Beating The System

[Hovik]

San Diego CityBEAT, CA
Aug 3 2005

BEATING THE SYSTEM

Despite a 'difficult' sound and a disregard for marketing, System of a Down sells millions
by Troy Johnson

"I have two penises. And fungus growing on both."

"Oh, OK. Congratulations."

"I heard scaring people cures the hiccups."

"Thank you. I think it helped. Actually, I was just concerned for
you."

In his soft, hiccup-impeded voice, Serj Tankian does indeed sound
genuinely concerned, even at my juvenile gaffe. You get the feeling
the vocalist for System of a Down has a rather large capacity for
concern. Whether it's regarding the genocide of his native Armenian
people, the Wild West recklessness of the Bush administration or just
researching the ethics of, say, a beverage company that wants to
sponsor his band's tour, he spends a good amount of his time trying
to do the right thing.

"I annoy management, and I annoy our lawyers, and I annoy our merch
company- everyone-because I'm trying to get so much information," he
admits. "But in the end I think it's worth it. If I can do the right
thing for us mostly and catch as much of the mistakes as possible,
then that's good, isn't it?"

It is good. It's also costly. They are the perfect b(r)and for a
Fortune 500 company looking to up its hip index. Their new album,
Mezmerize, debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 chart, selling
430,000 copies in its first week, their best sales yet.

"We've turned down millions and millions of dollars-be it
sponsorships for tours or television stuff," Tankian explains,
refusing to name specific companies they didn't feel inclined to
partner with. "We play music, but it's really important to pay
attention as much as we can to all aspects of our business and how
we're doing it. Because if we're doing it in a way that doesn't
represent us, then that's a problem. It's not just because of press,
not just because of fans, but personally."

Tankian agrees that there are positive aspects of commercial
sponsorship, especially how it allows artists to lower the price of
concert tickets for their fans. But after spending 12 years making
sure that everything surrounding them-from sponsorships to
merchandise and movies-jibes with their own ideals, the band is not
about to trade integrity for cash.

"It's a tough call," he acknowledges. "But if Coke wanted to sponsor
us, we can't do it. We can't work with a company that has no respect
of labor standards. Now, if there's an equitable company that does
good for the world and has done good stuff, and we believe in their
standards, then there's a possibility of us working together."

So it's peculiar that System of a Down recently played a promotional
concert at Best Buy, a company that gets a lot of heat for draconian
business practices that hurt independent music retailers.

Tankian explains: "We did it because they had a whole promotion
campaign. They get heat from indie stores, but if I found out that
Best Buy's business practices or environmental practices were not so
cool, then that would be different. And sometimes you don't know, to
be honest with you, man. It's very hard to know everything."

They don't have the commercial staying power of a pop star like
Mariah Carey, whose album is still No. 2 after 15 weeks. It's not
surprising, really. For their first "single," SOAD released "BYOB"
(Bring Your Own Bombs), a song that takes a lyrical machete to Bush
and is rife with the f-word.

Not the greatest marketing move.

"We're not the greatest marketing band in the world, to be honest
with you," Tankian readily admits. "If we were, we would probably
release some sort of single from our third record. Instead, we
decided to make an anti-war video with Michael Moore before the Iraqi
war even occurred. And that wasn't the best marketing move."

Another reason SOAD's massive commercial success is so surprising is
the music itself, a disjointed mix of hard rock that shifts tempos
and genres 50 times over, sometimes in the same song. It's music that
eschews convention as sport. Any effort to find music that's as "out
there" and still sells buckets eventually leads to a discussion of
Radiohead.

"There is a surprising element to [our success], definitely," Tankian
admits. "But we've been at it for 10 years of touring and working
hard for our fans. It's not until later [that] commercial
outlets-radio, video-actually caught on. And so, in some ways I am
and some ways I'm not surprised."

Mezmerize itself is an example of how System of a Down worked for its
fans-by showing restraint. Though the band had completed enough songs
to issue a double-album, they decided against it because, well, they
thought such overabundance sucks for the music listener.

"We wanted to put six albums into one; they wouldn't let us," Tankian
laughs. "We had way too much material. We've always hated long
records because it takes too much-it becomes a little overwhelming. I
don't like listening to more than 40 minutes of music at a time from
an artist, even if I love them. After 40 minutes, it's almost like
your ear needs a break."

Fans will hear the rest of the band's new material this fall, when
SOAD releases the rest of it on Hypnotize, Part 2 of their recent
work. Meanwhile, their current tour with Mars Volta is underway,
Tankian is reading scripts to choose a film to score, and the band
continues its campaign to have the Armenian genocide recognized as
such, even though Tankian admits "we're kind of tired of doing
it-it's got to happen already."

For the latter, Tankian will take part in a new documentary about the
genocide, part of which includes the story of his grandfather, a
survivor who may or may not be 97 years old.

