Imagine for a second being the undisputed king
of a really heavy, aggressive, notoriously gate
-kept punk rock scene. Right. The kind of scene
where fans literally bleed for you in the mosh
pit. Exactly. Your albums define the entire genre
for a whole generation of kids. You have climbed
to the absolute summit of this very specific,
very jagged mountain. Yeah. You've made it. You've
made it. And your next move. Yeah. You put down
the guitar, you fire everyone, and you release
a polished gothic synth pop record. Oh, wow.
Yeah, which on paper, I mean, that sounds like
absolute career suicide. It really does. But
today we are looking at a man who committed that
supposed career suicide. only to build this absolute
multimedia empire right from the ashes. It really
is the ultimate creative dilemma, isn't it? There
is this massive, almost gravity -like tension
between giving an audience exactly what they've
been trained to expect and giving yourself what
you actually need to survive as a growing artist.
Right, because most people just choose safety.
Oh, absolutely. They find a formula that pays
the rent and they just allow themselves to get
boxed in by their own success. Exactly. But today
we're talking about someone who looked at that
box, set it on fire and then built a totally
new house out of the charcoal. I love that. Welcome
to the deep dive. Our source material today is
a comprehensive Wikipedia article chronicling
the career of William Roy Francis, better known
to a lot of you listening as Will Francis or
by his alter ego. William controlled. He is an
American musician, author and producer. And I
have to say his trajectory is just nothing short
of wild. It really is. And just to set our mission
for this deep dive real quick, we are not here
to just read you a chronological biography. Well,
you can just go to the internet for that. Exactly.
We are using these sources to explore the actual
mechanics of creative reinvention. We're looking
at transmedia world building. Really ambitious
stuff. Yeah. And what it actually takes to execute
an absolute refusal to let yourself be confined
to a single genre or a single medium or even
a single identity. to really set the stage for
you, there is this incredible quote from the
sources that perfectly captures his gravity early
on. Oh, the magazine quote. Yeah. In May 2009,
the iconic rock magazine Kerrang called Francis,
quote, one of the most enigmatic and talismanic
frontmen in rock music today. Enigmatic and talismanic.
I mean, those are incredibly heavy words for
a rock magazine to just throw around. They really
are. When a publication like Kerrang calls you
talismanic, they aren't just saying you have,
like, good vocal range. Right, or good stage
presence. Yeah, they are implying a kind of magical,
almost spiritual pull on an audience. They're
essentially saying, you're a cult leader. Wow,
yeah. You aren't just singing songs. You are
the emotional anchor for your audience. Your
fan base isn't just listening to the music. They
are looking to you for a sense of identity. OK,
let's unpack this. Because his entry into that
intense leadership role is one of the most unconventional
origin stories I've ever come across. It's definitely
not the usual path. Not at all. Let's rewind
the tape to 2003. Francis joins this band called
Aidan. Now, if you aren't familiar with Aiden,
they're playing melodic, hardcore, horror punk,
screamo. Really intense, gritty, visceral stuff.
Sweaty music. But here is the kicker. Francis
doesn't join the talismanic front man. Nope.
He joins as the bass player. Right, which is
traditionally a rhythm section role. If you know
band dynamics, the bass player is usually holding
down the groove. Yeah, bridging the drums and
the guitars. Exactly. And typically, standing
slightly out of the direct spotlight, you are
the foundation, you are not the hood ornament.
But he did not stay in the background for long.
Later that exact same year, still in 2003, mind
you, he completely pivots. He makes a huge move.
The source is known he steps up and replaces
Steve Clemens as the lead vocalist. And I was
reading this and just like trying to wrap my
head around the social dynamics of that. It's
hard to imagine, right? It is. It's not just
like an understudy stepping in for a night. It's
more like a corporate hostile takeover from within
the mailroom. Or a parasite rewriting the host's
DNA. Yes, because he steps up to the mic and
over the next few years he doesn't just sing
the old songs, he completely rewrites the band's
identity. What's fascinating here is the sheer
force of will that requires. Think about the
fragile ecosystem of egos and creative ideas
inside literally any band. Oh, they are notoriously
dramatic. Super dramatic. So to join an existing
group in 2003 and seamlessly subsume its entire
creative direction, it just takes a staggering
amount of vision. And persuasion, honestly. Yeah,
definitely persuasion. The sources are very clear
on this. He became the sole creative force behind
Aidan's entire set. We're talking about writing
the music and the lyrics for foundational albums
in that scene. Like Nightmare Anatomy in 2005.
