Cosa dicono (in inglese) di HMiB e degli Acrassicauda alcuni famosi rockers
What an awesome story. This inspires me a lot. In the world, certain cultures are the way they are, but music doesn’t care. There are no boundaries for music. It connects right here in your heart. You can’t stop it. So right on!
James Hetfield, METALLICA
When I heard there was a heavy metal band in Baghdad, I was immediately interested to find out more. I instantaneously knew it would be a death-defying act to play any kind of rock and roll music there, as rock is such a Western invention. I’d guess, as the rock gets harder-sounding, it seems all the more insulting to the traditional Iraqi sensibility and that’s what made Acrassicauda as much daredevil as inspirational. Music is my religion and I know that feeling of necessity that you get about playing music. The peace it brings to troubled minds. But, I can’t imagine the emotional endurance it’d take to risk death just to buy guitar strings.
For me, the story of Acrassicauda is such an important one because it’s one of the few Iraqi stories I’ve heard of that is truly about freedom for Iraqi people. Theirs is an unknown war, fought in the middle of another.
Music explains thoughts and feelings difficult to express in any other way and, perhaps nowadays, music’s miraculous impact is taken for granted… until you see something like this. It’ll make you put down your emo CDs faster than you would a John Tesh Groundhog’s Day album. [The Heavy Metal in Baghdad documentary] should be mandatory viewing to any band who lip syncs, pulls the status quo, or thinks it’s been awhile since they loved themselves…
Life’s hard cause it’s worth it. Don’t be a pussy.
Josh Homme, QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE
I first heard of Acrassicauda in the Spring of 2008 via the online trailer for Heavy Metal in Baghdad. I was immediately drawn in. My friend and publicist, Nettie Hartsock, who had sent me the link, connected me with associate producer Brian Orce, and we spoke by phone. It turned out that the film company Vice, was in Brooklyn, just a few neighborhoods over from where I live. A couple hours later, as promised, there was a knock at my door from a Vice intern, personally delivering an advance DVD of the film. Immediately after watching the film, I called to rave about it. I also offered to do wha tever I could to help spread the word. I’d recently experienced a re-entry into the metal world by reuniting with my band Testament, after more than ten years. Suddenly I was in the midst of metal gigs, festivals, and press junkets all over the world and had seen no awareness of a metal presence in Iraq. The world, and the metal world in particular, needed to know more about Acrssicauda and the situation in Iraq.
Any thoughts about my own “struggles” being a musician were quickly put to shame. Sure, I’ve dealt with my share of cancelled flights, lost luggage, and equipment failure. But these guys have had to deal with bombings, curfews, sniper fire, and a country under occupation and on the verge of civil war. Once escaping that environment, they’ve had to face the reality of living as refugees without a homeland and the challenges of sticking together as a band, despite attempts to relocate them individually to places where they’d be isolated from one another.
The story of Acrassicauda proves that metal crosses all borders and that music and art should be supported by governments, not just donations from caring individuals and companies. The acts of pounding the drums, thumping the bass, making the guitars scream, yelling into the mike, and being on the receiving end as a listener provide a welcome respite from daily life. This is true whether you’re a frustrated teen safe in the suburbs of the U.S., or someone facing life-threatening dangers in a country such as Iraq. The guys in Acrassicauda value metal enough to face insurmountable odds just for the freedom of playing it. Here’s hoping the next chapters in their story get easier.
Alex Skolnick, TESTAMENT
Watching Heavy Metal in Baghdad put things into perspective. You do tend to take things for granted when you just start, and can go down in your practice space and it hasn’t been hit by a bomb. I just felt bad that they had to go through all that just to rock, and it’s such a non-issue here. The furthest thing from your mind would be that someone would try to stop you from it. I think they are incredibly courageous, and it obviously gave them the fuel to keep going.
I can’t imagine being in that scenario at all. I don’t have any point of reference for that. I wouldn’t even pretend to say that I could sympathize with that situation. So my heart went out to them, and I hope that I get to meet them sometime. It’s a very inspiring story.
Brann Dailor, MASTODON

