Written & Photographed by David Booth
@hellbenderbluesmedia
Look at Kirk Windsteins fingers. The tattoo says “RIFF LORD”. I have never gotten an award that was impressive enough to tattoo on my hands. “There’s also the fact that “Most Honest Golfer” doesn’t really fit very well on eight fingers. For one to ink a title or nickname on yourself it had better mean something, and you better be able to back it up. The Riff Lord award is given away at the annual Golden God Awards to a person whose musical output separates itself from the riff raff. Few people wear that name and award better than the recipient of the 2011 award, Kirk Windstein of Crowbar, Kingdom of Sorrow, and formerly of Down. Kirk does what most in the genre do, he just does it better. Every band has guitarists and writers. His songs stick in your head like bong resin. Every band has a singer. Windstein’s raspy voice is reminiscent a car crusher full of razor blades, but it’s still musical and consistently on key. Everybody in doom metal has a beard these days. Only one is known as the beard of doom. Some titles deserve a tattoo (and fit nicely on eight fingers). Windstein’s status as riff royalty is as clear as his hand in front of your face.
Kirk’s musical history began in Victorian Blitz, which was a New Orleans based cover band that did Judas Priest and Iron Maiden songs. Kirk left Victorian Blitz and joined a hardcore band called Shell Shock as it’s guitarist and singer. Kirk’s influence moved the band into a more metal/punk crossover sound. Sadly, Mike Hatch, Kirk’s friend and the other Shell Shock guitarist committed suicide in 1988. Windstein continued on with the rest of the band under several names including Aftershock, Wrequiem, and The Slugs. Following a number of personnel changes, including the addition of Todd Strange on bass, the band dissolved in 1990, at which time Windstein and Strange started Crowbar. The band released Obedience Through Suffering in 1991. Both Windstein and Strange were also founding members of what was to be one of the most consequential bands of the era, the New Orleans supergroup, Down.
The concept of a supergroup wasn’t a new one, however Down broke new ground in the category by not sucking. The most common result when you get a bunch of heavy hitters together is a product that is not equal to the sum of its parts. Throw four or five prolific musicians into a sausage grinder and you end up with, at best, the okay-ist album of the year. Even some of the best examples are hardly a shining moment in anyone’s discography. When was the last time you heard anyone say “Tom Petty’s best album is Travelling Wilbury’s Handle with Care?” Enter Down. Their first album, NOLA, hit with the subtlety of a hand grenade. Five friends and established New Orleans musicians created a rare commodity; an album that could easily stand with any of the member musicians other efforts. This accomplishment was no mean feat, when you consider the bands in which the musicians in Down made their bones. In addition to Windstein and Strange, Down consisted of Phil Anselmo, who had just hit heavy music with a primal concrete sledge hard enough to shift the foundations of the metal scene, and Corrosion of Conformity’s Pepper Keenan right off the heels of Deliverance, his legendary first effort as the band’s frontman. Jimmy Bower, who was from pretty much every band in New Orleans, but notably Eyehategod and early versions of Crowbar was on Drums. The sound was unmistakably New Orleans in origin with its slippery and loose guitar riffs and drums deep behind the beat. Where Crowbar frequently had twinned guitar lines, Down highlighted the two contrasting styles of Keenan and Windstein, with Kirks faster, more technical skills complemented by Keenans heavier handed, but incredibly melodic old school southern rock sensibilities.
I took the opportunity to spend some time with the fans, the band, and the music, seeing Crowbar play with his old bandmate Pepper on Crowbar’s latest tour with Corrosion of Conformity. After seeing the band’s Detroit and Toronto shows, I wanted more, so I did what any responsible adult would do. I road tripped down to their home town of New Orleans for the closing date of their tour and an inside look at Kirk Windstein and Crowbar, the band he’s fronted for the last three decades.
