“Criminally underrated” is a criminally overused expression. Still, it’s the best descriptor for Dååth, a searing and scintillating band from Atlanta that once pushed heavy metal to the limit—and got almost no recognition for it.
The ATLiens proved their mettle as metal masters on 2009’s The Concealers. Dååth’s third record saw the band dabble with alchemy and make death-metal pop songs, as if there ever were such a thing, with songs like “Sharpen the Blades” and “Self-Corruption Manifesto.” Touched up with instrumental interludes, smart yet unpretentious time changes—and some synth and orchestration for good measure—The Concealers rivals any kinda-similar-sounding album by Goatwhore or Skeletonwitch.
Part of the reason Dååth didn’t get their due could be the seemingly countless lineup changes the band underwent from its inception in 2000 until 2012, when some of the band members jumped ship and joined Chimaira. Dååth saw an eyebrow-raising 11 members depart—an especially impressive feat considering they only had four studio albums to their name.
That number still stands in 2023—but perhaps not for too long. Dååth surprised us in late February by announcing a record deal with Metal Blade and unveiling their first new song in 12 years, “No Rest No End.” Jaws collectively dropped and pools of drool spilled among those who dug Dååth in their heyday but, frankly, forgot about them.
Almost two months later, in late April, the foursome sparked even more excitement by releasing a cover of Death’s “The Philosopher.” Dååth co-founder and guitarist Eyal Levi explained that they put out the song to celebrate the 30-year anniversary of its video appearing on TV.
As Dååth never formally broke up during their decade-long hiatus, they can’t be blamed for cashing in with a reunion tour. For one thing, the band hasn’t announced any live performances. For another, Dååth are an underground crew with a tendency to keep its audience guessing—not exactly something metal purists find palatable. They felt the same way about Dååth’s increased use of electronics, the epitome of which was on a club-ready remix of their song “Dead on the Dance Floor.”
Whatever lies in Dååth’s future, we decided now is as good a time as any to unveil our previously unreleased interview with vocalist Sean Zatorsky (a.k.a. Sean Z.), who joined the band in 2008. The conversation dates all the way back to July 28, 2009, less than three months before Century Media put out The Concealers. Even so, Sean Z. dug to the center of Dååth to explain what made the band tick—and alluded to what might have led to their lengthy break.
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How’s life on the road these days?
We’re in the middle of nowhere right now. I always try to find something to do while on the road. Me and [former bassist] Jeremy [Creamer] were in Minnesota and found a game place. For 15 bucks, they give you an hour of free games and any food you want. It was definitely worth it. Beats sitting bored in the van.
Do you have any personal time?
We’re constantly surrounded by people, man. There really isn’t much alone time.
Are you guys getting along?
Everyone’s doing good. This tour was definitely a little more grueling, but I’m glad that we did it, because it actually turned out to be a pretty good swing for us. A lot of people coming back, a lot of returning fans, people who hadn’t even seen us in two years. In Canada especially, people flocked out to see us.
The only time Dååth’s been to Canada, I was with them. We toured with Dark Funeral for that first time going through Canada. There’s always those few diehard metal fans who complain, “Uhh … it’s too mainstream.”
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“I quit my job, I quit my life, I quit my other band and went on the road, man.”
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Were you a big fan of Dååth before you joined the band?
Oh yeah, man. I’ve known these guys for years. … I got the CD of [the band’s first album] Futility when it came out. They came to watch my previous band play, and one of the Dååth guys told me they wished I was in the band then. That was right before [second album] The Hinderers came out. It eventually all worked out.
[The Dååth band member] always had an eye on musicians in my band. The last 10 years of living in Atlanta, he tried to take a drummer once, a guitar player once. But I’ve known him forever, and he’s been good.
When Dååth were on Ozzfest, he actually asked me to start learning the words, saying I may need to fill in. And then they came back from Japan, and he was like, “Basically, we leave in two days, and we can practice for one day. Can you go on a U.S. tour with us for a month? I was like, “I guess!” So I quit my job, I quit my life, I quit my band and went on the road, man.
How did the band know at that point that you might be needed?
A lot of it had to do with their live shows. The shows weren’t getting any better. They were looking for something a little bit more diehard, more driven. I don’t think [former vocalist] Sean [Farber] really wanted to do this. He was a little bit older, and it seemed he had other plans on the agenda. I was a little bit younger and more eager, so I just jumped right into it and have been loving it ever since.
