As wave after wave pounded the audience, as Gavin Hayes floated and bobbed across the stage like a ghost being blown by the winds of rhythm, as Dino Campanella posed every other beat as a manly Statue of Liberty with drumsticks and a deep-seated hatred of drumheads, guitarist Mark Engles and bassist Drew Roulette formed a subtler inverse mirror on either side of Gavin. As Drew's attention wandered from bass strings to crowd to stage, the transcendental naked eye absorbing everything, as Mark's universe shrank to the size of a guitar and his eyes disappeared into the void of the strings, opposites balanced each other, anchored each other and echoed against each other until the signature sound of Dredg's scenic rock exploded into the room.

"It's nothing that interesting," says Engles, downplaying the way crowds have responded to the new album material on their tour. "It's just, obviously they know the songs now. We were playing and people would know the El Cielo and Leitmotif songs and not the new ones, but now they know the new ones so it's a whole kind of 'together now.' It's cool," he adds with an indifferent smile. Roulette, leaning against the plywood wall in the club's humble backyard shed, nods passively.

In Europe, where they're heading the following week, it's nothing that interesting either, even if it is Europe. It seems people are the same everywhere - in that they aren't; neither Engles nor Roulette allows himself to be pinned into pinning down the predilections of entire continents. "There's no way America is a certain way anyway because every city and every state in America is so different," says Engles. "I mean in America they can be completely loud and into it or completely quiet and boring, you know? So it's a matter of where you are in America and whether you've been to that city or that state before, whether there's alcohol being served, there's so many variables." It's the kind of explanation that one has to expect from a band that's looking to see how opposites not only attract but can be combined to create something entirely unexpected and perhaps nonsensical.

For a guitarist and a bassist, both seem averse to using hands to gesticulate while talking and neither attempts to wow with charisma or eloquence. They nearly melt into the shadows of the plywood shed as they speak. Engles dominates the answer portion of the Q&A, and Roulette doesn't seem to mind at all. At times, it seems like Roulette has completely disappeared even though an occasional breath serves as a reminder that, yes, he is still present, quiet though he be.

The difference in personalities, though, is what makes the band work. "I think us four as individuals, we're all so different. I don't think we ever know what one person is going to want to do next, which is great," says Engles, "Which is why I think our fans and our non-fans, whoever wants to listen, will not know what to expect album-to-album, song-to-song."

It's true that in some ways, fans and non-fans don’t know what to expect, but with three albums to date and years of touring under their belt, Dredg still retains the kind of honesty that makes fans proud. The band's reputation for sticking to their guns while changing themes and tactics - zigging and zagging while others lie stuck to a floor, covered in beer residue and hog tied by corporate edicts - precedes them wherever they go. Even under Interscope's watchful eye, Dredg has remained true to their search for something unexpected, the way the scenic rock of El Cielo built off Salvador Dali and became something definitively Dredg.

Engles is quick, however, to downplay the potential for being labeled heroes in an era of corporate kowtowing. The band's integrity isn't, at least to them, something to brag about. They're in a one-light bulb shed behind a small club in Santa Barbara, after all. But the humble surroundings aren't what keep Engles’ ego in check. It's something else, a knowledge of the way the industry works that he's eager to share. "I think there's a misinterpretation that happens with the public," he says. "Honestly, no one forces any band to do anything. Bands do that themselves. If there was a label that forced a band to do anything, I don't think a band would still be there."

Music is still a business, though, and Engles recognizes it as a challenge to control the band's image. Among the piles of marketing and advertising materials the label sends their way, there is still a great degree of control afforded the band. Roulette and Hayes illustrated the entire album jacket for Catch Without Arms, and art that did not make the final cut has been made available on the Dredg website and for sale as posters at concerts.

Many of the images draw from lyrics in the album, but those parts that you just can't figure out may have come from anywhere. Roulette describes his muses as "just anything. It's like painting. You grab it from whatever you can. It's not like one tapped thing. I’ve just been doodling my whole life."

The business side of the music

industry doesn't end with merchandising and showmanship. There's also the art of the interview, and neither Engles nor Roulette are phased by a microphone or spending twenty minutes in close-quarters with strangers. They know the drill and know what kinds of things people really want to hear - new album gossip - so Engles is quick to volunteer information about their next album. "We're going to have a 422-piece symphony on it…" he stops to scratch his head, "but they're not going to be playing stringed instruments. They're going to be playing, like, rubber bands and vacuums." He grins, then assures us that it is possible to play Febreze and that it sounds great on a ribbon mic.

With their four very distinct personalities, Dredg strikes a balance that Engles describes as "democratic and diplomacy and just figuring shit out together." It's the kind of creative process that allows input from every member of the band but is also flexible enough to allow for abstention. It's an artistic act that keeps everyone interested, and the lack of ego helps the band's endeavors.

The song “Sang Real,” a title Roulette cribbed from the pages of “The DaVinci Code” meaning "royal blood," was written largely without guitarist input but is now Engles' favorite song on the record. For Engles, "the outcome should have nothing to do with what your part is, it just has to do with how it came out."

Roulette's affinity for the song also has nothing to do with his part in its creation or titling. "I just think it's a unique song. [Gavin's] got a unique rhythm to his voice and what he's saying in the chorus is really dark." That's it.

And, truth be told, the title of a song, like the

name of the band, may not have anything to do with the content anyway. Confesses Engles, "Some of our songs, the titles do not mean anything. We’ve got to call it something so we know what we're talking about when we're working on it." Sorry, close-readers.

The album title, however, does take time and energy. Roulette demures with a "no comment" when pressed to discuss naming an album, but, again, Engles is ready to expound. "You think about it and stress about it because you know it's a big thing," he says.

So then what's it all about, you ask? What is a catch without arms? Or how do you catch without arms? Engles puts it, quite simply, as a moment when "you feel like you're put in a situation you're not prepared for. You only have the ability to try your best. We wanted to make something different from El Cielo, so this album is a catch without arms."

That's it. It's just that feeling that you're completely unprepared for something as the pendulum looms and the axe falls and the gavel drops and the clocks ticks and the last shovelfuls of dirt are thrown. It's that moment where something new is on the horizon, and…then? It's what keeps things interesting.

"I never really know what's going to come out next," says Roulette of the Dredg experience. "That's the good thing about it, you never really know what the fuck to expect."

So the next time Dredg hits a stage, watch for Hayes’ floating elbows and Campanella's evil grin. ‘Watch Engles as he struggles to keep his guitar from being borne away by the reverb and drift over the room with Roulette's eyes. Just keep your eyes peeled for that bottle of Febreze and the ribbon mic.

Related Links:

http://www.dredg.com

http://www.ollymoss.com

http://www.garylivingston.com

Additional Credits:

Assistant:

Stylist:

Make-up:

Equipment List: Nikon D2X