Right. And Conviction in 2007. He drove that
ship entirely. And he drove it all the way to
the bitter end, too. He really did. By the time
Aidan released their final self -titled album
in 2015, Francis was the absolute last man standing.
Which is wild. He was the only original member
remaining from that 2003 lineup. Everyone else
had turned over. Which tells us so much about
the uncompromising nature of his artistic vision.
How do you mean? Well, in the music industry,
a lot of bands just break up when key members
leave. The compromise of finding a new middle
ground with new members becomes too difficult.
Yeah, the magic is just gone. Right. But for
Francis, the departure of other members didn't
dilute the band's identity at all. It actually
concentrated it. It became entirely his vehicle.
Exactly. He proved early on that he possessed
the leadership. And frankly, the audacity to
carry an entire brand on his own shoulders without
needing a democratic process to approve his ideas.
Not at all. It's an incredible level of dominance
in that specific hardcore scene. But here's where
it gets really interesting. OK, lay it on me.
Usually when someone takes total control of a
band like Aiden and they achieve that level of
global success, they ride that specific way forever.
Right, they found their golden goose. They own
the rights, they know the formula, and they just
keep pressing the button. But Francis did something
that completely defies standard industry logic.
He took a massive left turn. A huge one. While
Aiden was still a fully functioning touring entity,
he pivoted to a completely different sonic universe.
He birthed this alter ego project called William
Control. And we really need to emphasize that
this wasn't just like a side project that sounded
like acoustic A and B sides. Oh no, not at all.
This was a radical, jarring departure from everything
he had built his reputation on. Radical is putting
it mildly. The sources show he went from screaming
guitars, live drum kits, and post -hardcore aggression
to synthesizer -driven dark wave, synth pop,
and electronica. A total genre flip. Completely.
He releases full studio albums under this new
moniker. Hate Culture in 2008, Noir in 2010,
The Neuromancer in 2014. All very different from
horror punk. So I have to push back a little
here because I am genuinely stuck on the mechanics
of this pivot. What's tripping you up? Well,
how does a fan base reacting to gritty, sweaty
horror punk accept a sudden left turn into highly
polished electronic synth pop? It's a huge jump.
Isn't that an incredible risk? I mean, if I go
to my favorite steakhouse and they serve me a
beautifully plated tofu burger, the aesthetic
might be similar, but I'm still asking for a
refund. Right, you want the steak. Exactly. How
did he convince the mosh pit to eat the tofu?
It is a massive risk, and your statehouse analogy
is exactly why most artists fail when they try
this. Because they alienate everyone. Yes. You
are essentially asking an audience built on physical
aggression and guitar distortion to suddenly
appreciate atmospheric icy electronic music.
Which is a tough sell. A very tough sell. But
the reason it works, and this is crucial for
you as a listener to understand if you ever need
to pull off a major pivot in your own career
or life, is the emotional through line. The emotional
through line. Yes. Francis evolved the gothic
aesthetic. The instruments completely changed.
Yes. Right. Distorted guitars swapped for synthesizers.
Exactly. but the dark theatrical brooding essence
remained entirely intact. Ah, OK. I see. So he
changed the vocabulary, but he was still speaking
the exact same emotional language. Precisely.
He understood a fundamental truth about his audience.
His fans weren't just connected to the literal
sound of a distorted guitar. Right. They were
connected to the atmosphere of despair, romance,
and theatricality that he was creating. That
makes a lot of sense. As William Control, he
proved that dark wave synth pop could carry the
exact same emotional weight as Screamo. He just
traded the sweaty basement venue for an underground
neon -lit gothic nightclub. And the broader entertainment
industry actually validated this pivot, didn't
they? They absolutely did. Because of this refined,
dark aesthetic, his William Control tracks ended
up on major Hollywood movie soundtracks. Yes.
the Underworld film franchise. Which is huge.
