BIOGRAPHY

Hacksaw To The Throat, a band located in the San Francisco bay area, is based on the concept of constant change. The band started as a two-person grind project, which evolved into a four person death metal act, which then evolved into the not-readily-classifiable band it is today. Hacksaw's influences range widely, from metal bands such as Slayer, Testament, The Haunted, Pig Destroyer, Cryptopsy and Dissection, to bands such Radiohead, Majority Rule, Opeth, Fugazi, Bjork, Mike Patton, Black Flag and even stretching to a diverse selection of jazz musicians. The unique blend of influences leads to music that is difficult to categorize, and while Hacksaw's debut album, "Tear My Eyes Out..." could be characterized as a melodic thrash-grind, the band has become much more experimental with many songs and ideas both inside and outside the boundaries of contemporary extreme music.

The band has worked hard to promote themselves by playing lots of shows in and around the SF bay area, doing as much traveling as possible and selling copies of their album in stores and at shows. "Tear My Eyes Out..." has received an amazing response both inside and outside the metal/hardcore community, and has helped Hacksaw develop a strong following within the bay area, but they wish to spread their music much further. Hacksaw To The Throat is looking for promoters, venues and labels who would like to support a very talented, original and powerful extreme band that is always looking for ways to grow as song writers, musicians and artists.

Current lineup:

Ben Caragol: Guitar and Vocals
Justin Hughes: Drums
Victor Dods: Guitar
Lumpy Stapley: Bass

