Flattbush revisited

Our policy is that we don't post our articles on the GR website. But I'm breaking that rule now because I want you to get amped about the upcoming GR rock show that's going to take place in San Diego on the Saturday of Comic-Con weekend. Ladies and gentlemen, I present a shortened version of the Flattbush interview from GR45 (January - February, 2007)...


Some music isn’t made with the intention of becoming famous, getting rich, or fetching dates; it’s made and played because an individual or group wants to change the world. The latter category is where you’ll find the politically fueled metal of Flattbush, whose screaming Pinoy-centric lyrics address social injustice, class struggle, and the historic plight of the Filipino and working-class people.

The Long Beach, CA-based band’s songs are as complex as its topics, with shifting tempos, chaotic riffs, and furious blast beats. Their 2003 debut, Smash the Octopus, and latest offering, Seize the Time!, are powerful in every way, and onstage, the blue-collar group is a true force of nature. If Flattbush doesn’t get your complacent, cake-eating ass off the sofa, nothing will. I met the founding members, brothers Riko and Arman Maniago (lead vocals and bass, respectively) and Bradley Walther (guitar) as well as the newest drummer, Joe Luevano, at their rehearsal studio.


GR: There are a lot of bands that sing about being pissed off, but not many take the step of directing their anger toward the government or the system.
RM: A lot of working Americans hate their neighbors and are pissed off at everything, but they don’t have direction and they don’t know who the enemy is. They’re oppressed, but they don’t know who to throw a shoe at. They think, “Who the fuck am I going to hit?” What’s cool about Karl Marx and revolutionaries is that they give leadership and guidance. The oppressor is not your boss; it’s the few, the exploiting class.
AM: And the CIA and FBI did a good job at neutralizing the leaders in the ’60s. The Black Panthers took care of the ghettos, but who takes care of the ghettos now?

GR: So where are the political bands?
RM: A lot of bands are enraged about this and that. A couple years ago Green Day was doing something, and Incubus was doing some political stuff. That’s good. Full-time activists talk shit, but at least those bands are stepping it up, and you have to give them credit.

GR: Is Flattbush akin to Green Day, Incubus, and huge stars like that? Or are they in a different world?
RM: Green Day and Incubus are good musicians, and I respect their anti-Bush efforts. They’re not sell-outs who just sing about it; they can lift the morale of the oppressed with their music. You don’t have to carry guns to be revolutionary.

GR: When I was a kid, the foundation for my politics was formed by bands like The Clash.
RM: People compare us to the Dead Kennedys, and I don’t even have one of their albums! People say, “How come rock always complains about the same shit?” It’s because nothing has changed.


GR: Do you feel kinship to Filipino party bands that just play R&B covers? Aren’t they kind of wack?
AM: Doesn’t that suck?
RM: I thought it was just me! I don’t want to talk shit because we want to unite with them, but they should at least do something to help people instead of showing people what type of cars they have.
AM: In Los Angeles, there’s a scene of Filipino bands, and sometimes they throw events. There’ll be indie pop and screamo and whatever. Once, we were invited to do our thing. They get out of the Philippines, see us wearing Mao caps, and think, “Should we be doing this?” We’re not being rude or anything, but that’s how we serve our food. To them, we’re crazy.
BW: Yeah, at Asian events they’re dressed nice in Sunday clothes.
RM: And we’re thinking, “What the fuck are we doing?”

GR: You guys probably feel just as uncomfortable playing to dudes in shiny shirts and girls in heels and makeup!
AM: They don’t invite us very often. They just do it because we’re the only Filipino band that has survived.
RM: They don’t have a choice! Then they think, “They still sound horrible!”
AM: I text messaged one of those promoters and invited him to a show, just to give him thanks and put him on the guest list. He texted back, “Fuck, I don’t support commies!” I think he was just joking, but it’s serious shit. In the Philippines, if you’re a revolutionary, activism supporter, or even a sympathizer, you are considered a terrorist. They don’t want to be part of that.
RM: We can’t even play there. I get updates from friends who get tortured. Priests who support certain organizations are killed. If we go there, we will die. They will throw a grenade and we won’t even know it because the music is so loud!

GR: Joe, as a non-Filipino, how do you feel about all this?
JL: My parents were both born in Mexico. They’ve gone through a lot of shit to come here, and they are still going through shit, so I can relate to the struggle.

GR: Do you two understand the songs sung in Tagalog and Kapampangan?
JL: We ask for translations when we’re working on the songs.
BW: I’ve picked up a few Tagalog words.
RM: I don’t even know what I’m saying!

GR: I don’t know all the lyrics, but some of your songs remind me of the Mexican death-metal band, Brujeria, whose songs are all in Spanish.
AM: When I picked up the first Brujeria album, Matan Gueros, I didn’t know Spanish, but I knew it meant “killing white people,” and there was a severed head on the cover. I thought, “This is me. This is the shit!” And when I played it, the four-track recording was cheap, fucked up, third-world shit. I could relate to that.
RM: At school, I’d get criticized for my accent, but here was this band that got signed to a label. That meant something to me.
AM: Brujeria’s recording was so shitty, but it was our reference. We thought, “Fuck! If we sound like Brujeria, we’re on the right track. Our standards were not high because we could not afford expensive production.

GR: Having soul is more important.
AM: It has nerve. There are a lot of bands out there that play and record really complex stuff. Dillinger Escape Plan plays good, technical shit, but it doesn’t affect me physically or emotionally. And then I can watch a band like Sin Remedio--yelling at each other for fucking up all the time--because I feel their attitude.


GR: When you play with a more traditional metal band, how do audiences react to Riko’s rice-picker hat or Arman’s Mao cap and the hammer-and-sickle sticker on his guitar?
RM: They don’t have to say anything. We can read their body language.
JL: At Death Angel, there were guys holding up their middle fingers the whole time and yelling, “Fucking commies!”
AM: I think it’s a compliment. We make them think and piss them off. That’s what rock is--not people dancing and eating nachos.
RM: It’s like, what’s your favorite food?

GR: Noodles.
RM: Let’s say you’re eating ramen; it’s the best shit ever and you don’t even have to think about it. If someone gives you a different platter, you’ll think, “What the fuck is this?” and talk shit about it. But it made you think, and you’ll tell your friends, “I just had the worst food!” If we make people think, then we did our job.

We have day jobs, pay our credit-card bills, and drive long-ass hours to work. If you’re working today, you’re already thinking about tomorrow’s work. If you make someone think about that--even if it pisses them off--they’ll catch up. In ten years, they’ll think, “I’m a revolutionary. Fuck, I should have listened to those guys ten years ago!”
AM: When people lose their houses, they will get fed up.
RM: People were scared by Satan in the ’80s, but that’s old. They should be afraid of Marx! That’s real revolutionary shit.
BW: Well, Marx is real. Satan is a fictional character.

GR: Do you ever get bummed that people talk about your politics but don’t even mention your musicianship?
BW: It is a bummer, but we know that it’s a story that has to be told.