“We assume everyone hates us,” drummer Dave Rosenberg quips when discussing Deadguy playing to a larger crowd at the Damnation Fest UK in 2023. That impulse was immediately alleviated. In fact, the past few years have reinforced precisely how intensely this band is adored.
Spawning from boredom in the clutches of COVID, Deadguy incrementally inched toward the inevitable: a new album. Thirty years after the revered Fixation on a Coworker, Deadguy received carte blanche from Relapse Records to create the maelstrom of spit and sweat that is Near-Death Travel Services, which dropped on June 27.
“It wasn’t anything necessarily on purpose,” Rosenberg concedes. This was no calculated comeback. Rather, the band had resurfaced thanks to a friend making a successful documentary about them.
Deadguy carries a plethora of myth, lore, and drama. If for some reason you don’t know them, there is a full-length documentary (DEADGUY: Killing Music, 2021, dir. Bill Saunders) about the band and their tribulations. The doc centers around their monumental record, Fixation on a Coworker (1995, Victory Records). Its cataclysmic impact still resonates through myriad subcultures.
Despite Rosenberg’s self-effacing predication that, “No one is gonna care,” the documentary emerged as a superb piece of gritty storytelling in the form of a visceral reunion and a harsh tale of a young band. Ultimately, this led to a world premiere in Philly on Sept 24, 2021, at Underground Arts, followed by their first live performance with this line up in 25 years. Then on the following night, the lineup played Decibel’s Metal & Beer Fest, as cautious crowds were emerging from lockdown. A month later, the band played St Vitus in Brooklyn, NY.
“It became fun again,” says Rosenberg. He had been writing numerous songs, amassing over 40 demos. As the next few years unraveled, the band would find themselves playing Paris, France; Antwerp, Belgium; and the U.K. In July 2024, they played two spots in Tokyo, Japan. Rosenberg chuckles, “We stayed in the same hotel as Turnstile. They went to play the Fuji Rock Festival. ‘Ok. We’re going to go play to these 200 people.’”
Taping the reunion in real time for the documentary, vocalist Tim Singer wondered as he drove with his wife to a warehouse in Hoboken, NJ, “‘What will it feel like with the five of us in a room together?’ It was surreal,” he says. “If we can get past ‘the weird’… The weird lasted 30 seconds. We default to being utter dorks. It’s cool that we can go back to who we were in the ’90s … A safe space for idiots.”
Rosenberg injects, “That was the working title for the album.”
Singer adds, still recalling the anticipation, “It felt like I was on a weird blind date. But then it clicked.”
At this point, Deadguy know what the precipice of live shows presents: 14 old songs—remember, they only released one album. “The main thing that was that the nostalgia wore off a little bit for us,” says Rosenberg. “That was a big part of the impetus to get back and go make some new stuff. Crispy (Chris Corvino, guitar), unfortunately, put that bug in our ear: ‘You can only do this so many times.’ We’re (thinking), ‘Ohh, damn. He’s right.” You know this is Crispy’s superpower, right? He’ll find that one thing and you’re like, ‘Ohh …’ So, at that point I was like, ‘Well, we’re gonna do it. We gotta make something new. We gotta make something out of this.’ And we went for it.”
Near-Death Travel Services is a fierce record; as in absorbing a worrisome stab to the stomach as the assailant pairs it with a brick to the face. The band return with producer Steve Evetts, who produced Fixation (plus a resume of staggering talent and impressive depth of many genres). Near-Death Travel Services offers bedlam in a frenetic collision of each member’s instruments. Keith Huckins (guitar) and Jim Baglino (bass) join Crispy with assaulting angular riffs, thick and repetitive sludge, spastic tantrums, and breakdowns. They insert some sections that just defy categorization. Rosenberg fills a listener’s space with looming and pounding drums. The mix is perfection. You can hear each member’s blood offering while Singer spews paranoid and vengeful lyrics of spite and distrust with his signature caustic growls.
Any uninspired search will even yield a staunch declaration from Deadguy noting that they do not care with what label or hyphenated hybrid a fan may adorn them. But Singer declares, “We have always been a metal band.” (I recall the 1995 CD Compilation, Punk Rock Jukebox on Blackout! Records. Deadguy covers “Police Story”. Deadguy’s liner notes simply stated. “Black Flag and Black Sabbath. What else is there? Or what else do you need?” Genius.) Which also recalls the shirt from thirty years ago: ‘Death to False Metal’ with ‘DEADGUY’ hovering above a pentagram. Classification is unimportant. The band sounds like ‘what we sound like when we play music together.’ And when that aural destruction leaves a speaker, it is instantly recognizable. Rosenberg calls it “angry jazz.’ Listen to “War with Strangers” and try to disagree.
