Protomartyr on NFL Blitz

After loading in the gear and staking out our territory in this small blank room (Alex in the far corner with drums, Greg hugging the southwest wall with his amps, Scott's bass rig humming in the opposite corner, me lingering by the door) we stared at the floor in awkward silence. I don't remember who first suggested it, one of the smarter members of Protomartyr I'm sure; but by the next practice, where once there was nothing, there now sat an old television and a Nintendo 64 with one game sticking out of the top - Midway's NFL Blitz. From then on the creative flow ran unabated, the writing process went smoothly, and petty disagreements vanished. I'd like to credit our innate talent or the fact that we are considered, among ourselves, as being the best band on earth as the reasons things worked out the way they did. But no, it was that silly, wonderful game that made writing and recording our new album happen the way it did.

NFL Blitz began, as all great video games of that era, as an arcade game in 1997. It would eventually be ported to home video systems like the Nintendo 64 and become a huge best-seller in the American market. Like its spiritual cousin NBA Jam, which was also created by Midway, what makes the game work is its irreverent disregard for the rules and norms of both the sport it's supposedly portraying and reality itself. In the world of Blitz football players behave more like wrestling heels and polygonal cartoons, smashing into each other with exaggerated finishing moves and getting smashed like pancakes in a glorious digital splatter. Ridiculous plays either always work or never do. The clock runs unmercifully fast, warping time and boiling down "football" to its basest components. It was the late 90s, so the soundtrack is a straight Jock Jams, Hi-NRG cacophony. Also, because it was the 90s, the players yawp and chatter with the kind of vocal impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger that every teenage boy thought was funny at the time. They even cuss!

Why this rudimentary video game was chosen by the members of Protomartyr as their stress reliever I'll never know for certain, for I never played it with the band. The Blitz sessions began during the grueling writing process Greg, Alex, and Scott undertook last year. Since it was the first time our history where all the members were unemployed, the band would spend a full workday in the practice space grinding out parts of songs, jamming into the ether, and formulating the musical attack. I was probably off doing what lead singers do. I would spend my days listening to their phone-recorded demos, literally and figuratively navel-gazing, looking out the window in consternation, or napping.

When I did show up at the space for my work I would catch snippets of conversions regarding the game. Greg mostly played as the Lions, our hometown team. Alex and Scott would usually play as the Green Bay Packers, since Scott's dad was from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, making that Wisconsin team a family favorite. Even though Greg was double-teamed, he often won in the earlier days. The other guys blamed the games wonky mechanics that seemed to favor a single player with more sacks and fumbles. Greg had spent solitary time in the space creating his own personalized plays with colorful names that all seemed to reference his inflated opinion of his own genitalia. The Packers duo had refined their skills and were now besting Greg and his dick jokes. Greg blamed the game mechanics. Months rolled by like this - the creative chore of trying to mine musical gold out of hours of rehearsal leavened by a video game rivalry that seemed from the outsider's perspective to be great heap of fun.

The Nintendo 64 came along with us to Los Angeles when we recorded Relatives In Descent in March of this year. So did the rivalries and the thrown controllers, the hilarious name-calling and the laughter. All off this while I was trying to fulfill my lead singer duty of napping and barely lifting a finger. Had they ever asked me to play? Maybe in the early days before I became consumed with lyric writing and more napping. They might have asked me after practice once or twice, I can't remember. Later on when I felt compelled to join in the fraternity and good feeling they informed me the fourth controller was broken in a very tense game. Didn't I see friends and random hangers-on at a later date play two-on-two with this supposedly broken controller? The game that was so vital in the mental health of the band was foreign to me. It was a mystery I had to solve to stave off the nagging feeling I was missing out.

Since I am the lead singer in Protomartyr I am often saddled with the duty of being interviewed by music journalists. I also religiously read the reviews of our albums written by music journalists. I decided to take that experience and what I had learned from reading modern day music journalism and apply it to NFL Blitz. What follows is, I think, an enlightening take on the inner workings of the band and the final word on their relationship to NFL Blitz that will be poured over, retweeted, and hailed as the definitive, seminal voice on the matter.