Looking at the timeline here, he had the song
Death Club on the Underworld, Rise of the Lycans
soundtrack in 2009, and then the posthumous letter
on the Underworld Awakening soundtrack in 2012.
Which, when you think about it, is just the perfect
cinematic pairing. It really is. Vampires, werewolves,
slick black leather, and the pulsing darkwave
sound of William Control. It is a match made
in gothic heaven. But what's truly wild about
this era of his career is the duality of it all.
Well, while he's building this highly polished
electronic world for Hollywood soundtracks, he
is simultaneously keeping one foot firmly planted
in his aggressive roots. Oh, through the collaboration.
Yes, a vast network of collaboration. Right.
I was looking at these dates in the source material
and my head was just spinning. It's a lot to
keep track of. It is. While he's doing William
control, he is going out and providing screaming
live vocals for post -hardcore heavyweights.
He's on Silverstein's live compilation in 2006.
Right. He's performing live with the used at
the Taste of Chaos tour in 2007. Which was a
massive tour. Huge. He even plays a character
literally called the voice of F -E -A -R on Black
Veil Bride's 2013 concept album, Wretched and
Divine. It's incredible. How does a vocalist
physically and mentally switch gears like that?
Screaming his lungs out. on an arena tour one
night and meticulously programming since the
next. It speaks to an incredible compartmentalization
of his creative drive. Yeah, that's a good way
to put it. But it also shows that he absolutely
refuses to be limited by genre boundaries. He
treats these different musical styles just like
different tools in a toolbox. Which is so rare.
Very rare. But where his ingenuity really shines
is how he adapted his release strategy for the
William Control Project. Oh, the EPs. Let's look
at his fifth studio album, Revelations. This
part of the source material blew my mind. Because
instead of doing what literally every other artist
does... Dropping one massive 12 -track album.
Exactly. Dropping it, touring it, and hoping
people pay attention for a month. Instead of
that, he split Revelations into four distinct
EPs. A really smart move. He released the Pale
EP in October 2016, the Black EP in February
2017, the Red EP in July 2017, and finally, the
White EP in November 2017. This is a masterclass
in adapting to the psychology of the modern listener.
How so? Well, we are living in an era of absolute
information overload. Attention spans are completely
fractured, and the algorithm demands constant
relentless content. If you release one album
every two years, you disappear from the public
consciousness for 23 months. You're yesterday's
news by the following Tuesday. Exactly. By breaking
a full conceptual album into four thematic EPs
released over a 13 -month period, he essentially
engineered a perpetual hype cycle. It's brilliant.
He was giving his audience bite -sized, digestible
pieces of art. It kept them constantly engaged
and constantly looking forward to the next chapter.
And it kept his name in the music press. Right.
It kept the tours fresh. It's just a highly intelligent
business adaptation to how we consume media today.
But even with all of this going on, I mean, think
about it. Fronting Aiden, launching William Control,
landing the underworld soundtracks, screaming
for the used, and hacking the modern release
cycle with the four EPs. It's exhausting just
listing it. It really is. But music still wasn't
a large enough container for his ideas. No, it
wasn't. The lyrics and the melodies couldn't
hold the weight of the concepts he was building.
And this brings us to a massive transition. in
the source material. His expansion into literature
and business. Right. He doesn't just change lanes
here. He starts spilling completely off the page.
If we connect this to the bigger picture, this
is the exact moment where Francis transitions
from being a musician to becoming a true multimedia
architect. An architect. I like that. Because
it's not enough to just make the art anymore.
Eventually, if you want to protect your vision
from executives who don't understand it, you
have to own the infrastructure. Which he did.
Yes. He moved from being a signed artist to a
business owner by forming his own independent
record label, Control Records. And he didn't
just use it for himself. No, he stepped into
the producer's chair to curate a scene for other
bands. The sources mentioned he produced acts
like Fearless Vampire Killers, specifically their
album Unbreakable Hearts. Crape record. And he
produced multiple records for the English electro
goth punk band Ashes to Angels. which is a massive
time commitment. He's producing, he's writing
a label. I was reading this section of the wiki
and just marveling at the sheer bandwidth. It's
hard to fathom. Genuinely, how does one human
being front two drastically different bands,
produce records for other artists, and run the
daily operations of an indie label? And wait,
we haven't even mentioned the books yet. I know,
I haven't even mentioned the books. The literary
career is where the concept of world building
really crystallizes into something extraordinary.