Although Deadguy’s return could be daunting, the members never feel pressure to adhere to anything from the past. Dave concedes to having, “a little bit of a sound, right? You know, Tim sounds like Tim sounds, right? And we all kind of play like what we play like. There was never really a formula we had realistically; not even being positive or negative.”
Accepting stagnant time and established parameters are not for Deadguy. But it has been three decades and every aspect of putting out a record is different. And some of those are welcome. Dave, “I think the big difference for this album was – the two big ones – well, first of all, it sounds better. Because we didn’t have to do it (as we did previously). We did the entire Fixation record in seven days, including the vocals and the mix, I think. What a difference in that regard. We had a better sense of what we wanted to sound like. And, you know, since we hadn’t been playing these songs, they come out just kind of different. You know what I mean? I wrote a lot of demos for the record. Then, we got it down to like 10 and Keith wrote a whole song by himself and was like getting it done.” Rosenberg jokes with Huckins in mind, ‘What, you couldn’t have written three more?!?’ But the reality was that we had a little bit more time. I think for Tim in particular—which he can certainly address—he was able to listen to these songs over the course of about four months. Then, going in (to the studio) and having more time. Plus, we had Steve Evetts, who we’ve worked with so many times in the past. He was able to push us in the right directions.” Even though we weren’t playing them, the songs were pretty baked. I mean, we weren’t showing up with nothing. We weren’t Metallica for six months; which would be a miracle to be able to do.”
Establishing that they feel no pressure beyond what they invoke upon themselves, Singer had a gnawing thought at the back of his brain. “We knew this could almost ruin the last record. If this thing came out and laid an egg, it would make it look like Fixation was a fluke.”
Delving into the abrasive, relentless hammering of Near-Death Travel Services, a listener absorbs the cacophony in the twisting riffs and Singer’s jarring performance to the point of discomfort. This provides something fresh and portentous while the record remains familiar. Rosenberg elaborates, “I think the big thing I’d say is, we expanded our vocabulary. Our musical vocabulary got bigger over 30 years or whatever. I mean whether it’s Crispy who sang with a bunch of bands just as the singer. That certainly expands the way that you think about (songwriting). I also learned to play guitar, which made a big difference.”
Post-Fixation, Singer went on to Kiss It Goodbye from 1996-98, 2021’s resurrection of his band prior to Deadguy, No Escape, and Bitter Branches (with Dan Yemin) from 2020- 22. He says his breadth is less compared to other members, “I’m only capable of one style of singing. I can make ‘Happy Birthday’ sound like the end of the world.”
Discussing the new generation attending these shows of the prior few years, both members are floored by the flattery and participation with singalongs and moshing. Rosenberg reflects again on Damnation Fest. Admittedly they were cautious about attendance and the energy of the crowd, assuming the youth was not familiar with them. “First song. Anarchy.” Stunned, he ponders, “How do these kids know these songs?” Tim adds, “And there were people older than us. It was crazy.”
Rosenberg adds, “It made us feel better.” The unfettered reaction is invigorating to a band defined by chaos. “I love a good melee. I love a feverish pit,” Singer says, and goes on to explain that Near-Death Travel Services is a result of inspiration and tenacity. “It feels like unfinished business. We put out Fixation (…) We never supported it. We never played it. That’s why it didn’t feel like karaoke (when we were) getting back together. Because it wasn’t like, ‘Ohh, we spent three years playing these songs. We’re out there playing the hits!’ Again, this is the first time people know the words to this iteration of Deadguy.”
Deadguy’s arduous advance appears to be a perpetual journey. Rosenberg relays disbelief as he tells me that November and December 2025 are filled with bookings and Deadguy is already getting requests for 2026.
Accidental or not, of these new turns of events he says, “Once you’re in it … I don’t want to go back to my job. It’s so stupid. I stare at a computer all day. Given the option …”
Near-Death Travel Services is out now and you can order it from Relapse Records. Follow Deadguy on Instagram for future updates.
