Undeath Are Bringing Ghoulish Fun Back to Death Metal

The band talks about smoking weed, wearing Crocs, and why they want their shows to be more like communal celebrations instead of solemn rituals.
Undeath
Undeath, from left: Kyle Beam, Matt Browning, Alexander Jones, Tommy Wall, and Jared Welch. (Photos by Errick Easterday)

Undeath don’t care for your tortured death metal poetry. Zooming in from his home in Rochester, New York, the band’s founding guitarist and primary lyricist Kyle Beam recites a verse from an unnamed peer in a mocking tone, hiding a stoner grin as he goes on about the meaning of life and the nature of time passing in unrhyming free-verse. When he’s finished, vocalist Alexander Jones, in a separate box on the screen, snaps his fingers politely.

Undeath’s songs are not so serious. On their upcoming sophomore album, It’s Time… To Rise From the Grave, Jones bellows about zombies, guts, and gore from the lowest depths of his chest, while his bandmates match that urgency with punishing riffs. The singer enunciates enough to make at least some of the words comprehensible without a lyric sheet, as on their latest track, where he crams each syllable of the title into a wretched gurgle of a chorus: “Head splattered in seven ways!” Not only do they recognize their music’s inherent ridiculousness, they draw attention to it—inviting you into their realm of inside jokes and violent, horror-movie fantasies.

“I like Kyle’s lyrics because they make me smile,” Jones says warmly. “Me too,” Beam adds, and the two burst into laughter.

It is this simple, joyful spirit that has helped this old-school death metal band stand out from countless revival acts. They’re self-professed “internet music nerds,” and their songs pinpoint a chaotic middle ground between pure mayhem and technical composition. (Beam offhandedly mentions how one of his riffs was inspired by the Russian composer Serge Koussevitzky.)

Throughout It’s Time… To Rise From the Grave, you will hear traces of death metal cornerstones like Cannibal Corpse, Morbid Angel, and Autopsy. But collaborating with Philadelphia-based producer Scoops Dardaris, best known for his work on DIY indie-rock records by Another Michael and Wednesday, they aimed for music that was more inviting. First single “Rise From the Grave” sets the tone with a catchy riff and hummable chorus. When I compare it to a pop song, Beam nods vigorously. “We’ll never have totally straight rock songs,” he says, “but we wanted more refined songwriting—recognizable structures that are still a little topsy-turvy.”

This approach represents a steady evolution since Undeath’s debut, 2020’s Lesions of a Different Kind. In addition to drummer Matt Browning—who illustrates the band’s intricate and interconnected album art—they have since fleshed out their lineup with guitarist Jared Welch and bassist Tommy Wall. Along the way, they also amassed an audience of like-minded obsessives, who have rallied around the band’s limited-edition physical releases and unorthodox merch items, like Undeath-branded Crocs charms. “We all wear Crocs,” Beam says matter-of-factly. Jones adds, “Once you start wearing Crocs, it’s impossible to wear other shoes.”

And as their music has reached a wider audience, Undeath’s shows have furthered this intimate connection. They carry the feeling of communal celebrations, extending far beyond expectations of their genre. “There’s plenty of metal bands whose whole prerogative is to create a dark and oppressive atmosphere,” Jones says. “I love bands like that, but with Undeath, I see myself in the crowd. I want people to have the experience that I cherish so much. I have the best time when I know the people watching us are having a good time.”

Pitchfork: Your debut album was an instant breakthrough in the metal community a couple of years ago. How did you respond to that success?

Kyle Beam: We decided that we needed to find two more people—like, pretty soon. And we needed to sound better live.

Alexander Jones: We needed to sound way better. It’s crazy looking back at early videos compared to what we sound like now. I don’t even recognize that band now.

KB: No wonder I was so scared to get on stage. It sounded like shit!

AJ: It can’t be overstated—we were broke. Kyle didn’t even have a guitar tuner.

What are your ambitions for the band at this point?

AJ: We’ve been ambitious from the start. Right from when we were writing the first demos, we wanted to do the band full-time and play shows. We were going to try to make it happen regardless, but the fact that it’s becoming sustainable—where we can come home and not be out tons of money like we have been in all our previous bands—has been a nice bonus. As far as long-term goals go, Kyle and I look up to bands like Cannibal Corpse and Morbid Angel, who have built a self-sustaining and long-lasting career just by being themselves. We’re trying to push it as hard as we can so we can get to that level.

KB: Also I just love writing guitar music and playing guitar. As long as I can keep doing that, that’d be dope. This has been the best shot I’ve had at making a living from playing music. Before Undeath, I thought I would stop playing and go to trade school.

AJ: I was in a similar position after my last band. I was so emotionally cashed-out. I was done with music. I was going to become a plumber.

One thing that sets your music apart is its playfulness, and some of your songs even have jokes in them.

AJ: We take the music seriously, but we don’t take ourselves that seriously. At least for me, if I’m watching a band and I can tell the dude singing these songs about murdering people really believes it, I’m kind of cringing a little bit. When there’s an element of self-effacement and humor, it makes it so much better.

Your shows really put that attitude forward—you guys are smiling on stage, and Alex is telling jokes between songs.

KB: That’s my favorite shit. I’m so sick of calling shows “live rituals.” I’m about drinking beer, getting drunk as hell, and playing some riffs.

AJ: I have a lot of respect and admiration for frontpeople who can get on stage and exude raw primal intensity and scare people. That’s a very unique skill set. But the bands who I’ve always enjoyed seeing live are a little more welcoming, a little more of a party atmosphere. We’re all dorks. We’re all internet music nerds. Let’s get out of our bodies a little bit and have some fun. The best possible show-going experience is when you can let go of any pretensions you have and just have a good time.

Speaking of internet nerds, I saw you recently started a TikTok. How has that been so far?

AJ: It’s been a nightmare. [laughs] For me personally, when we’re in the van, I probably spend two or three hours a day just looking at TikTok. It’s a very shameful part of my existence, but it’s who I am. It’s my truth.

What do you like about TikTok?

AJ: Just the jokes. The way the algorithm works is so devious. My girlfriend’s on it too, and her TikTok is all recipes and gardening and foraging for mushrooms. Mine is a descent into psychosis and madness. It’s the most second-grade depraved humor you can think of. I love shit like that.

Even the fact that you are on TikTok separates you from a lot of death metal bands, who are more likely to be seen posing for press photos in the forest and stuff.

AJ: We spend most of our time hanging out, gaming, drinking beer, and smoking weed. If we ever attempted to do the mystique thing—donning cloaks when we went on stage—we’d be lying to ourselves, and we’d be lying to everybody watching our band. We’re not in the business of fabricating our lives. We’re indoor people.

KB: Where you see me right now is where I’m at most days: in front of my computer. I’m not in the forest… almost ever.