LA grindcore pioneers Crom are supposed to take the stage at Cake Shop tonight at 12 to inaugurate their first ever East Coast tour. An hour ago when these pictures were sent to us, they were on a sixth-story walkup in DUMBO, so we gave them a call to see how they were feeling on the cusp of this momentous occasion.
Vice: Hi Scott?
Scott (guitar): Hey, buddy… —ow are… seven… how’re you doing?
I’m good, I think there’s some sort of phone thing happening.
Yeah, that’s probably it. What can I do you for, broheim?
I wanted to see how you guys were feeling before tonight’s show.
[really drawn out laughter] Not well, but, uh, well. It depends on who you ask I guess, right?
Who would say it’s not well?
I’m just saying it’s well in my mind, but wuhhhhhOHHH it’s getting dangerous. There’s a blizzard—eh, or there’s a storm front.
I hear you had—
I don’t know.
I hear you had an encounter with some stairs.
Yeah, we hate stairs. LA is stairless. Everything is one floor.
You guys are supposed to go on at midnight, right?
Yeah, you coming?
I’m planning on—
Wait. Is this an interview?
Yeah, that’s why I called.
Aw, fuck. OK, all right. Sorry. I was just being brotherly. OK, so ask me questions again.
The same ones?
I don’t care.
What should people expect from the show tonight?
Ummmm… God… You know what? Here, let me put you on the phone with somebody who has something to say.
Will (vocals): Good afternoon?
Who is this?
Is this still Scott?
[muttering followed by loud slamming noise]
So Will threw the phone back at me. He’s the one that’s strategizing—here.
[in the background]
Will: [at the top of his lungs] I don’t know what you fucking want!
Scott: Why don’t you stop being a fucking prick and do this?
[back on phone] Trace Crutchfield: Hey Thomas, this is Trace.
That was the singer, Will Helphin.
[background] Will: Hephlin.
Trace: Hephlin—Helphin to some. He just took the phone and threw it down. Now he’s back in.
Will: [thick southern accent] Baby I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you. Doin OK, sweetchucks?
I’ll get over it.
OK, so let’s let’s let’s let’s—is this real?
Are you going to interview me, or are you just fucking with me?
No, this is for real.
Why don’t you just come out and hang out with us? [shouting in background, loud metallic scraping]
This has to go on the site before you play. Otherwise there’s no point.
[background] Scott: He thinks I’m going to have—
Deep joke voice (also unknown): Bear girls. [possibly “beer girls”]
Scott: He looks like a freaking chicken.
[back on phone] Will: OK, you’ve got five, you’ve got five questions. Better make em count. Go.
K, did you have to go up the stairs with the rest of the guys?
Will: I don’t go up stairs, I hover. HEY EY EY, BRING THAT BACK HERE… Hold on a second. [sucking sound] This is some weird coke.
[indeterminate screaming for 15 seconds]
What’s going on there? It sounded like there’s some sort of mechanical apparatus operating.
No we’re doing blow and listening to Lil Wayne. The usual.
What should people who’ve never seen you play expect tonight
…Boy, that’s a boring question. You know, honestly? If they’re well-versed in West Coast power violence… they should be prepared to witness… the brutality… continuing… again. But IF, they are not well-versed in West Coast power violence, like nerdy bitches, then fuck em.
Just so we’re on the same page, can you clarify which bands you consider power violence?
Um, it’s just brutality. [long pause] I mean, it doesn’t matter if the reference point is thrash metal or black metal.
Wait, you’re saying thrash counts as power violence?
[in background] Scott:. Oh my god.
Will: That's the thing about West Coast power violence. It is Thunderdome. It is the future. It's the past. It's the kick in the ass you need. [to Scott] That's all you, dude.
Unknown: I'll do it.
Will: Hold on a second.
[background] Unknown: Good god.
[extremely loud snort]
Will: Achtung baby.
[extremely loud laughing]
[back on phone]Will: So yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah. West Cost power violence. You either come or you don't. That's it. Done and done dude.