It's a massive undertaking. First, he tests the
waters by co -writing poetry. There's Flowers
and Filth in 2009 with Lisa Johnson, and Pros
Plus Poems in 2011. Right, dipping his toes in.
But then, he embarks on writing a full -length
novel trilogy, The Revelator Books. Which is
a whole different beast. Completely. Writing
a three -minute punk song is one thing. But sitting
down in isolation to write three novels requires
a completely different kind of psychological
discipline. Oh, absolutely. And the titles of
these books are the exact key to understanding
his entire artistic ecosystem. Yes. I want you
to pay very close attention to these titles if
you're listening. Book one, released in 2013,
is called The Neuromancer. Book two, released
in 2014, is The Hate Culture. Book three, in
2016, is The Hell of Heaven. Okay, now connect
the dots for us. If you've been tracking the
William Control discography we mentioned earlier,
your jaw just dropped. Because Hate Culture was
his 2008 debut album. The Neuromancer was his
2014 album. He is directly mirroring his album
titles with his novel titles. Exactly. And this
is the absolute genius of it. He isn't just writing
companion pieces here. Was he doing that? He
is constructing an entirely self -sustaining
narrative universe by tying the dense literary
narrative of his novels directly to the atmospheric
sonic landscapes of his albums. He's creating
a space where you, the listener, and the reader
can get totally consumed. Like a lifestyle brand
almost. Essentially, yes. You don't just listen
to William Control on your commute. You go home
and you read William Control before bed. You
inhabit the world. Transmedia storytelling like
this is incredibly rare for a solo musician to
pull off. It is so rare, and it was so immersive,
so cinematic, that in the spring of 2016, it
was announced that the Revelator books were slated
to be adapted into a trilogy of films. Audio
to text to visual cinema. An unbroken chain.
An unbroken chain of creative output, all stemming
from one person's refusal to be categorized.
It really is inspiring. So what does this all
mean for us? When we pull back and look at this
mountain of source material Will Francis's journey
from a 2003 replacement bassist in a sweaty punk
club to a label owning novel writing genre hopping
architect It proves something vital. What's the
takeaway? It proves that true creatives don't
wait for permission to change lanes. Right. They
don't form a focus group to ask their audience
if it's okay to put down the guitar and pick
up a synthesizer. Right. Or to put down the microphone
and pick up a pen. They just do it. They just
do it. And they trust that if the art is authentic,
the audience will follow. This raises an important
question about how we view success and artistic
integrity in the modern era. How so? Well, we
live in a world governed by algorithms, right?
Where creators are constantly told to find their
nation, stick to it, so the computer knows how
to categorize them. Yeah, the dreaded algorithm.
Francis's career is a masterclass in DIY self
-actualization. He built the label to release
the music, that soundtracked the books, that
inspired the films. He built his own ecosystem.
He built the entire house so no executive, no
algorithm, and no gatekeeper could ever lock
him out of a room. He built the house. I love
that framing. Which brings me to a final lingering
thought for you to mull over after we wrap up
this deep dive. Let's hear it. Think about the
sheer psychological distance between the guy
playing bass in the background in 2003 and the
author writing The Neuromancer a decade later.
It's a vast distance. Vast. If an artist completely
changes their medium. If they completely abandon
their original musical genre, if they cycle through
all their bandmates, if they even adopt an entirely
new name like Will Francis becoming William Control,
is it still a continuation of the same artistic
soul? Oh, that's heavy. Like the ship of Theseus,
you know. If you replace every single plank of
wood, is it still the same ship? That is the
question. Or, to reach our true ultimate potential,
do we sometimes have to completely kill off our
past selves to let the new ones be born? What
past self meant you need to leave behind right
now to unlock your next chapter? Something to
really think about. Think about that. We will
see you next time.