Flint, Michigan
The Machine Shop in Flint, Michigan doesn’t need a lot of description. Think of a movie set that someone would design to be a rock and roll roadhouse in a leather skinned blue collar town. That’s exactly what the Machine Shop looks like. The outside is a single story long and low slung building with a sign written in old west biker style font. Inside the bar, there’s a motorcycle on the wall. The place is decorated in early Mad Max. The corner stage is separated from the crowd with a series of poles with chain strung across them. This place is a Harley t-shirt with four walls and a roof. Don’t confuse dive chic for a shit bar. It’s a great venue. It’s well kept up, has great sightlines, and good staff. It’s the perfect venue to see a rock band. When I arrived, the bands were loading in, and I caught a glimpse of Kirk walking into the bar from the tour vehicles parked alongside the edge of the bar. Kirk is pretty easy to spot in a crowd. Backwards trucker hat? Check. About five and a half feet tall? Check. Built like a college wrestler? Check. Beard that looks like it should be helping a hobbit bring a ring into Mordor? Check. We are positive for Windstein I went up and introduced myself to him and his wife/manager/merch czar Robin. We exchanged phone numbers and arranged a meetup in Toronto for an interview.
As the crowd filed into the bar, Kirk was present at the merchandise table, talking, signing autographs and taking pictures with the fans. Windstein seems to be someone at home with his audience.
This was my first time seeing Crowbar, and they did not disappoint. Crowbar’s sound is music you feel as much as you hear it. I don’t mean the words or mood. I mean the actual music. The guitars are tuned down to B. That’s almost half way to bass guitar tuning. The music is low and slow enough that it physically hits you in the chest like a sonic bludgeon. The band sounds tight and is comprised of amazing musicians. Tommy Buckley on the drums has been with Crowbar for 15 years, and Matt Brunson for 10. They need to be good to fill the shoes of their predecessors. Crowbar has had some of New Orleans best musicians spend time backing up Kirk, including drummers Jimmy Bower (Down, Eyehategod, Superjoint, Corrosion of Conformity) and Craig Nunemacher, who later left to join Black Label Society. Lead Guitar Duties have been handled at different times by Steve Gibb (Black Label Society, Saigon Kick, Kingdom of Sorrow, 58) and Sammy Duet (Acid Bath, Goatwhore). The newest member of the fold is Shane Wesley, who took over for original and recently returned Bassist Todd Strange, who had left the life as a touring musician in 2000, and rejoined in 2016 for a short time before getting married and buying a ranch in Texas. Bassists including Pat Bruders (Down, Goatwhore) and Rex Brown (Down, Pantera) have also spent time in or contributing to Crowbar.
Kirk doesn’t do the same amount of wandering the stage that he does in Down. The movement suits the music. It’s deliberate and driven. The crowd, however, was another matter. By the second song, the crowd was a roiling sea of humanity, with the music pulling and churning the crowd like a tidal moon towards the stage and into each other.
“The next record will be our 12th full length record. That’s a lot of music. We’re still hungry, all of us, and we still have something to prove.”
Toronto, Ontario
Toronto’s Venue was the Opera House, which is a 110-year-old former Vaudville house and movie theatre, and for 30 years has been a live music venue. I had the chance to sit down with Kirk to talk about his music and the band. When asked about how he knows what makes a good riff, Kirk stated “You just know a good riff. I call it the money riff. Take a song like “To Build a Mountain”. That’s a money riff. I built a little bit around that and there was a song. I think it’s just experience. knowing what’s not enough, knowing what’s too much. It’s like cooking gumbo or something. Once we have one killer riff, we have a song. That was always the same mentality with Down, and from what Phil (Anselmo) tells me that was basically Pantera’s mentality as well. If you have one killer riff you can write around it.”
We discussed the other bands in the New Orleans scene and whether he realized the significance of the different bands coming out of the area at the time. Kirk said that “I think we all realized there were a lot of bands doing something really original, really different. Different from one another, but also different from anything that was out there. We laugh about it because no one of our bands sound like one another. It’s really strange. even a band like Down. You throw that in. Down and Crowbar sound nothing alike but they have something in common. Soylent Green had more of a grind thing, but have something in common, Goatwhore is black metal, but there’s still something in common. Looking back, we didn’t know it would be something that would end up being called the New Orleans sound or be as influential as we seem to be on other bands and what not. All the stars lined up. I think we would all go on to something special somehow. All these bands came out at about the same time. It was something special.”
In discussing the unifying themes of the New Orleans sound in general, Windstein thinks a lot of credit goes to the drumming style and sound. “That’s what it all comes down to. That half time, a little behind the beat thing is just a New Orleans sound thing in general. All the bands from New Orleans, the older bands, the originals like the Meters and the Neville Brothers, everybody’s got that behind the beat groove. That’s just something that’s New Orleans.”
