4 October 2004
By: Rachel Joyce
aXis Magazine Writer
Here in the South, the intense heat of the sun is known to play tricks on peoples' eyes as well as their ears. Quite frequently, motorists will hallucinate after a new coat of thick asphalt is laid down and has been baking under the unforgiving, hot Florida sun causing reflections off windshields that produce a deadly oasis in place of highway lane division lines.
As the grimy tar and solar radiation blurs your vision while ripping up the road, Central Florida's newest heavy musical outfit - Asphalt - blurs, then stomps, spits, grids and skids on the lines dividing the sounds of heavy metal music giving that new coat of asphalt on the road to musical conformity a serious case of road rash.
Asphalt (the band not the tar) has been Orlando, FL's own hijacked driver through the dizzying miles of unlikely metal inspiration that mix and bubble in the blackness of the a fresh vat of asphalt. A little over a year ago, Asphalt coagulated when the angst and volume of hardcore stoner metal found its way from New York to Florida and did it in the backseat with the chunky smoothness of southern rock while the bass lines of funk provided the groove of their union somewhere deep in swamps.
That offspring, the current crew of Asphalt, are a medley of members who came up in the Central Florida scene playing with different heavy groups. Guitarists Nate and Chris were all members of The Ox Project - the musical prelude to Asphalt's signature swampy sound. Filling out the rest of the five-man crew and their gritty sound are hardcore vocalist Marshall formerly of Bring Back Joel, bassist William Andrew Brickman, III of Midst of Zool, and Matt Schmidt formerly of MOSS.
Together in a short amount of time, Asphalt has grown on the Central Florida fans of hard and heavy music by constantly headlining the top clubs in Orlando when they aren't opening for national acts like Static X and Damage Plan. If they keep this momentum up, Asphalt will be hitting the road and delivering their heavy-hitting, stinky, grimy version of rock and roll that will leave you as dizzy, and possibly as beat-up, as a highway mirage on a hot Florida day.