As I approached Protomartyr's practice space I could hear the sounds of men yelling and the piston-like churn of a video game blaring from some desolate television. It reminded me of the sound of workers in a bombed-out automobile factory and, I dunno...Manchester. I entered the room and turned on my recorder in hopes of finally understanding why these men from the so-called "Paris of the Midwest" would play NFL Blitz. Would I get answers or would I end up like one of the barfly characters that appear in every single one of their songs - alone and shabbily Midwestern?

JOE (over the sounds of the game): Do you have favorite teams that you play with?

GREG (while trying to execute a play): Ah...(expletive)! Yeah. It used to be the Lions but they aren't that good in this game.

SCOTT: It used to be the Packers. But we switch it up.

JOE (showing knowledge of the NFL): I see that it's the Raiders and the Vikings now?

GREG: Yeah, but we don't endorse these teams.

SCOTT: Hey, I like the Raiders. Raider Nation...

They drift off into a deafening silence as their focus turns towards the game and away from the probing, intelligent questions.

JOE: I know you're probably sick of this question... but do you see a connection between this game and uh, living in Detroit?

GREG (taking the bait): Oh, absolutely! Oh (expletive)! Oh (expletive)!

ALEX (making a play): (croaking laughter)

GREG (continuing): You know, life is good and then you throw an interception.

SCOTT (philosophically): It's like Greg just got his windows broken but we just got a new ride. We stole Greg's car.

GREG: Yeah. As in Blitz and Detroit, there are winners and losers.

Oh, I think I have my headline!

JOE: I notice the players are made of polygons. Kind of angular, much like your music?

GREG: It's true! Oh, I thought you might have asked about abandoned buildings?

JOE (thinking on my feet): Yeah, I did.

ALEX: (croaking laughter) Wide open!

Another spate of intense gamesmanship.

GREG: And much like Detroit, Blitz has a lot of delusional people that think they can win the game (gesturing to Alex and Scott).

SCOTT: Yeah, delusional Lions fans.

JOE: Greg, are you using your special plays?

GREG: Yes, I am using the Big (expletive) Shuffle. But they have learned how to finally play this game after, like, four thousand tries and now I can't beat them that way.

JOE: How long was your streak?

SCOTT: (expletive)!

GREG: (expletive)!

More silent game play, that nearly envelopes this interviewer in a feeling of utter darkness -similar to the glacial post-punk of their records.

GREG (stoically): Now these two destroy me because they play as a team.

SCOTT: We've never been stronger. (expletive)! Dude.

ALEX: Hurgh!

GREG: Something wrong, fellas?

JOE: Do you think the repetitive nature of this soundtrack inspired the writing of the album?

ALEX (honestly): That is a very insightful question.

GREG: Oh yes, without question. As did the buff polygons. Watch me beat the (expletive) out of them here.

Greg's player misses a pass. I am utterly baffled.

GREG (yelling): You catch that pass when I throw it to you!

ALEX: (croaking laughter) Who are you yelling at, Greg?

GREG: Just like the city of Detroit, I've been known for a comeback!

They all start yelling at once. I am lost in the sheer wordiness of their yelling.

SCOTT (yelling): Bull (expletive)! Bull (expletive)!

ALEX (yelling): Hurgh!

GREG: Sickest pass ever! Sickest pass ever!

He does a sensual, celebratory dance in his chair, which confuses me more.

GREG: They might not give me the field goal because the game is glitchy and broken.

SCOTT: Detroit.

GREG: Much like our music. Gritty. And you're kind of like the announcers on the game.

JOE (thankful): Yeah, I noticed that. Poetic. Pretty poetic. It has kind of a sing-speak to it.

GREG: Yeah, he sounds a lot like you.

SCOTT: Or Ian Curtis.

Sensing a breakthrough amid the murkiness I decide to make my move.

JOE: You guys think I can play next game?

ALEX (looking at the ceiling): ...

SCOTT: Don't you have to go home? I mean, you kept saying earlier you had important band stuff to do at home.

GREG: This thing, it's not for everybody. Sorry.

Greg ended up winning the game. But who fucking cares, right? I was plunged into the myopic, cerebral world of the band Protomartyr playing NFL Blitz and I didn't get any answers. What's worse, they seemed to not care about my questions and they sometimes meandered into what I saw as personal attacks. It's like when a band that is supposed to only sound one way changes their sound a little bit. Utter horseshit! I didn't understand any part of the game!

RATING: 5.368 out of a possible 7.6000