Crowbar has been around for approximately 30 years, and they continue to put out great material, In fact, I believe that two of the band’s strongest albums are the two most recent albums, Sever the Wicked Hand and The Serpent Only Lies. Many bands after three decades are putting out souvenir beer coasters in the shape of CD’s as an excuse to tour, with rehashes of trodden ground walked long enough to establish a deep rut that they never get out of. Kirk still prioritizes making his new material relevant and an important piece of the Crowbar legacy.
Kirk stated, “None of us other than Down and Pantera have had huge success, so I think we’re still hungry. I think we’re still striving to create great music, not resting on our laurels. Not satisfied with what we’ve accomplished. We don’t just write a record to go on tour. I want to write great new songs. I think we all do. The next record will be our 12th full length record. That’s a lot of music. We’re still hungry, all of us, and we still have something to prove. We can’t just go out and play our greatest hits list and everyone is happy and like you said, putting out a beer coaster at the merch booth for people to buy. We’d love for the new music to be relevant, for us to always be improving.”
One intriguing thing Windstein has said in a number of interviews is how he wants his bands, both Down and Crowbar, to be like the bands he listened to growing up, and to have a similar quality to groups like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath. When asked if he thinks bands like Crowbar and Down would sound different if they had come up during that same classic rock era, Kirk replied, “If we were back then? I think our attitude is to strive to be original. Love it or hate it, Crowbar sounds like Crowbar, Eyehategod sounds like Eyehategod. Same with COC or Down or whoever it may be. If we were a band from the late 60’s early 70’s, if you were to put us back in time, we would be doing something different from what everybody else was doing. Sabbath and Zeppelin were doing stuff nobody else was doing. I think if they were here today they’d be doing something different than everybody else, which is what we do.”
When discussing his exit from Down, Kirk said he had no regrets on why he left Down and the resulting focus on Crowbar, stating “It was time” and there was no drama or bad blood. Kirk stated that the split worked out best for everyone, and he’s happy with how Crowbar is as a band now.
You don’t even have to talk to Kirk to know that he’s a Classic Rock junkie. He’s a walking classic band billboard, with readily visible Thin Lizzy, Led Zeppelin, Twisted Sister, St Vitus, Motorhead, and Type O Negative tattoos. The conversation inevitably transitioned over to KISS. It was interesting hearing him talk about the band. His overall approach to music was easy to see when he was talking about their sound, and talking about their style before they hit the repetitive chugging sound that they came in the mid and late 80’s. Discussing his favorite album, Hotter than Hell, he immediately brought up and sang the riff from “Watchin’ You”. Thinking about that album, I can also see influences of songs like “Parasite” in Down, and the kind of feel and pacing from a song like “Goin’ Blind” in Crowbar’s work. There’s something different talking to a person who sees the world through music, in how they light up when talking about their favorite bands. Kirk was excited about the fact that he had met Ace Frehley a few years ago. It was obvious that despite the fact that Kirk has spent 30 years in the business, his passion as a music fan reflects in how he interacts with his audience from the stage, and person-to-person off stage.
Crowbar took to the stage after the Obsessed and played an amazing set to the enthusiastic Toronto crowd. When I told Kirk and Robin that I was going to be in New Orleans with my wife for the last show of the tour, they invited us to a good old fashioned crawfish boil the day after the New Orleans gig.
New Orleans, Louisiana
In preparing for my trip to New Orleans, I made plans to go to the show with my friend, musician, and Crowbar fan, Joey Burch. I asked him about his thoughts on why he is such a huge Crowbar fan, and what makes the music unique. His description was about as apt as any I’ve heard. He said, “I love Kirk’s use of melody and harmony. Somehow, he’s able to make something so beautiful so heavy. It sounds like a funeral and an awakening at the same time. It’s like a chorus of angels that had smoked for years, got beaten down by circumstance and then combined their natural vocal beauty with angst.” He’s right. Windstein’s gravelly but musical voice is like a sledgehammer wrapped in a velvet bag. It’s equal parts classic blues singer and claymore mine. There’s this huge heavy edge, but a musical sophistication that is often left out by bands who are focusing on being the heaviest and hardest. His vocal lines are loaded with examples of a broad vocal range and little minor scale note changes that make the songs more intricate than one might notice with only a passing listen.
