Okay, picture this. You're back in high school.
Oh, boy. Right. Maybe it's sophomore year. You're
sitting in your garage with your best friend,
the kid who lives literally right next door.
You've both got these cheap beat -up guitars.
Right. You look at each other and make that exact
pact that every teenager makes at some point.
You say... We're going to start a band and we
are going to take over the world. It is the ultimate
classic American dream, isn't it? The Garage
Band. It totally is. But here's the reality check
for most of us. usually that band breaks up before
you even graduate high school. Or, you know,
maybe you play one absolutely terrible gig at
a local dive bar where the sound guy just hates
you, and you call it quits. Yeah, that is the
statistical norm. The failure rate for musical
groups starting in high school is, well, it's
effectively 100%. Life just happens. People go
to college, they get jobs, egos clash. But what
if it didn't? Because I've been looking through
this massive stack of notes you sent over for
today's deep dive into the source material, and
we are looking at a case study today that defies
all of that logic. Completely defies it. What
happens when that high school band, fueled by
nothing but friendship and what they called Midwestern
grid, actually just grinds it out for 20 years.
That is the story of Battlecross. Battlecross?
I mean, even the name sounds intense. It's very
intense. We are diving into the incredibly detailed
career of a band from Canton, Michigan, so the
Detroit suburbs. And they really bridged the
gap between the old school and the new school
of heavy metal. And honestly, going through their
comprehensive history, their discography, the
touring locks we have, this isn't just a story
about music. It's a story about logistics. economics,
and the sheer volatility of trying to be a working
-class band in the modern music industry. I love
that framing. Because when I saw the term blue
-collar thrash metal in the research, I thought
it was just marketing fluff. You know, a label
slapping a cool sticker on a CD case. But you're
saying it was their actual business model. It
was their entire identity. When you look at the
source material, all the interviews, the rigorous
timeline, you see a group of guys who treated
being in a heavy metal band like working a shift
at a manufacturing plant. They weren't trying
to be rock stars in the glam sense at all. They
were just trying to outwork literally everyone
else on the circuit. So let's clock in then.
We have to start at the very beginning. The year
is 2003. We're in Canton, Michigan. Set the scene
for us. What's the vibe there? So Canton is a
suburb of Detroit. And Detroit, musically speaking,
has a very specific, very storied history. It's
got that Motown soul, obviously, but it's also
got this grimy, aggressive rock history. Like
Alice Cooper. Exactly. Alice Cooper, the Stooges,
MC5, the environment is cold, it's industrial.
And in 2003, two high schoolers, Tony Asta and
Huron Duron -Yagla, decide to start a band. And
these are the neighbors we were talking about.
Best friends, neighbors. They were attending
Salem High School together in Canton. And this
is vital to remember because throughout the chaotic
20 year history we're about to unravel, Tony
and Heron are the constants. The anchors. They
are the absolute anchors of Battlecross. OK,
so they start in 2003. But looking at this timeline,
they don't really break out nationally until
2011. Right. That is a massive gap. Eight years?
I mean, most bands would have definitely quit
after three years of playing empty rooms. What
were they doing for eight years? They were grinding.
This is that blue -collar aspect really showing
up. Between 2003 and 2010, they were hitting
the local Midwest circuit so hard, they slowly
solidified a lineup. Who'd they bring in? They
brought in a vocalist named Marshall Wood in
2006, a drummer named Mike Krager in 2007, and
Don Slater on bass in 2008. And with that core...
They just played. And when you say played, we're
not talking about headlining arenas yet. Oh,
far from it. They were the classic local opener.
So imagine a big national act is touring through
the Midwest. They need a local band to open the
show, warm up the crowd, and maybe sell some
tickets to their friends. Right. That was Battlecross.
They opened for major heavy hitters like Devil
Driver, Dying Fetus, and Gwar. OK, pause. We
have to talk about Gwar. Because for the listener
who might not know, opening for GWAR is not a
normal gig. No, it is absolutely not. GWAR is
a highly theatrical shock rock band. The musicians
are dressed as these giant barbarian interplanetary
warriors. And they scray the audience, right?
Yes. They spray the audience with fake blood
and various other fluids from actual fire hoses.
So if you're a serious no -nonsense thrash metal
band trying to just stand there and play your
highly technical riffs and you're opening for
that. It is a trial by fire. The audience is
there to get covered in fake blood. They are
not there to analyze your dual guitar harmonies.
