Justin Stewart Cotta – Vocals, Piano, Guitar Space - guitars Steve Clark – drums Lats – bass
It’s unwritten rock law that every up-and-coming band must kick, scratch and claw its way to a record contract. But few groups have taken that mandate as literally as Los Angeles quartet Memento, who landed a major label deal after taking the stage at an L.A. club and refusing to give it back. Recalls singer Justin Stewart Cotta, “We were five songs into our set at the Dragonfly, when a heckler foolishly decided to climb on stage and stake a claim to the space that was rightfully ours at the time. So I threw one fairly solid punch to his chest, which sent him flying off the stage—which is fairly high—and flat on his ass.” ”Unfortunately, it didn’t end there,” muses drummer Steve Clark. “Within seconds, the guy’s friends pounced on Justin, the set stopped and a full-out brawl ensued. It got pretty gnarly.” But by bleeding for their art, the band unknowingly attracted the attention of a few record company execs, who were sitting ringside and taking in the action. “It turned out there were some important people in the crowd,” laughs Justin, “and they loved the drama and the fact that we were willing to defend our territory without backing down. We signed with Columbia shortly afterward.”
Justin and Steve’s first show of strength came months earlier, when the pair left the comfort and security of an already signed band—Elektra recording artists Vast—to start the process anew. Though worlds apart on paper—Steve is an Orange County, Cali kid with a background steeped in jazz and Justin is an Aussie native raised on a steady diet of AC/DC, Elvis and classical piano — they bonded over their common reverence for bands like U2, Alice in Chains and Tool. Eventually, the duo began writing, recording and plotting their escape. “We’d record in hotel rooms using a digital 8-track and the stuff sounded great,” recalls Steve. “So we decided to leave Vast, form our own band and do it right. I will admit, however, that it was a bit a scary at first. You’re sitting on this million dollar tour bus and you know the decision you’re making will put you back at square one, loading your own gear in and out of small clubs while you try and land a record deal all over again. But we were confident in the material and knew that we were going to make something real.”
They went Down Under to round out the lineup, recruiting Lats, ex-bassist for popular metal Aussie act Devolved, and guitarist Space, Justin’s former bandmate from Gold Coast rock band Tower. Grueling eight-day weeks and 25-hour workdays followed, as the new band sweated song ideas and sharpened its sound. Says Steve, “We knew it wouldn’t be an easy ride. The Los Angeles music scene is exceptionally tough, and you need to do something really amazing to get noticed.” Hungry and hot-wired, the quartet descended on the club circuit with fangs-out ferocity and rage. Within a matter of weeks, they were on the radar screen of just about every A&R person in town. Laughs Justin, “We did our best to level the room at every show. I guess it paid off.”
Justin and crew capture the lightning in a bottle-like intensity of their live shows with debut disc beginnings, a tangled power surge of raw nerves and amped fever dreams. Produced by Toby Wright (Alice in Chains, Korn) and mixed by Brendan O’Brien (Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Stone Temple Pilots), the album is both right on target and left of center, fusing the sonic hallmarks of classic heavy rock with twisted modern textures. “From a production standpoint, this is a dream album,” says Steve. “Our songs have Toby Wright’s sounds as mixed by Brendan O’Brien. It doesn’t get much better than that.” Adds Space, “There are a lot of different styles and moods on the record and Brendan did an amazing job of making the whole thing sound seamless. He really gave the album clarity. And Toby has a great passion for music and an amazing ear. His suggestions helped immensely.”
One of Wright’s bright ideas was to bring in Grammy and Academy Award-winning composer/arranger David Campbell, whose credits include collaborations with everyone from Linkin Park and Goo Goo Dolls to the Rolling Stones and (his son) Beck. On “Beginnings,” “Blister” and the epic “Figure 8,” Campbell wraps lush strings around Memento’s massive, hook-laden crunch. The stunning juxtaposition of styles is an adventurous earful that hits all the pleasure centers. “Hearing those songs played back with the added strings of a full orchestra was an emotionally powerful moment,” says Steve. “I’ll never forget that feeling.”
Key to Memento’s exhilarating and dense, melodic sound is Space, who, like a filmmaker, uses shades of dark and light to evoke images that thrill and chill. Citing influences ranging from The Edge and Jimi Hendrix to Mike Oldfield's 1973 groundbreaking album Tubular Bells, the guitarist employs layers of ethereal effects and multi-textured tones to add depth and color to the diamond-hard rhythms of Steve and Lats. At the center of this searing soundscape is Justin, singing soul-baring songs that channel a personal and collective hurt. He recognizes and cauterizes the pain of father-son warfare, rape and psychosis through confessional-confrontational lyrics of fragile beauty and monolithic power. Says Space, “I remember walking over to Justin’s vocal booth after everything was done and there was broken glass and broken chairs strewn all around. It was pretty indicative of the passion Justin puts into the vocals and melodies and lyrics. It looked like WW III hit the studio.”
In “Stare,” Justin recalls the trauma of a childhood friend, who took her own life after years of sexual abuse. “I was 11 years old,” he says. “My granddad and I found her hanging from a tree. Her eyes were open. She used her dog’s leash and the dog was running around in circles beneath her feet. It was something that haunted me for a long time.” In galvanic lead single “Nothing Sacred,” in which he also plays piano, Justin confronts and takes ownership of his fears; in the anthemic “Saviour,” about abandonment, he sings to both the deliverer looking in and the victim reaching out, then grapples to stave off inner demons in “Coming.” “The songs are like chapters of a life,” says Justin. “You ride this emotional rollercoaster hoping it will lead to an eventual catharsis. But then you reach the last song, ‘Figure 8,’ and find that you’re caught in a loop.” A jaw-dropping labyrinthine 12-minute-plus epic, “Figure 8” revolves around moody atmospherics and speaker-altering noise, interspersed with atom-smashing guitars, dynamic rhythms and angst-tinged vocal outbursts. Says Justin, “That song is about the healing process of making your demons your friends and forgiving. But to forgive, you must re-live it all, so you can never really let go.”
“It’s a diverse, emotional album,” says Steve. “I’ve never liked linear records with one lyric all the way through or played in the same key or same tempo from start to finish. So I really felt a sense of pride when I listened back to this album for the first time. It’s like life—it takes you on a journey."