives are no different. Without going into all the specifics of what both of our topographies look like at the moment, we’re these two metal musicians, these two friends, and both of us for most of our lives have struggled with anxiety and depression. We both have at some level, some sort of trauma, and we continue to need to make this really dark music to get a sort of catharsis and feel okay. There’s almost this sort of cycle to it where you live life, you glean experiences and information, and at some points, you’ll start to struggle. Eventually, in that struggle, your experience will trickle down into inspiration, and you’ll feel moved to pick up your instrument and try to channel some of the feelings and thoughts. Then you get that out and there’s some sort of release, a moment of clarity.

It’s all circumstantial, of course. But there’s this cycle of inspiration and writing and releasing, and then feeling the absence of that, and the meandering, directionless feeling when you’re uninspired and you tie up all your self-worth into creating art and things like that. I think that we were kind of reflecting on—Goddamnit, we’re still processing trauma. Here I am depressed or pissed off again and needing to write another blackened doom metal record, and like what the fuck even is all that?

Treble: While there can be exceptions, doom is a bleak form of metal. Yet, as a listener who also struggles with mental illness, I keep coming back to it to seek catharsis. Taking in what you just said, this notion of cycle is fascinating—you’re in a bad place, you make art to feel better, the art has this dark nature to it, you continue to not feel great, so you go back to making more of that art.

ALN: For me personally, I need there to be something redemptive at the end of all my albums for me to feel like it’s worth it or okay to put out because I care about the message. I never want my music to be like the soundtrack to someone’s suicide. Because why I make this music is therapeutic for me. I do it out of necessity. It’s just part of who I am, and it makes me feel better to share and to have this outlet and to get this stuff out. The purpose of sharing my music with other people is to help them have the same experience. I don’t just want to bring them down into the depths and leave them there. I think that it’s important to acknowledge negative emotions and feel them. There’s some really great heavy art that is not redemptive at all, and I think that that should exist too. But for me, the only reason I’m sharing my music is because I’ve learned over the years that to someone, it’s helpful. Otherwise, my art, to me, is too self-aggrandizing or self-centered. I need there to be a bigger purpose. I need to be helping people.

Otherwise, I’m not really okay with just using the entirety of my life to make art. Mizmor has kind of become charged by this; once I started playing live, stopped being so private, and started talking to my fans, realizing that people were helped by what I do has enriched the reach of my project so much more. I still do [the art] for me, but now I also do it for other people. I love to make something really depressing and evil sounding, but at the end of the day—to come back to Sisyphus —I’m choosing to live another day and roll the boulder up. Why?

The message of my music is not to let the boulder crush you or to give up. It’s to keep rolling the boulder up the hill. But to be honest about how unattractive that is sometimes, but to also try to figure out how to keep doing it.

Treble: When confronting how dark the world can feel, what are some of your practices for maintaining your mental health and well-being?

ALN: Music and art help a lot. That’s probably the thing I’ve been doing the longest; I’ve been making music and art since I was kid. [My music] has always been kind of dark. I’ve always liked creepy things, I’m just that kind of person with that brain chemistry. As an adult, I’m medicated, I’m in therapy off and on. I try to practice mindfulness, and I meditate sometimes. Battling depression makes some of these things [difficult to do sometimes], but I try to exercise a few times a week, go on walks. I derive a lot of value from my relationships. I have a wife; I love being a husband and trying to take care of and help her. We have two cats—having an animal is so [therapeutic].

Treble: Along with being its own work of great art, Alluvion marks some substantial moments in your life. It’s your first major collaboration with a good friend of 20 years, as well as your last record with Gilead Media. When you think about those respective histories and what lies ahead, what does Alluvion—the record and the concept behind it— represent to you now?

ALN: I think right now in my life, with the concept of alluvion, I feel my anxiety in life getting worse. I proactively try to counteract that, but I feel my life as an artist becoming more difficult. Being self-employed as an artist is really difficult, and every year is a struggle. It builds up, it wears on you thinking about, how am I going to make money over the next six months? Trying not to have that effect your art too much. Trying to make sure you’re working hard enough.

Putting yourself out there constantly as an artist—“Hey I made this thing! Do you like it?”—it’s so vulnerable. Now that I do that all the time, I know that’s the thing that I’m good at, the thing I feel I’m offering value to the world through. It can also be really taxing and sometimes I don’t want to do it. It’s nice to go back and forth between making a solo Mizmor record and making a record with a friend. It forces you to have a little bit more fun; relinquish a little bit more control momentarily.

Just connect, and that’s kind of what it’s all about. In hindsight—I mean, it took a while and there were frustrating parts, but that’s always true when you make a record—I’d say it was revitalizing. I think it was good for M.S.W. and I’s relationship. It was satisfying; we’re both good at what we do, we both had fun and made a beautiful piece of music together that will be around forever.

There’s definitely lots of reflection with closing out a chapter with Gilead. I know it’s a good thing for Adam [Bartlett, Owner of Gilead Media], so I’m happy [for him]. Adam is the first guy that took a chance on me; he released one of my full lengths, gave me some budget, and we’ve made so many records together. He’s just so pure of heart; he really is that like perfectly innocent Midwest kind of guy.


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