Yeah, that makes sense. But if you can win over
a gore crowd or a super intense dying fetus crowd,
you learn stagecraft incredibly fast. You learn
exactly how to command a room. So they spend
eight years in the trenches. They're technically
proficient. They're tight as a band. 2010 rolls
around and it looks like the break is finally
happening for them. They self release an album
called Push Pull Destroy. And that record catches
the eye of Metal Blade Records. Which is huge,
right? Legendary. Metal Blade is the label that
launched Metallica back in the day. It's the
home of Cannibal Corpse, Amina Marth. Getting
signed to Metal Blade Records is basically the
metal equivalent of getting drafted into the
NFL. So they're drafted, they are ready to go,
the dream is happening, and then the singer quits.
It is the absolute nightmare scenario. Right
as they are preparing to properly re -release
their debut album on this major label, Marshall
Wood, their vocalist, has to step away. Why?
Was it creative differences and ego clash? No.
And I think that's what makes the story so grounded.
It was family obligations, just real life happening.
He was getting married. He had a wedding to pay
for. And his life was simply moving in a different
direction. That is heartbreaking, actually. You
worked for seven years for the shot. And when
it finally arrived, you can't take it. Yeah.
So the band is scrambling. They have this record
deal on the table. Who do they call? They looked
at their management roster, and they found a
guy from the Flint area, which is another really
tough working class Michigan town, named and
Kyle Gunther. But everyone calls him Gumby. Everyone
calls him Gumby. He was formerly in a band called
I Decay. Gumby. I love it. So Gumby steps in.
But looking at the notes, this wasn't just a
karaoke situation, right? He didn't just come
in and sing Marshall's lyrics over the tracks.
No. And this is where the band's identity really
solidified into something special. Gumby had
to rerecord the vocals for the album, which they
ultimately renamed Pursuit of Honor. Right. But
he felt he couldn't sing songs he didn't write
with any real conviction. So he rewrote them.
There's a specific story in the source material
about a track that was originally called Aidan.
Yes, the original track was called Aidan. When
Gumby stepped in, he completely rewrote the lyrics
to that song and renamed it Caleb. Caleb being
his son. His newborn son. Wow. That is a massive
move. You're the new guy. You walk into a band
of childhood friends who have been doing this
for almost a decade and you say, I'm going to
change your songs and make them about my kid.
It's risky, very risky, but it brought a level
of ferocity and authenticity to the vocal performance
that you just cannot fake. Yeah, I bet. When
you hear him screaming on that record, he's not
singing about fantasy tropes or dragons or demons.
He is singing about his own flesh and blood.
And when Pursuit of Honor dropped in August of
2011, that raw energy connected instantly with
the audience. Let's talk about that reaction
because looking at the chart data in the logs,
they didn't just do OK for a debut. They crushed
it. They completely dominated satellite radio.
SiriusXM has a dedicated heavy metal channel
called Liquid Metal. For the modern metal scene,
especially at that time, that is the radio station.
It's the gatekeeper. Exactly. If you're getting
played on liquid metal, you exist. If you're
not, you don't. They were on it. They were everywhere
on it. The single Push Pull Destroy spent five
weeks at number one on Liquid Metal's Devil's
Dozen Countdown. Five weeks at number one. And
overall, between three different singles from
that album, they spent 50 weeks on that chart.
That is basically an entire year of being in
heavy rotation. OK, so for the listener who isn't
necessarily a massive metalhead, can you explain
the sound? The critics were throwing around some
really heavy comparisons. I saw Pantera and Lamb
of God mentioned a lot in the reviews. Sure,
so Think about the history of American metal.
In the 80s, you had the big four of thrash, Metallica,
Slayer, Megadeth, Anthrax. Fast, aggressive.
Very fast. Intricate riffing. Then jumping to
the 2000s, you had the new wave of American heavy
metal, bands like Lamb of God and Killswitch
Engage. They introduced a lot more groove and
modern production techniques. And where did Battlecross
fit in? They sat right in the middle. Critics
praised them because they were fast and technical,
like the 80s thrash bands. lots of guitar solos,
high -speed drumming. But they had that heavy
rhythmic bounce that Pantera made famous. So
it was traditional, but it avoided being just
a retro throwback. Exactly. Critics explicitly
noted that they avoided the retro wannabe trap.
It was blue collar because it wasn't trying to
be overly artsy or avant -garde. It was meat
and potatoes metal, executed perfectly. I saw
a review in the notes from Valkyrian Music that
actually said they could replace the Big Four
if they kept it up. That feels like a tremendous
amount of pressure for a debut album. It's hyperbole,
sure, but it shows how hungry people were for
that specific energetic sound. It was nostalgic,
but it felt completely fresh. So they survived
the singer swap. They have a massive hit debut.
