Inner Altar’s DIY doom

The day after a mid-January snowstorm rocks Kansas City, knocking out power for thousands of residents, I shovel the white stuff off my car and drive to meet up with the members of Inner Altar (who also rock and are also liable to knock out your power). 

Inside bassist Stephen Snow’s apartment, which sits two floors above Garozzo’s, in Columbus Park, Snow, guitarist Neal Dyrkacz, drummer Dillon Bendetti, and I dine on some fine Italian cuisine (courtesy of Papa John’s). Guitarist Guitarist Alex Tunks and vocalist Andrew Snow — Stephen’s brother — call in to the interview from Lee’s Summit via Facebook Portal. We set about discussing the metal band’s punk-rock origins and its debut album, Vol III.

All five members came up in the city’s hardcore scene, frequenting shows at the Anchor, Wolf Den, and El Torreon. “I remember Neal at the Anchor being too tall to mosh right,” Andrew says. 

A precursor to Inner Altar was Blood Shaman, a punk-scene favorite circa 2014. In that band, Max McBride, a former member of Inner Altar, and Andrew Snow played doom metal at a speedy, punkier clip, with Snow’s cavernous, nearly operatic baritone in the foreground. Andrew says he thought that Shaman made for a solid “practice run”; his bandmates sing the praises of Shaman’s band’s sole tape.

Over the years, the members of Inner Altar stopped playing as many hardcore gigs. Tunks and Bendetti still play in Midwest hardcore juggernaut Spine, but the other three members have made Inner Altar their lone musical pursuit. The band’s first gig was in the fall of 2014 — a Halloween show at Vandals (formerly the Newsroom, currently Woody’s). They came up with “two and a half or three songs,” Steven says, then got to work on their first EP.

The band’s early sessions consisted mainly of Dyrkacz and Andrew formulating riffs, drinking, smoking pot, and trading obscure late-sixties and early-seventies metal tracks on YouTube. They were really into Pentagram. 

“We all loved Sabbath and shit, but we wanted to dig a little deeper,” Andrew says. He cites the Sir Lord Baltimore song, “Lake Isle Of Innisfree,” as particular inspiration. Dyrkacz’ bright guitar tone and quick-picking on numerous Altar songs (including “Undine’s Kiss”) mimic the “medieval, majestic” use of harpsichord on “Lake Isle” and play into the band’s mythical imagery.

After two EPs and a subsequent live album, the band got to work on Vol III. Despite the fact that the band already had some material ready, saved from earlier writing sessions, the process stalled as McBride departed and Tunks and Stephen joined the band. There was also an issue with some noisy neighbors at the practice space. 

“The entire fucking time we were tracking this album, every time we were there, [this other band] would show up and they would play a three- or four-hour practice, their grandma would come and hang out and smoke cigarettes,” Stephen says. He musters up his raspiest grandma voice: “‘You guys sound good, Johnny!’” 

Stephen’s not done: “They played the same beatdown breakdown riff every time. There was no writing, just, ‘Let’s play that same breakdown every time.’” The Altar boys contend that early mixes, if turned up loud enough, contain trace amounts of what the neighboring band’s ReverbNation page refers to as “djent/deathcore.” (Apparently, they were super nice, though.)

Once Tunks’ mixing work was done — he says it’s by far his largest project yet — the band was finally left with its masterpiece. The Snow brothers explain some of Vol III’s intricacies, including its heaven-to-hell (or Mount Olympus-to-Hades) arc. 

“It starts off, you’re basically in the heavens with the gods,” Stephen says. “By the middle of the album, you’re out on the battlefield. And by the end, your soul is doomed to suffer for the rest of your life.” 

Andrew says that “Lives Of Fire” is inspired by Vesta, the Greek goddess of the hearth, whose servants threw themselves into the fire. “Ritual sacrifice: that’s just kinda what I’m into, y’know?” he says. 

Stephen also believes that the A side of the record is more accessible, while the B side packs the punch that metalheads and fans of Real Heavy Shit™ will love.

Josh Wilkinson, owner and founder of Kansas City-based metal label The Company, falls into the latter camp. Long before the album was anywhere near completion, Wilkinson, who Dyrkacz calls Inner Altar’s biggest fan, offered to release it. Mercy Seat Tattoo artist Mikey Wheeler created some epic illustrations for the album cover and insert; it’s a record that feels good to gaze at and hold.

Staying true to its DIY spirit, Inner Altar — along with friend of the band Cary Thrasher — helped create the album’s first big promotional push with a homemade video for “Lives Of Fire.” Filmed at the infamous Vine Street “workhouse castle” on one camera (and a beer in Thrasher’s other hand) and lit by a few torches and a set of car headlights, the band goes to town in the 19th Century ruins. (It’s as close to medieval as they’ll get in Kansas City). Dyrkacz also worked in some green-screen clips after hours at his place of employment.

It all adds up to a sort of good-humored metal.

“I think coming from punk and hardcore, you have to acknowledge the ‘goof factor’ in any sort of musical subgenre,” Tunks says. “And if you’re going to be playing epic doom rock-n-roll metal, there’s a fair bit of cheese involved sometimes.”

♦

Vol III is available now on all streaming platforms, with physical copies on TheCompanyKC.BigCartel.com.