Igor Hubík: “Hunger, naivety and audacity? Those are precisely the main attributes of metal art.”

Igor Hubík has been part of the Czech metal scene for decades. In this interview for Rebel Sound, he looks back on joining ROOT, his work with HYPNOS, SOLFERNUS, EQUIRHODONT and RAVENOIR, as well as studio work, physical formats, songwriting, lyrics, and what metal means to him after all these years. Thirteen questions explore not only the history of the individual bands and projects, but also his personal approach to music, the bass guitar, image, and the very essence of metal life.

You joined ROOT around the turn of 1999 and 2000, entering a band that already had major albums behind it and a very strong identity of its own. Black Seal then became your first full-length studio album with ROOT. What was it like to step into an established organism with such a distinctive history? Do you remember the moment when you first stopped feeling like "the new member" and began to see ROOT as truly your own band?

In spring 1999, I received an offer from the founders of ROOT, Blackosh and Big Boss, to join the band for the summer festivals, with the first show being Noc plná hvězd in Třinec. More than ten thousand people in the audience and, just by the way, Mercyful Fate were headlining. I took some time to think it over, which amounted to about two seconds to draw breath and reply: "Holy shit!". At the same time, the new guitarist Ashok had already been in the band for a few weeks, and after two rehearsals we knew exactly where we stood. The quintet, with the brilliant drummer Evil, worked perfectly. I knew all ROOT albums, including the lyrics, by heart, and I was also there for the entire songwriting process of the then-emerging album "The Book" (which was officially released on the very day of the Třinec show). The guys knew very well that I could handle it, and above all they knew my approach to music and everything around it. We were all determined to push ROOT forward after a few weaker years, and the very first shows suggested that this was a band our scene would have to keep reckoning with. I became a fully fledged member a few minutes after the first show, when Big Boss personally handed me my fee and said it had been a blast.

Before ROOT, you had also played in Entrails and Inner Fear, for example. When you look back today at Igor in the 1990s, what was going through his head when he picked up an instrument? How much of that hunger, naivety, or perhaps audacity is still in you today, and what, on the other hand, had to disappear completely over the years?

INNER FEAR and ENTRAILS were black metal bands, so exactly my cup of tea. INNER FEAR was a very young group with a female keyboard player in the line-up, because it was one of the first bands playing what was then only just emerging as so-called symphonic black metal. But I was much more drawn to the music Blackie was preparing for the ENTRAILS project album. He invited me to join on bass. I also contributed a few riffs to the songs being written. To this day, many fans consider the album "Serpent Seed" one of the high points of the Czech extreme scene, because it is True Black Metal backed by raw, spontaneous and dirty production. Igor with a bass or guitar in the 1990s and Igor today basically has the same thing in his head. To coax out a few chords and satisfy that strange, slightly twisted yet beautiful desire for music  which, after the rehearsed parts have been played, might then continue with a goblet of wine in hand. Hunger, naivety and audacity? Those are precisely the main attributes of metal art. And I am a metal artist.

In extreme metal, the bass guitar is sometimes unfairly seen simply as an instrument that "holds down the low end". Over the decades, however, you have moved through music ranging from black metal and death metal to more progressive territory. What, in your view, separates a bassist who simply plays the part correctly from one whose personality can genuinely be heard on the recording? And where, in this respect, can Igor Hubík be heard most clearly?

Specifically in extreme metal, the bass is not perceived merely as the instrument that holds down the low end. Yes, when listening, most people mainly notice the guitar because it often carries the main melody, but the bass and drums are just as important in the many stop-time passages that give a song its memorable moments. There isn't a metal listener who doesn't know stop-time-driven hits such as "Raining Blood" or "Master of Puppets". Among the distinctive personalities with a style of their own, who have always made their bass parts stand out — whether through playing ability or simply an original distorted tone — are, for example, Angelripper, Cronos, Alex Webster and Steve DiGiorgio. You could also ask any of those gentlemen who the imaginary king of bass with an instantly recognisable sound is, and their answer would be unequivocal: Lemmy. I have no idea where I myself can be heard most clearly, but I know that I still like the bass parts and the sound of the instrument in, for example, "Strange Beauty of Fright" by ROOT. Recently I recorded bass for a cover version of "Hrabě X", whose bass part is legendary, just like the hit itself. On the surface, it seems to repeat the same thing over and over, but together with the other instruments and vocals it becomes a musical gem.

ROOT has an exceptionally distinctive signature sound, yet it has also gone through a number of line-ups and creative periods. What have you personally brought to its sound over more than a quarter of a century  not only as an instrumentalist, but also as someone behind the scenes? And is there a decision, idea or detail on any album that most fans have no idea actually came from you?

