“It was an extremely difficult album to make. Melana Chasmata (Century Media) is a much more personal, sombre and intimate album than our debut. Several drastic changes in our private lives all happened during its conception.” Thomas Gabriel Fischer is a polite and charming gentleman with no air of pretention. Countless musicians have waxed lyrical on their personal demons, yet when Thomas does so; it is with disarming sincerity and conviction.
“Why sit in front of a microphone if you are not prepared to be honest? I despise these rehearsed statements musicians come out with to sell an album. I want to know what musicians’ real feelings are!” Sitting across from the fifty-one year old, it is apparent that while a veteran of the extreme music scene, Fischer is not one for catchy sound bites or overblown hyperbole. Remaining charming yet utterly focussed, there is never a sense that Fischer is putting on an act even when he makes dramatic statements which have your head spinning. “Extreme music is drawn from these emotions. I have chosen a radical life but that has shaped my music. Celtic Frost was my life’s work and it was very painful to walk away from that but making this music is so cathartic.”
Fischer’s well documented early life paints the picture of the alienated youngster growing up in rural Switzerland, a child of divorce whose mother was forced to smuggle diamonds and watches to help support them, often leaving the six year old alone for weeks on end with the radio for company. Fischer has received criticism in some quarters for his candid accounts of a traumatic and difficult childhood but no one can deny that in the days of Hellhammer and Celtic Frost, any opportunities afforded to him were made with blood and sweat. “In the beginning we perceived it as a disadvantage. The American Thrash bands got to hew their craft playing endless club shows and as a result were far more polished than European acts, ourselves included! Ultimately it was character building. I see with hindsight that it forced us to be more original. For lack of an example it forced us to be ourselves.”
Highly introspective and self-critical, Fischer delivers each reply with unwavering conviction. Even when discussing his own music, the front man is highly self-analytical pulling no punches when it comes to his art. “What good would it do to pretend everything I have done is fantastic? Cold Lake was an abomination which everyone can see. I am not blind to that. I can make grave mistakes like everyone else, but it is pointless to lament on why you did things this way but essential to rigorously analyse yourself and implement much higher standard of quality. Cold Lake changed my approach completely after that because I knew what a terrible mistake it was for myself and Celtic Frost. I think Melana Chasmata is good but I think a more traditional production suits our sound better. I am not stuck in the past but I think the production values of the seventies are still very valid. The drums should be allowed to breathe more. It is a bit of a compromise because the rest of my band are from a different generation than I am. I think the next time we will use a different studio.”
In spite of such brutal honesty, Fischer described the creative environment in Triptykon as “An extremely friendly, relaxed and warm atmosphere.” Such positivity is not reflected in the haunting melodies of ‘Bolskine House’ or the crushing ‘Altar Of Deceit’ yet as Tom explains, the darkness came from a more private place this time. “The drama occurs when you write the lyrics. It is far more difficult when I am working alone. When the band works on it we are very relaxed. Unlike Celtic Frost it is not a circle of enemies, but of friends. We can easily translate between our heavier songs and the more melodic stuff.”
Such an atmosphere has clearly reinvigorated Tom as a musician. When bassist Vanja Slajh comes into the room during the interview, the two exchange warm smiles and are clearly at ease with each other. A far cry from the tension and angst felt in the last days of Celtic Frost as seen in the A Dying God… documentary which saw much group in-fighting. Steadfastly kicking against all opposition for over thirty years, the man known as Tom G. Warrior has gained the status of “elder statesman” and even “icon”. Humble and softly spoken despite being incredibly intense, Tom is quick to rebuff such assertions. “It surprises me. It feels fantastic because Hellhammer and Celtic Frost were ridiculed in the early days, so it feels great when people talk about those bands as being influential now. It is very strange however because I don’t see myself like that. There was a time when Martin Ain and I were fuelled by testosterone and began to believe our own hype back in 1987. As I got older I have eliminated that and appreciate this more.”
WORDS BY ROSS BAKER