The band formed in Los Angeles two years back from the ashes of the Kankor Sores. They toured like hell, broke a bunch of stuff, bled a lot, and released a few 7-inches. All the time, they've been dodging a deluge of empty modifiers and flimsy comparisons from the press: Are they post-punk? Neo-hardcore? Noise-rock? Do they sound like the Stooges? At the Drive In? The Jesus Lizard? The answer to all of it is: not really. In fact, they don't quite sound --or look -- like anyone. Perpetually clad in black suits and blood-red ties, the Icarus Line's image, not to mention its stark-raving furious live shows, have inarguably set the band apart. "Kids usually look at us like we're from Mars," says Cardamone. "I think sometimes we offend them, 'cause they have a stank look on their face." Stank or not, the Icarus Line is definitely drawing blood -- most noticeably its own ("Last night, Aaron [North] fell through the stage," Cardamone deadpans). "Rock and roll has been so fake," he says. "We're trying to pick it up a little bit and play songs that are scary."
