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HOME TOWN: Minneapolis, MN
Aaron Weseman - Vocals
Joel Johnson - Guitar
Tara Johnson - Bass
Charlie Johnson - Guitar
Joel Andersen - Drums

The combination of metal and hardcore owes a huge debt to Disembodied, a band who made basements, VFW halls and loosely organized festivals their home long before amphitheaters and energy drinks came calling to their scene. Sure, crucially important bands like Cro-Mags and Integrity pioneered the style, but Disembodied took "metalcore" to uncharted depths of sheer heaviness and unbridled brutality.
Two full-length albums, (1997's Diablerie and 1999's Heretic), together with a handful of EPs, compilation appearances and a live performance that jettisoned the conventions of the day formed a body of work that altered perceptions in the scene around the world. Theirs is a legacy that has begged to be finished since the band dissolved in the late '90s. And now the band who was undeniably shaped by the harsh, cold and isolated Minnesota winter has returned to wreak all new devastation upon true believers and unsuspecting listeners weaned on lesser bands alike.

And how did this heralded reemergence of Disembodied come about? With an email...

Brian Peterson, a freelance writer who grew up in the hardcore scene, had set about chronicling the genre's '90s exploits with a book called Burning Fight. He reached out separately to Aaron (vocals), Tara (guitar) and Justin (drums) individually about interviews. They hadn't spoken to each other in years.
"I don't know how Brian got a hold of everybody. He gave me their email addresses. I emailed Justin just to say 'hi,'" Tara explains. "I had talked sporadically to him over the years. I hadn't really seen Aaron. And then Brian emailed us and told us he was thinking of doing a show for the book. I never, ever thought we'd play another show. It wasn't even in the back of my mind. People had asked before and I was like, 'Oh, yeah, that's never happening.' Just because we hadn't spoken."

The band members kept talking and suddenly everyone was onboard. They all met up for dinner to talk about it and decided then and there to give it a go, as the band never had a "proper" final show. They hadn't played their songs in nearly a decade, so they started rehearsing. "We all got along," Tara says. "Everybody had grown up and was more mature. Once we played Chicago and just looked at each other on stage we just had the same passion we had before. We were like 'Fuck it, let's do another record!'"

Disembodied never chased the "big time" nor expected to be a popular band. It was about the experience -- traveling, meeting new people, living on $5 per day in their twenties. And now that they have returned, they have even less intention of fitting in with scene trends.

"We're not trying to play what's cool. We never did and we never will. You'll never hear 'singing' in Disembodied. You're still going to hear the slow and the heavy," Tara promises.

Disembodied's return is marked by one single, solitary, unifying theme: to make "the heaviest record ever recorded." They aren't looking to cash in, become "rock stars" or even quit their day jobs. And it's that type of focus and lack of careerist aspirations that will allow them to retain the purity in their sound and vision, which is what so many people connected with when they were together the first time. Disembodied understands how important a band can be to someone and they respect and value that connection.

"Unbroken was the same way for me," Tara says. "They impacted my life at a time when I really needed something to catch on to. Even though it seems sad and depressing and angry, if you can relate to it, it changes your life. I think that music can do that to people. It can save your life. I think it saved mine."

Look for brand new Disembodied music on Good Fight Music in 2010.