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Plays: 1287
Views: 1714 |
Formed: 2003
iSound Site: www.isound.com/blackout_pact
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| The Blackout Pact Bio.
by Maggie Moody and Seth Berger
You have to feel sorry for the poor police officer in Bumfuck, Illinois. Forever burnt into his memory (and the memory of many other hapless folks) is the horrifyingly titillating image of six naked, tattooed boys coup |
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| The Blackout Pact Bio.
by Maggie Moody and Seth Berger
You have to feel sorry for the poor police officer in Bumfuck, Illinois. Forever burnt into his memory (and the memory of many other hapless folks) is the horrifyingly titillating image of six naked, tattooed boys coupled with the smell of rampant decay, boxed wine, Miller High Life, and a shit-ton of chicken bones. Spilling out of a tour van on the way to New York, this guileless man had just witnessed the epitome of The Blackout Pact’s elegant lifestyle. As demonstrated, these six crazies have an uncanny ability to foment all manner of unconventional trouble. On their way to success and beyond, The Blackout Pact has undoubtedly left their marks, whether shocking, painful, or uproariously funny, on countless characters along the way.
Hailing from the northern wasteland of Denver, Colorado, The Blackout Pact formed in early summer of 2003 as a cunning response to most of the members being kicked out of their former bands. Drawing from influences as pounding and diverse as Hot Water Music, Small Brown Bike, Alkaline Trio, The Lawrence Arms, and Murder City Devils, The Blackout Pact set out to play uncompromising, melodic, and gritty rock. The six piece consists of Mike Herrera, Wisam Alshaibi, Billy Jo Bailey, Joe Ramirez, Cory Trendler, and tour managing, jazzercising spiritual advisor, Seth Piracci. While innovating a defining style to them, the boys simultaneously emit a genuine loyalty to their rock roots. Incorporating the raw reality of their lives, ranging from homelessness, addiction, and the vast tumult of needing to “be somebody”, the band forged music that is emotional and inspirational, yet fun and melodic.
In March of 2004, the band was called upon to move to NYC from their hobbit-holes for a shot at signing to an unnamed Major Label. With no money, scant gear, and a Thanksgiving-sized helping of naïve innocence, The Blackout Pact made messianic sacrifices and courted the company of that harsh mistress known as Fame all for this chance. Although familiar with life’s splendorous highs, infernal lows, and creamy middles, little had prepared them for the destitution and despair they endured awaiting the opportunity to sign with a supportive record label. It’s been said by people smarter and drunker than I that you have to be at the bottom of the hole to get somewhere, and for The Blackout Pact, this is the case. The most sterling examples of harlotry in the music industry had sent naught but scandal and lies to the band and left them hopeless and discouraged, until one fateful moment. A chance meeting with Geoff Rickly, singer of Thursday and Tony award-winning producer, at a dumpy (yet beefy and delicious) hot dog dive was all it took to have their hopes granted. Geoff, somewhat of an icon if not demigod for many music lovers, bestowed lavish praise upon the boys and offered to produce their album, which lifted the sunken spirits of the band and opened the window of opportunity they needed to shout their rock and roll gospel to the world. Older, dirtier, and wiser, the band now has the support they need to fully express their music ideals and pure sincerity that all music should be about. At the heart of The Blackout family lays a core of intense loyalty and uncorrupted idealism that will carry them through both future success and turmoil.
After signing with Astromagnetics in October 2004, the band began writing their first album in a one room practice space in New Jersey. This windowless lair in an abandoned factory doubled as their home for the length of their stay. Living on despair, peanut butter, and cheap rolling tobacco, The Blackout Pact committed their efforts to creating the most astounding record possible, assisted by Astromagnetics’ Alex Saavedra, Marc Debiak, producer Geoff Rickly, and manager Frank Corva, of Triple Crown Records. Adhering to their beliefs of ingenuity and loyalty, these initial friendships paved the way to the future allegiances that would be the glue to bind the stolid ideas and goals of the band and label, and thus create the record they envisioned. What had seemed an Sisyphean task is now a bridge successfully crossed. Thanks to the tremendous help of Astromagnetics, Geoff Rickly, and their obliging (and often good-looking) friends, The Blackout Pact now has the means to both charm and char the minds and memories of whoever crosses their destructively unique path, by means of their exciting music and eclectic forms of licentiousness. “Nakedness is simply the tip of the iceberg, son.” |
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