Now they face the classic sophomore slump. You
know, the old industry saying you have your whole
life to write your first album and six months
to write your second. And the pressure was definitely
on. But in 2013, they released War of Will. Else,
get them. Significantly, they brought in Ayo
Levi to produce. I know that name. He's the guy
behind records for the Black Dahlia Murder and
Trivium, right? Correct. He's an absolute wizard
at making metal sound clean, but incredibly heavy.
And for the mastering process, they got Joey
Vera from Armored Saint. Oh, wow. Yeah, this
is real metal royalty working on this album.
Speaking of royalty, on War of Will, they made
a very bold choice. They covered a Pantera song.
Fucking hostile. Which is hallowed ground in
the metal community. Right. You don't just cover
Pantera. That is like a pop star trying to cover
Whitney Houston. If you miss, you miss huge.
And the fans will tear you apart. But Battlecross
nailed it. Covering that song really cemented
that groove thrash reputation. They weren't running
from the Pantera comparisons. They were fully
owning them. So 2013 is looking like the absolute
peak. They're touring relentlessly. Another year.
Another tour with In Flames and Demon Hunter.
They play the rock star energy drink Mayhem Festival
in July. Which, again, just for context, Mayhem
Fest was a massive traveling circus. It was the
biggest metal tour in America at the time. You
are playing in asphalt parking lots and amphitheaters
in the middle of summer, 100 degree heat to thousands
of kids. Sounds exhausting. It is grueling, but
it is... The place to be seen if you want to
make it. They also played Orion music plus more
that year. Which was Metallica's own curated
festival. So just imagine this trajectory for
a second. Two years prior, they were playing
local bars in Canton. Now they are at Metallica's
festival. It sounds like the perfect unstoppable
rise. But looking at the timeline. While the
guitar players and the singer were locked in,
there was something strange happening behind
the drum kit. Ah, yes, the drummer curse. It
feels a little bit like spinal tap, doesn't it?
Like, sadly, our drummer exploded. Fortunately,
no one physically exploded in Battlecross. But
from an organizational standpoint, it was absolute
k -doss. And I think this is where we really
see that blue -collar resilience tested to its
absolute limit. Break it down for us. Why is
the drummer seat so volatile in a band like this?
Is it just bad luck? Well, think about the economics
of it. We talked about this earlier. In a mid
-level metal band, you are splitting a very modest
paycheck five ways. But the drummer, the drummer
has the most gear to physically haul every night.
The drummer is doing the most physical work on
stage. Playing high -speed thrash metal for 60
minutes straight is like running a marathon while
doing math. Top tier drummers are rare. So if
a bigger band with a bigger tour bus and a bigger
paycheck comes calling, it is very hard for a
drummer to say no. So who do they lose? Let's
go through the roster. Well, Mike Krieger, the
original guy who joined back in 2007, he leaves
in 2013 for personal business. That is the first
domino to fall. OK, so you need a sub immediately
for the biggest festivals of your entire career.
Right. So they call Kevin Talley. He is a heavy
-hitting mercenary in the metal world. He's played
for Six Feet Under, Chimera. Big names. Very
big. He steps in, does the job for Mayhem Fest
and Orion, and then he leaves. Next up. Adam
Pearce steps in. He comes over from a band called
All Shall Perish. He does the fall 2013 tour.
Then he leaves. I'm getting dizzy just tracking
this. It actually gets more complicated. On the
album War of Will, the drums were recorded by
Shannon Lucas, the former drummer for The Black
Dahlia Murder. He recorded the album as a session
player, then he decided to join the band officially
in 2014, and then he quit after one tour. Oh
my god, just imagine being Tony inherent. You
rate these songs, you've been doing this since
you were teenagers, and you cannot keep a guy
on the drums duel to save your life. It completely
destroys a band's chemistry. You have to reteach
the entire set list every three months. You have
to learn how the new guy plays. Does he rush
the tempo? Does he drag? Do we lock in together?
It is mentally and physically exhausting. Who
finally stuck around? Well, they brought in Alex
Bent for a bit in 2014. He is a monster player,
and he completed their first real headlining
tour with them, but he left in 2015. Finally,
later in 2015, they found Brian Zink, and he
actually stayed until the end. Plus Brian Zink.