I've never thought about it that way. If I personally brought musical ideas that made sense, then they're on the records. In every line-up I was part of a team that functions as a whole. Nobody in front of the stage cares what happens backstage; what matters is what the band delivers. To tell the truth, I can't think of one specific idea that was mine. I'm sure there are more, but it's always more a matter of voicing an idea, the others in the band commenting on it, adding further ideas, and moving the whole thing even further. Like when the van suddenly gives up the ghost in Prague at night and there are still two hundred kilometres to Brno. One member after another throws out one idea after another, and suddenly we're sitting on a train. Inspiring.

On the one hand, you're the bassist in ROOT; on the other, you worked as a guitarist in Hypnos, and on the album Heretic Commando you even picked up an acoustic guitar. What changes in your musical thinking when you swap bass for guitar? Are you still the same musician, or does a completely different part of your personality wake up with another instrument?

I pick up the guitar more often, but I adore both instruments. The musical thinking is the same; it's just a different style of playing. Interestingly, when I play bass at home, I sit down, whereas with a guitar I always stand. I'm talking, of course, about electric paddles; with an acoustic guitar I sit as well. For HYPNOS, I also recorded a few gentle acoustic passages for the album "The Whitecrow". With ROOT, we even played live unplugged on acoustic guitars on Czech Television.

Solfernus gives you yet another kind of space — you're not only a player there, but also a guitarist, composer and lyricist. Is it more liberating for you to be part of a band where you carry a larger share of the creative responsibility, or can that freedom sometimes be harder than working within a world as strongly defined as ROOT's? What do you think Solfernus reveals about you that a ROOT listener would never discover?

The two outfits produce different music, and at least in terms of vocals the difference is striking. SOLFERNUS definitely drives much more brutal and faster music than ROOT, but even the blasphemous rabble can slow down and, on rare occasions, devote itself to listenable music. The lyrical concept is different too. In fact, if it weren't for me, it would have nothing to do with ROOT at all;-) Both SOLFERNUS and ROOT enjoy absolute creative freedom. Otherwise I wouldn't be there. And what does SOLFERNUS reveal about me? "My answer is NO!".

Equirhodont brought you, Big Boss, Ashok and other musicians together in a much more progressive space. When you place Equirhodont and ROOT side by side, are they two separate musical planets for you, or is there a hidden connection between them? And did your experience with Equirhodont change the way you think about harmony, atmosphere, or the role of the bass itself?

Given the three people involved, the connection isn't exactly well hidden, but that they are two separate musical planets is obvious from the very first listen. This is music that demands several very focused listens. The second album, "Black Crystal", in particular received excellent reactions even from musicians outside the metal scene. We each left a piece of ourselves on that record, and the recording and production alone, for example, cost Ashok half of the mental strength no one will ever give back to him;-) For me it was a masterclass in studio work, and recording the bass in particular was quite a problem because, although we had borrowed an instrument with an excellent sound, it wasn't exactly perfectly set up, so some frets were often out of tune. At the time, I thought that after the last recorded note I would smash the borrowed Fender to splinters. Both EQUIRHODONT albums are desperately missing a vinyl edition, so hopefully we'll get one someday.

In recent years, you've also been heavily involved in Ravenoir — not only on bass, but also as a lyricist on some songs. What keeps you creatively alert in this project? When you write lyrics for music whose main author is someone else, do you try to enter their world, or do you need to smuggle a piece of your own vision of darkness into the song instead?

Back in the days when ROOT were very active, guitarist AD kept talking more and more often about preparing a noticeably heavier new project under the working title Rook, and he approached me for the bass position. I was very curious about his brand-new venture, and the very first demos pleased me, not least because it was brisk death metal. One of our best drummers, Patrik Sas, took the drum stool, and at that point I already knew it was going to be an extremely pleasant affair. Alesh asked me for some lyrics, so I wrote verses for a track called "Ravenoir". He liked the lyrics, and especially the title, so much that a few days later he told me the name of the new project: RAVENOIR. On some lyrics I had completely free rein; on others, AD would suggest the theme. One of the high points of our collaboration is perhaps the darkest and slowest opus magnum, "Alter Ego". We record the guitars and bass in Alesh's home studio, which is naturally called Studio Ravenoir in the album booklets. You can't go wrong with words.

You founded Lava Productions and released, among other things, archival material by ROOT and Krabathor, so you also came to know music from the perspective of someone dealing with physical formats, rights, distribution and the preservation of history. What did that experience teach you about the value of music beyond the stage itself? And in the streaming era, does a physical record still have the value of a document that can outlive its time?