After two days and seven states worth of driving, we arrived in the Big Easy and went to the Southport Music Hall. We arrived and saw Robin and Kirk at the Crowbar merch table. They reminded us about the crawfish boil which, to be honest, I had felt equal parts excitement and trepidation about. On one hand, there were going to be some fascinating people from Down and Crowbar and other bands there. On the other hand, I’ve never eaten crawfish. I’ve always seen crawfish as the cockroach of the sea. We would enjoy the evening and cross that crustacean when we got to it.
The opening bands, Intrepid Bastards and Space Cadaver, did a fine job of warming the crowd up. You could feel the excitement from both sides of the stage when Crowbar made their appearance. The combination hometown crowd and last show of the tour had Kirk especially animated, leaning over the monitors, playing solos on the edge of the stage and interacting with the energetic crowd full of rabid Crowbar fans. The end of the set had Pepper Keenan show up on stage and cajole Kirk into singing his somewhat famous and Crowbarred cover of “Dream Weaver”. Kirk returned the favor at the end of COC’s set where he came up and sang two verses of Corrosion of Conformity favorite “Albatross”.
We arrived to the crawfish boil at Kirk’s friends house, known affectionately as “the compound”. We arrived to the sight of two very large pots on propane burners, filled with vegetables, water, and hundreds of crawfish who were probably less enthused about the menu than the rest of the crowd. I did the reasonable thing under the circumstances, which was to pick up a small boiled animal and tear the tail off of it. I was relieved and a little bit shocked to find that crawfish are delicious. It wasn’t the only surprise of the afternoon. There was a lot more Billy Joel and Journey in the playlist than I expected to hear around a table of some of the heaviest bands in New Orleans. There was something disarming about hearing a bunch of professional heavy metal musicians singing “Don’t Ask Me Why” and “House of the Rising Sun” while huddled around a table doing their part to control the local crawfish and Coors Light population. Kirk and I had a chance to talk more about Crowbar. We discussed the significance of the solid state Randall RG100 amp in the overall New Orleans sound, being the amp that Jimmy Bower, Sammy Duet, and Kirk used for much of their career.
In discussing the split of guitar duties in Down, Kirk explained, “One guy came up with the riff for the song, and the other played over to compliment it. Whoever came up with a riff presented it and we worked together on it. Phil also came up with a lot of riffs, and sometimes we wrote stuff together.”
By the end of the evening, I had to ask the question that first popped into my mind outside the Machine Shop in Flint. “The beard, Kirk. How long has it been? When did you last see your face?”
Kirk smiled and said, “The last time I shaved was during the recording of Down II.”
Down II was recorded 17 years ago. “Is it a permanent fixture, or is the beard of doom ever going to start from stubble again?”
“It’s there for good. I want to be the Dr. John of Metal”. That could possibly be the most New Orleans answer to that question I could imagine.
The afternoon felt like a family gathering with old friends, along with current and former Crowbar members celebrating the run up to Mardi Gras and the return of the band back to their life off the road. It was a unique pleasure to be invited to a gathering of that tightly knit a group, and humbling as strangers to be welcomed and treated with such hospitality and warmth. Windstein’s musical catalogue speaks for itself, and says a lot about him as an artist, but the company he keeps and the respect he gets from his peers in a city filled with talented musicians says a lot about the man himself.
One of the most memorable things Kirk and I discussed was the dark and brooding nature of the lyrics of the Crowbar songs, where Kirk pointed out, “They’re heavy and dark, but there’s always hope in them. An aspect of overcoming problems, and the positivity of moving past the things that you’re dealing with”. Just like the music, the lyrics hit hard, but there is a duality to them of darkness and hope, doom and beauty. Harshness and musicianship.
It sometimes feels like the art and beauty of a city lies in the space between it’s sacred and it’s profane. The co-existing forces of sin and salvation. New Orleans is a city of problems and joy. Its soul is weighed down by tragedy, and lifted up by hope and love. Much of it’s beauty lies in the sidewalks long since broken and left uneven by tree roots and the cracks and peels of its structures. Crowbar shares that divided but inseparable mix of seeming opposites, and much like the city, is loved for the complexity it embraces. Despite their long history, both Crowbar and New Orleans may still have it’s best years in front of it.
“[Crowbar’s lyrics] are heavy and dark, but there’s always hope in them. An aspect of overcoming problems, and the positivity of moving past the things that you’re dealing with”
