by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

The psychobilly sound has risen from the grave again lately, and who better to represent its reanimation in Montreal than the Brains? You see, singer/guitarist René was once in Delta 666 and bassist John and drummer Franck were in the Ripcordz. Then they died, I guess, because now they're shambling, brain-munching zombies mixing the raw fury of punk with the sexed-up shake of rockabilly. But just because they're “living impaired” doesn't mean they aren't human!

Mirror: Living humans always talk about how awful zombies are, eating people's brains and such, but they don't hesitate to shoot zombies in their brains the second they see them. Isn't that just plain hypocritical?

John: Those are the risks we take, being zombies. But c'mon, wouldn't you rather be a zombie anyway? We play music, eat people—just the other day I ate an old hippie and got a wicked-cool buzz. And who says zombies don't carry guns these days? It makes chow-time much simpler now that we've learned to better hunt our prey.

René: Actually, we're not that awful, we just want your brains. What's wrong with that? It's not like we'll invade some country and kill poor innocents—wait a sec, that could be cool. I wonder if Iraqi brains tastes like shish taouk?

M: Have you seen George Romero's Day of the Dead? In that movie, there's a kind-hearted doctor who tries to befriend a zombie named Bub, and to convince the other humans of the inherent humanity of zombies. How do you feel about this representation of relations between zombies and the living? Does it indicate a possible rapprochement between these two solitudes?

J: We're trying to bridge that gap with our hybrid music instead of obedience but, absolutely, there is hope. Then again, we may eat them anyway. Don't be surprised to see the undead among the crowd at the Foufs show. Zombie vision isn't so good so, if you show up looking like a zombie, we might not eat you.

Franck: We need to live our undead lives unnoticed so we'll pretend to be human by putting some pink makeup on and acting like normal human beings. We all have normal jobs—René is a neurosurgeon, I am a psychiatrist and John is a pathologist. We go to church every Sunday—and have zombie parties in the crypts. We even go to the doctor sometimes to check our cholesterol levels—brains are very fatty.

R: I don't care of what people think of me because in the end I will eat their friggin' brains—ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!

Brain salad surgery

M: In the film Hannibal, good ol' Dr. Lecter feeds Ray Liotta a chunk of his own brain, skillet-fried with tasty herbs. Do you guys have any haute-cuisine recipes for brains?

J: I think recipes are for humans. I never get sick of the sweet, natural taste that brains and flesh have to offer—room temperature is nice.

F: Since I was vegan in my living past, I'll hunt for some vegan hippies—the living will thank me for killing all the dirty hippies anyway! And I try not to eat businesspeople's brains because they're kinda shallow, with no taste or texture. But a nice philosophy teacher is always welcome.

R: One of my favourite recipes is the Elvis-style fried brain sandwich—one decent-sized brain, two slices of mouldy bread and some expired peanut butter. Make a sandwich, deep fry for two hours.

M: One difficulty that zombies face is the gradual rotting away of the flesh, impairing the zombie's ability to perform ordinary daily tasks, like cracking open the skull of a small child for a tasty snack. Living people just don't understand the loss of dignity and self-esteem that zombies must deal with. Have any of you lost important body parts?

J: I had a lot of teenage zombie acne but it sort of transferred to my rickety old slap bass and now it's falling apart. We've learned, though, that tattoos seem to keep the body intact. It's really amazing.

F: The other day I was doin' it zombie style with my undead girlfriend when, in the middle of our passion, my whole machinery fell apart and got stuck inside hers. And the other day I almost lost an ear at a Vulgar Deli show. Man, those bastards are loud! It takes a lot of low self-esteem to be happy as a zombie, but it's worth it!

M: Seeing as how you're now undead, and thus don't have to worry about dying so much as eventually rotting away to a pile of toxic sludge, it's possible that the Brains will have a long and illustrious career. What are some of your plans for the future?

F: For now all we want is to play our crazy psychobilly all over the world—and eat our groupies' brains—and pretend to drink beer, because we really only drink blood. It's way better. We'll do a zombie B-movie-style video in the near future with some locals zombie movie-makers—have you seen Diamond of the Damned and Théo génétiquement modifié?

J: Braaaaains!

R: Mmmm, more brains por favor!

With Crankenstein and Gutterdemons
at Foufounes Électriques on Monday, April 14, 9pm, $3

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