Truly. But think about that timeline. That is
five or six different percussionists in the span
of just two years, right during their most critical
growth period. And yet they somehow released
a third album, Rise to Power, in 2015. And it
was a fantastic album. It featured the single,
Not Your Slave. They managed to keep the quality
incredibly high despite the revolving door in
the rhythm section. And this era... Right around
2014 and 2015, looking at the logs, this is where
they went truly global. Yes. This is where the
work ethic really paid off internationally. Yeah,
I see the download festival in the UK on here.
Donington Park. That is the holy land of heavy
metal. If you are playing download, you have
officially made it on the global stage. And they
went south, too. Mexico City. They played their
first concert in Mexico City in 2014 supporting
Black Label Society. Then they did a massive
South American tour supporting Killswitch Engage
and Memphis Mayfire. I just want to pause and
appreciate that image for the listener. You are
from Canton, Michigan. You grew up watching the
snow turn to gray slush in the winter. And now
you are standing on a stage in Mexico City or
South America, thousands of miles from home.
And thousands of people know the words to the
songs you wrote in a garage. That is the peak.
That represents the absolute payoff for those
12 years of relentless grinding. But as we know
with the music industry, gravity kicks in eventually.
We get to 2016. And the touring logs just start
to thin out. They do. They went out on a really
solid tour with Soilwork and Soulfly in 2016.
But after that, the updates just became sporadic.
The momentum slowed. In 2019, they posted an
update indicating they were working on new material.
The classic, we're in the studio, don't worry
post. Right. It keeps the fans engaged. But we
never actually heard that material. And then,
obviously, 2020 happens. The global pandemic
completely shut down the entire live touring
industry. And for a band that entirely relies
on the road to pay the bills? Yeah. That is a
death blow. Absolutely. So there's basically
silence for two years. And then we get to December
2022. The Battle Christmas Show on December 9th,
2022. What was Battle Christmas? They used to
do this annual hometown holiday show in Michigan
for their local fans. It was a tradition. But
this time, the announcement had a very different
tone to it. They explicitly announced that this
would be their last show for the foreseeable
future. Marking the start of an indefinite hiatus.
Exactly. It wasn't an explosive breakup. No one
threw a chair at anyone. No one sued anyone.
They just stopped. And look who was standing
on stage for that final show. Tony Asta, Hiran
Durrani Aghla, Don Slater, Gumby, and Brian Zink.
the core friends, and the drummer who finally
stayed. They finished the incredible run together.
So let's unpack the why. Because reading this,
it's natural to wonder, why stop? They were popular.
They were tight. They had a really dedicated
fan base. I think we have to go right back to
the blue collar concept. Being a mid -level metal
band is phenomenally expensive. You aren't flying
on private jets. You are sleeping in a van. You
are missing birthdays. You are missing anniversaries.
You are missing your kids growing up. Right.
Gumby's son, Caleb, the one he wrote that song
about on the first record. Exactly. He is growing
up while his dad is out on the road nine months
out of the year. and eventually the math just
doesn't work anymore. It doesn't. When you are
22 years old, sleeping in a van is a fun adventure.
When you are 35 or 40, it is a massive liability.
The modern music industry simply does not support
the middle class of musicians very well. You
are either mega famous or you are losing money
to go on tour. Battlecross fought that gravity
for 20 years, which is heroic, but eventually
real life wins out. That is a deeply sobering
thought. It really is. So as we wrap up this
deep dive into the source material, here is the
big takeaway for me. We started with a couple
of high school kids in the Detroit suburbs. We
ended with a legacy of three killer studio albums,
world tours, and a rock solid reputation as one
of the hardest working bands in the modern metal
scene. They absolutely proved that being Blue
Collar wasn't just a marketing gimmick. It was
quite literally the only way they knew how to
operate. They bridged the new wave of American
heavy metal into the modern era using relentless
touring and radio support rather than just relying
on viral social media fame. But here is the provocative
thought I want to leave you with, listener. And
it is kind of a heavy one to ponder. In an industry
that relies so heavily on consistent touring
and stable lineups, how much potential music
is lost simply because life gets in the way?
That's the real question. Right. Was the hiatus
inevitable for a blue -collar band? How many
incredible albums are we never going to hear
simply because the artists couldn't afford to
keep the lights on? That is the tragedy of the
business model. Battlecross didn't run out of
riffs, they just ran out of runway. But hey,
they did say indefinite, right? Not forever.
The door is always a little bit open in the metal
world. We will keep our hopes up for a return.
Thanks for exploring this deep dive with us.
See you next time.