Finding the lighter side of Hammerlord’s heavy metal

“Valentine’s Day is a stupid holiday,” Stevie Cruz says. “I’m sorry, but it is.” He shrugs and sips his Jameson and leans forward. On this gray afternoon, deep into the long and unforgiving winter, he’s wearing a cutoff black T-shirt. His forearms are tan.

Cruz is the lead singer for Hammerlord, and he and guitarists J.P. Gaughan and Ty Scott, drummer Adam Mitchell and bassist Terry Taylor have built their band into one of the area’s best-known and widely respected metal acts. Now the group has decided to reclaim February 14 in the name of “sane people” with a gig at the Replay Lounge.

“Going to see Hammerlord on Valentine’s Day, that’s like giving the finger to the Hallmark holiday of the season,” Cruz says with a laugh.

In conversation, he’s about the furthest thing from the wired maniac he appears to be onstage at a Hammerlord show. He smiles easily, often with a swoop of the head to keep his jet-black hair out of friendly brown eyes. He praises the local metal scene, referring to it as “hugely supportive” and “thriving.” And when he’s ready for another drink, he grins at the bartender and adds a “pretty please.”

“Hammerlord is a performance,” Cruz says. “I’m also a DJ, and a lot of times when I’m out DJing, people don’t usually make the crossover. Like, ‘No way is the guy from Hammerlord at the bar playing Justin Timberlake.’ It is confusing. It’s a huge difference.”

Besides, Cruz says, Hammerlord isn’t the average metal band. There is a certain amount of comedy in Cruz’s lyrics, a streak of self-awareness that you don’t usually get from other bands working this genre. Hammerlord’s EP We Live!, released last June, contains the song “Giant-Size Man-Thing.”

“A lot of people think that heavy metal is about dudes who take themselves way too seriously,” Cruz says. “I mean, it is serious, and we’re very serious about what we do. But there’s no point to doing Hammerlord — or really anything else — if you’re not having fun with it or you’re not having a good time.”

That outlook helps explain the Hammerlord stage vibe. Despite Gaughan and Scott’s furious dueling riffs and Mitchell’s raging kit assault — not to mention Cruz’s harsh delivery — Hammerlord live is a relatively warm and inviting experience. Whenever Cruz isn’t screaming into a microphone or threatening to launch into a crowd from atop speakers, he’s beaming.

“A lot of people are like, ‘You know, I don’t even like metal. In fact, I hate it. But I love hearing Hammerlord,'” he says. “I think a lot of that is the energy exchange. It’s so funny — we’ve opened up for Static-X or Rob Zombie, and some kids that are at that show are 16, 18, 20 years old, and it’s the first time they’ve heard authentic thrash metal.”

Cruz’s exposure to metal, and to plenty of other sounds, came early. In fact, his trademark roar — a rough screech that could goad an army to victory — has a somewhat unlikely source of inspiration.

“I was getting into heavy metal pretty early, but I was raised on blues and jazz and rock and roll,” Cruz says. “My dad was a record collector. A lot of my style, if I had to draw it back to the first time that I heard that sound that I try to make, is listening to James Brown. He had this squeal about him, and it was so real and so raw. There’s also lots of John Coltrane — some of his crazier records were these horns that sound completely insane.”

Ask Cruz his age, and he’ll recite a flippant line about being “old enough to know better, still too young to care.” He admits that he has been “around for quite a while,” and he has — among his earlier bands was the Esoteric. He has probably played a Valentine’s Day gig or two in all that time, so I ask whether Hammerlord has a hidden agenda for this one.

“The crazy just happens whenever we’re together,” he says, laughing. “I’ve been doing the heavy-metal thing for so long. You’ve just got to believe in your own bullshit and really love what you’re doing. And I do. I really love playing with those guys.”