"He doesn't know his real age," Tankian explains. "And that comes
from having lost all documents and home and family and not knowing
your complete identity.... The thing about the Armenian genocide is
that it's got to come out. It's going to be the best thing for
everyone involved."

System of a Down plays with Mars Volta at the Sports Arena, 7 p.m. on
Aug. 6. $39.50-$44. 619-220-8497.

[Hovik]

System of Down on the upswing

The Record, NJ
Aug 19 2005

System of Down on the upswing

Friday, August 19, 2005

By MARIKO BECK
SPECIAL TO THE RECORD



WHO: System of a Down, with the Mars Volta and Bad Acid Trip.

WHAT: Hard rock/metal.

WHEN: 7 p.m. Tuesday.


WHERE: Continental Arena, East Rutherford; (201) 935-3900.

HOW MUCH: $32.50 to $45, Ticketmaster

Daron Malakian never expected commercial success as a musician. Born
to immigrant parents and raised in a ramshackle area of Hollywood,
System of a Down's guitarist and vocalist admits he's a little leery
of mainstream adulation.

"I always knew I would be an artist, but to be successful is crazy,"
Malakian says. "I have two parents who are artists, but they never
made any money."

Indeed, the Los Angeles quartet, all of Armenian descent, would seem
an unlikely candidate for arena rock band status. They're definitely
not pretty boys. Two of them sport creative facial hair. And their
music is confrontational and unrelenting in a time of "American Idol"
pop ballads and heartfelt emotion.

Their latest album, "Mezmerize," mines their Hollywood roots - not the
sunny, star-studded image but the gritty underbelly. The band members
were raised in the Armenian enclave of Los Angeles. Those memories
fuel the lyrics to "Lost in Hollywood," a place where "vicious streets
are filled with strays" and "phony people come to pray."

"To really get to know any place in the world, you have to go to
its ghettos," Malakian says. "You can say I lived in the ghettos. I
grew up in a neighborhood where there was a hotel with hookers out
in front and stuff like that."

As part of their cultural heritage, the band members also grew up in
the shadow of the Armenian genocide.

For the past three years, System of a Down has performed a benefit
concert to commemorate the genocide and raise money for human rights
groups. More than a half-million Armenians died at the hands of the
Ottoman Turks between 1915 and 1923. The survivors scattered across
the globe.

The diaspora is evident by looking at the birthplaces of the four
System members. Malakian is the only U.S. native. Lead vocalist Serj
Tankian and drummer John Dolmayan were born in Beirut. Bassist Shavo
Odadjian was born in Armenia.

Malakian, Tankian and Odadjian met as students at a private Armenian
school in Hollywood. They formed System of a Down in 1995, with
Dolmayan coming on board the following year.

"Mezmerize" is their first release since "Toxicity" in 2001. It's
also the first part of a two-CD set - "Hypnotize" will come out
in the fall. Malakian said the band decided to release the two CDs
separately to give each disc breathing room: A double album is like
being introduced to 30 people at a party, Malakian says. You can't
possibly spend quality time with each song.

"I'm not the type of person who thinks that just because we sold a
zillion records, everyone has to sit there and listen to our album,"
he says.

System of a Down has developed a reputation for questioning the powers
that be and for biting political and social commentary. "Mezmerize"
is no exception. In the track "BYOB," Malakian and Tankian share vocal
duties. The war in Iraq transforms into a party where everybody is
"dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine." Then they ask: "Why
don't presidents fight the war?/ Why do they always send the poor?"

In the case of the war in Iraq, the political is also personal
for Malakian. His parents emigrated from Iraq. The family has many
relatives there.

"Having them over there is not easy," he says. "I try to think as
positive as I can. If anything, it makes me sympathize with families
who have their own sons and daughters out fighting the war, a crazy
and stupid war. Some people say, 'He must hate America.' Actually I
sympathize more with the families that have young kids over there.
There's no reason for them to be there."

"Mezmerize" tempers the outrage with moments of kookiness, too. A
song about Dodger Stadium has the actor Tony Danza cutting in line.
The bizarre lyric that gets the most ink comes from "This Cocaine
Makes Me Feel Like I'm on This Song," which pairs the words "gonorrhea"
and "gorgonzola."

The self-effacing Malakian says he never expects anyone to like
the band's songs. Despite the acclaim that "Toxicity" brought,
the group never once thought about how "Mezmerize" and "Hypnotize"
would be received by critics or by fans. Trying to force songs into
a mold is the artistic kiss of death, Malakian says. "We've got to
be our favorite band," he says. "We have to love ourselves. If you
love yourself, other people love you, too.

"Even my own tastes can't interfere with the song," he continues.
"The song comes from another place. You can't feed the song what you
want. The song asks for things, and you have to give them."