Were there any aspects of being a frontman that you wanted to bring to the band?
Yeah, just being myself. Sean Farber had never been in a band before, but I’ve been screaming in bands for 10 years, man, so it’s more natural to me. It wasn’t such a hard thing for me to pick up on.
One of the things that I’ve brought [to the table] is that I do windmills and scream at the same time. I do it pretty much throughout the set. When we’re all headbanging, it’s like a whirlwind.
Why is this tour more grueling?
It’s the number of dates, with only one day off. The shows are definitely smaller, but they’re more intimate, so I do like it on some level. We just came back from [playing with] DragonForce and Cynic—some of those are 1,200 people a night. But you gotta do all the tours, man. Get the exposure. Can’t just jump on big tours all the time.
Is Dååth’s current incarnation better suited for clubs or arenas?
As it’s grown, I think we’ve actually gotten more into playing the bigger places. We did a whole month just playing those places, and by the end of it, we were fucking owning it. Playing the smaller places is more of a challenge, because to get 20 people moving is definitely harder than to get 800 people moving. Once one dude does it in a crowd of 800, 40 other people follow. But when you only get 20 or 30 people at a show, [it’s difficult].
There were a couple of dates where there were just, like, 10 people out there. It’s bad promotion by the promoters, man. But it’s been consistent. At least once every fucking night, we get it moving.
Politics often make their way into your lyrics. Are you more concerned with national or global affairs?
Definitely global. I like America, I think it’s a great place. But there’s a lot of fucked-up shit that happens in the world. I was tripping when I wrote “Sharpen the Blades.” I ate a bunch of mushrooms … and when they hadn’t kicked in, so I was, like, “Shit, I may as well eat the rest.” So I ate the rest. And by the time I [did], the first half had kicked in, and it was just fucking life-changing, man. I was up till 10 in the morning, and I just busted out the “Sharpen the Blades” lyrics.
Why did that particular song come to you then, do you think?
We had some ideas for the song, and it seemed like a really aggressive song, and somehow the blades [idea] just came to me. After that was done, [designer] Jorden [Haley] went ahead and put the artwork together, and the artwork goes perfect with that song. It has blades and shit, and [Haley’s streetwear clothing line] Bird Ov Prey. I hadn’t intended it like that, but I had written [“Sharpen the Blades”] before I had known about the artwork.
Why do you incorporate so many electronic elements in your music?
Honestly, that’s probably my favorite genre of music besides rap. I fucking love electronic music. Me and Jeremy and [former guitarist] Emil [Werstler] are in the same boat: We love that shit. We have a plan to go back [to electronic music]. That’s all I do in my free time, that’s all Jeremy does in his free time. We just write weird electronic beats.
I do like metal, but when I’m on the road, man, I just really don’t want to listen to metal. Six bands every day, 40 days, sitting in the van, just like, “Dude, let’s just not put on any metal today.” When I’m home, I do. I slam it. I listen to a lot of Three 6 Mafia and Cypress Hill. Definitely, definitely smoke a lot of pot. I think really, when you get down to it, it’s like, “Man, let’s put on some smoking music.”
Have you considered making a purely electronic Dååth album?
You never know. We’ve discussed it, just jokingly, but you never know. It could just be a random one that comes out on top of a metal one at the same time. Like a double disc or a bonus, hidden feature—a few electronic songs.
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“I do windmills and scream at the same time.”
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Was your favorite show ever an electronic-music concert?
Well, the first show that I ever was at in my life was the Eagles’ Hell Freezes Over tour. I was 12 years old, man. That shit blew my mind. Some dude had carved an X in his chest. It was at the Orange Bowl [in Miami], and people were out there shooting up heroin and slashing their wrists. It was fucked up.
It was the first real concert I had been to. My parents took me to it, and I was like, “Wow, man, fucking Eagles.” That was supposedly the last time they were ever going to tour too, so it was big then. But now it don’t matter, because I think they’re still together.
I went to Lollapalooza in ’96. That was the year that Rage was there, and Soundgarden and Metallica. Melvins. Screaming Trees. That was a good year, man. And Pantera and White Zombie—that was a fuckin’ tour, man. That was like ’95, ’97.
Were those fans more brutal than metal shows?
I don’t know, man. I haven’t seen that many brutal shows. I’ve heard rumors but never actually witnessed one.