It is precisely in the streaming era that the importance of physical formats is emphasised not only by the labels themselves, which use that same streaming space to visually present their LPs and CDs, especially when it comes to a special collector's box. I can confirm that releasing physical formats is a thorny road paved with the best intentions. Besides the old ROOT and KRABATHOR demos released as 2CD sets, after many years I reissued the sold-out SOLFERNUS "Hysteria in Coma" and ROOT "Black Seal" CDs under the Lava Productions banner as beautiful digipacks with complete lyrics and extensive photo material. I've heard many stories about the death of physical formats, and every one of them was made up. My collection keeps growing, and there is a whole army of us like that.

What's fascinating about you is that you once ran the Krabathor fan club, wrote about metal and conducted interviews, so you've experienced the other side of music journalism as well. When you sit opposite a journalist today as the musician being interviewed, what tells you within the first two questions that they have genuinely done their homework? And, conversely, what question reliably convinces you that you're reading or hearing the same interview for the hundredth time?

It moves me that after all these years someone would describe those activities as fascinating. We give interviews to different countries, and underground fanzines in particular sometimes have an added value in the form of a certain philosophy of the publisher, who is usually also the only editor and therefore his own editor-in-chief. Especially there, the questions often repeat themselves almost word for word, but that's mainly because they may be writing about the band for the first time and certainly don't know us the way most Czech editors and photographers do, whom we regularly meet in person. I think it works both ways. When a well-prepared journalist comes across an interviewee who, for whatever reason, simply isn't in the mood, the result is unlikely to be compelling reading.

In an older interview, you said that image is just as important to a band as the music itself. Does that still hold true for you today, when image is often created not onstage or on an album cover, but every day on social media? Where, in your view, does a musician's authentic face end and the marketing role demanded by today's music world begin?

Karel Gott changed outfits several times during a concert, and female fans from the age of five to one hundred and five could go wild. Combined with his vocal skills, he always gave his performance added value in the form of the highest possible social standard. I don't know who your favourites are, but I'd bet my neck that you know KISS. At the very least, you've seen a photo or a video by BEHEMOTH. You've certainly heard a few words about RAMMSTEIN, or you may even know someone who recently went to the cinema to see GHOST. There is no such thing as today's music world. It's still the same, and alongside the music people want a concept and a visual identity. That's why they pay expensive ticket prices for bands that look like something. A bum with a barrel organ on the street pushes bad music on passers-by while looking like an idiot. KISS set the ticket price, and there are always plenty of people who can't even get into the sold-out stadium. So do music and image go hand in hand or not?

You have decades on the metal scene behind you, hundreds of concerts, several bands, and a behind-the-scenes view of the music industry. After all that time, what can still bring back that very first feeling of excitement about music? Is there anything completely outside metal that you use to "clear your head", so that music never becomes just work, routine or obligation?

Music itself still gives me exactly the same pleasure; there is no question of any initial excitement  unless I'm still being haunted by that initial excitement. One thought by František Štorm has stayed in my head: long ago, he wrote that if someone devotes themselves to this kind of music after the age of thirty, we're talking about mental retardation. I agree, and fortunately I'm not alone in it. I've always known that these strange rituals must never become routine, let alone an obligation. I like to clear my head by playing hockey, which becomes a major challenge with each passing year. Before I head off to the rink with a big bag and hockey stick, I put on something heavier for the journey, a hit like "Iron Fist", "K.I.N.G." or "War Ensemble", so once again I have musical energy at my back. I also unwind well by watching films, football and hockey… And, of course, by strumming the guitar.

And finally: if you could set aside the names ROOT, Solfernus, Hypnos, Equirhodont, Ravenoir and every other item in your discography and simply speak to people as Igor Hubík, what would you like to say to the fans who have followed you for decades, to young people who are only discovering your music today, and to Rebel Sound readers? And what would you like people to remember about you one day, when the number of albums and concerts no longer counts?

To everyone who has devoted their life to this kind of music, all I can do is wish them good luck if they occasionally find themselves misunderstood by those around them. I thank the readers of Rebel Sound for reading the interview. There is no need to say anything to those who have followed us for a longer time, because they understand us. Cheersix-six-six!

These thirteen questions have taken us through more than a quarter of a century with ROOT, other projects, studio work, label experience and a view of today's music world. Freedom, energy, physical formats and the conviction that music must never become routine or obligation return again and again in the answers. The interview therefore closes just as directly as it unfolded: with thanks to Rebel Sound readers and the sign-off Cheersix-six-six!

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