MEMBERS

Lumpy Stapley was born in the bayou of Mississippi, was raised on crawdads and learned to play the banjo from his grandpappy, Lumpford "The Heat" Stapley. "The Heat" showed Lumpy how to play banjo on crocodile ribs with his teeth, "because if you can play it there, you can play it anywhere," his ol' pappy said. One day Lumpy was practicing the sacred Mormon ritual of taking two dead squirrels and putting a little tuxedo on one and a wedding dress on the other, and was duct-taping their faces together so they were kissing -- this was gorgeous, but the southern locals didn't take kindly to this sort of "fancy behavin". Fortunately while our good friend Teddy Honey was trainhoppin in the deep south, he ran across our hero and saved Mr. Stapley by throwing him onto a freight train headed for Oaktown, Californ-I-A. The modern phenomenon known only as 'Mississippi Anal Rodriguez' was born out of blood and fire during our protagonist's dive into an existential depression which was triggered by the accidental, voracious consumption of post-ejaculatory anal discharge. Lumpy's venture into logical positivism begun when Teddy Honey introduced him to the syncopated grindcore -- tragic -- band known as "Hacksaw To The Throat." The members of Hacksaw were duly impressed by his advanced facial expressions and let him into the band for the paltry sum of 10 handjobs. Each.	Lumpy "The Heat, Jr." Stapley: Bass
Ben "My Shirley Temple Isn't Strong Enough" Caragol: Guitar and vocals	One of the co-founders of the "Reasons Why I Want To Punch You In The Face" Club, Benjamin Caragol has expertise in the punching of one's own face. But before getting too specific, a brief overview of the history of this particular denizen is in order. About 3,000,000 years ago, give or take 2.999.980 years, the demigods Phil and Suzy Caragol summoned their immortal powers to create a being which would bring an end to all war, poverty, and suffering, beginning a new era of enlightenment. Unfortunately they screwed up the chant somewhere along the line and all they got was Ben Caragol. Although he can't shoot beams of energy from his hands or use telekenesis to burst the innards of his enemies, or survive in the vacuum of space, or lift a mountain with one arm, or turn lead into gold, he does have the rather impressive ability to turn an entire Denny's Lumberjack Slam into feces. Just as an example of Ben's extreme brutality, he once ventured 2,600 leagues up a mountain in Santa Cruz, and once arriving at the top, proceeded to climb a tree which was 63,000 feet tall and 800 feet in diameter. Ben did not slow his ascent, despite being killed 2 or 3 times along the way. Upon reaching the top, he triumphantly screamed "Let's Go!" and proceeded to do a cannonball from the top of the tree. Ben plummetted earthward for 6 fortnights, and upon finally impacting the unsuspecting planet, he created a crater which was 500 feet deep. The ground around him started being pulled into the hole with him just like a carpet, until eventually the entire county was sucked up into the hole. The End.
Justin Tyler Hughes is a man that strives to make the most perpendicular, perpendicular, hippopotamus, hippopotamus beats found anywhere in the one-trip-let two-trip-let fuck-you-die fuck-you-die. Inventor of "bossanova grind," Justin is particularly adept at inspiring violence in all who hear his legendary pterodactyl scream. The drummitude that this man lays down is so visceral that even my grandmother would start moshing should she venture within earshot. Justin's favorite activities include long walks on the beach, holding hands, watching sunsets while wearing a cardigan sweater and masturbating so hard that it appears he is punching himself in the nuts. Once, while performing at a Hacksaw show several thousand years ago in the great valley now known as "Sacramento," Justin was attempting to maximize his level of "chi" and in doing so, filled the immediate area with the energistic form of rage and ecstacy. The onlookers were confused and afraid. They started running counterclockwise in a circle, pushing one another, occasionally delivering punches to the face. Mr. Hughes' beat intensified, and the vortex of insanity reached a critical mass. Suddenly, in the heat of the moment, Justin's hand erratically deflected off one of the cymbals, causing a large cut to open. Due to his blood pressure of approximately 1360 times that of Earth's atmosphere, blood shot out, not unlike water from a bursting dam. Unfortunately, Justin's extremely high level of chi had caused his blood to be heated to a temperature sufficient to melt lead. Superheated blood filled the area, and everyone was killed. The blood quickly coagulated, and the participants of the violent circle were encased, frozen in their ecstatic rage for all eternity. The ancient and wise native people of the area found the circle many centuries later, and dubbed it "Mosh E Tonkua" which meant "Circle of Passion". And that, my friends, is where the "Mosh Pit" originated. This ancient ritual is not practiced as commonly as it once was, but Mosh Pits of the highest intensity can be still be found, inspired only by a select few, who keep the tradition alive today.	Justin "Vulture-Looking-Motherfucker" Hughes: Drums
Victor "THE Lord Of Boof" Dods: Guitar	The human entity known as Victor Dods was first identified in a slimy cocoon floating around in the murky algae infested waters of Camino Sobrante. After many decades of festering in wet swarminess, Victor decided to pry his way out of the cocoon and make his way into civilization. He proceeded to waddle naked into the village of Orinda; however, he was unable to converse with any of the natives because he was only able to communicate in strings of binary numbers and an odd morse-code like system of masturbratory spasms. After a series of failed attempts at trying to establish a common ground with the locals, he befriended Michael Tiner who saw talent in his ejaculatory convulsions and encouraged him to bring them to their fullest potential in a band called BOOF. After growing tired of playing the same 3 chords of "butt cheeks akimbo" for ten years, Victor decided he was better off in the complete seclusion of the dark woods of Satan Cruz. One night, in the midst of a particularly blasphemous ritual, he was able to get the moonlight of the annual Scrotumnal Equinox to deflect off of his pasty naked body. This resulted in a nuclear force that he chanelled into the semi-permeable membranes of 2 nearby trees, which both tumbled downwards with an apocalyptic rumble. He used the midnight bloodfeast knife to whittle the huge hulking pieces of lumber down to the form of the electric guitars known as BESSIE and EXCALIBUR, and he forged his own whammy bars and humbucker pickups out of the entrails of a small skunk-like creature that erupted with huge expulsions of gaseous anal nitrate while performing oral servitude on his personage. Victor currently resides in a 200 foot tree that contains all of the necessary elements to build ACMs (AUTOMATIC COITUS MACHINES) and gestate entire farms and plantations of dick-babies.

Website maintained by Victor Dods