Ezekiel Ox - Evolution of arevolutionary

Mon 5th Jun, 2006 in Features

“If you come to one of our shows you might not even like it, but guaranteed you’ll look. You’ll go, ‘What fucking bug is up that guy’s arse?’”

Every time charismatic frontman Ezekiel Ox steps on stage, it’s with his heart on his sleeve and his middle finger up.

Ezekiel Ox is an angry young man. His band of nine-and-a-half years, Full Scale, broke up in March this year as a result of litigation, mismanagement and in-fighting. They’d recently released their debut album, and had only just completed a promisingly successful six-month tour of the US. Given the chance, they would’ve returned to Melbourne as heavy metal heroes, and likely would have proceeded to tear the roof off the darker side of the Australian music scene. Alas, a multitude of obstacles stood in their way, much to the chagrin of the passionate and growing fan base that awaited them back home.

But that’s not why he’s angry. He’s angry because he sees injustice everywhere he looks. He was given the name ‘Ezekiel Ox’ by former band mates – his interpretation is “strong prophet”. Sleep-deprived and hung over, this 26-year-old hyperactivist pulls at his hair and gesticulates wildly as he paints a dreary picture: “It’s the same struggle the world over – the same ruling class isolating the same people so they can use them as part of the war machine to create more money for the rich man. I know it sounds like such a leftwing rant, like I’m some hippie uni student who’s just graduated and wants to talk about it, but these are facts. Right now in Australia, it’s pretty good if you’re white and you’re middle class, but at the same time they’re screwing minorities harder than they ever have before.”

In the past, Ox’s fire-filled belly belched its message of open-minded insurrection over the pounding drums and ripping guitars of Full Scale, in a similar style to Tool or Rage Against The Machine. Since his old soapbox collapsed, Ox has worked fervently to build others, most prominently his new band, Mammal.

Comprising members of Pete Murray’s touring band and local legends Jika, Mammal is only two months old, but you wouldn’t know it. “With Mammal, as opposed to Full Scale, there’s a lot more momentum, more spontaneity and musical energies. This one’s got more funk, and even jazz elements, where we can improvise and express ourselves on a different musical plane, which means that it’s developed really quickly. It just happened. We were writing two songs a day for a little while there.”

Having played Mammal’s first gig to a cacophonously appreciative audience only a few days before I spoke to him, Ox was psyched but sensible: “We know full well where we’ve gotta go from here – there’s an evolution that happens. There’s this real bubble of excitement at the moment. It’s up to us to take it to the next level. Six months from now we really should be blowing people’s heads off.”

Ox’s on-stage performance is quite a spectacle, which he considers an asset in terms of provoking thought in his audience. “If you come to one of our shows you might not even like it, but guaranteed you’ll look. You’ll go, ‘What fucking bug is up that guy’s arse?’”

However, after almost a decade of waxing maniacal, Ox has realised that “you can’t go burning down people’s houses, you’ve gotta be respectful. Everyone’s got their own headspace, their own trip…we’re all just trying to get by. I just try to talk about what’s really fucking important. I’ve gotta find a joyous way to engage people with those ideas, and not ram them down people’s throats.

“In the end, who knows…I could be fuckin’ wrong. Time will tell. But if I am, I’ll be loudly and vehemently wrong. I’m willing to hang myself on it, y’know?”