The evening light vanished with the sunrise faster than I expected. I relied on the upcoming fall season to answer my curiosity of the sun’s swift exit into the night. If the highway was a tad more hectic, my next move would’ve been to exit on to the congested city streets and zig-zag through Deep Ellum, only to spill out onto Haskell Ave and cruise south. Although there was the usual traffic, the night fall hypnotized the residential motorists to call it night and head home. This gave room for the restless night owls to zip between the lanes on the highway with screeching tires and obnoxious exhaust pipes. My eyes were chasing the lights that illuminated the outline of Dallas’ skyscrapers while maintaining focus on the road. There was plenty of time for me to gaze at the same lights that flow through the memories of life for another night. I was on another journalistic mission on this side of DFW; Soledad’s band practice.

Cold alkaline water rushed from the bottle opening into the dehydrated abyss, prior to that I was parched. I executed a right turn and proceeded southbound. Urban street lamps exposed the imperfections of the pavement with it’s signature, monochromatic, yellow-orange glow. The shadows of the past greeted me as I lowered my window to take a deep breath of the neighborhood air. With a ten mile radius in every direction, these shadows held secrets, forgotten secrets, forbidden secrets, mournful secrets. No matter the absence of the light, through the darkest blue minute, I was able to tell where I was. My memories in the city didn’t fail me, and they never will, regardless of the distance. This specific area catered to my good times with local Hispanic/Mexican youth years ago; smoking blunts in one of the three surrounding parks, on a casual stroll through the neighborhood with a 40oz in hand watching the long body cars and modified trucks go by, blaring southern rap from their subwoofers. This was around the time I discovered bandana designed house shoes. Hesitation was non-existent when purchasing the blue bandana house shoes. I wore those shoes to the ground, to the point of no return.

If it wasn’t confusion that occupied my thoughts, it was the lack of awareness that cause sudden misdirection. For a split second I was lost, temporarily. A shift in consciousness occurred as the distance between me and the red and blue lights moving erratically in the evening air decreased. I shook my head as I zoomed passed the all black Dallas PD SUV and two young adults, who were previously occupying a white mid size sedan, now sitting on the curbside. Minutes later, I took a left turn in the neighborhood. The GPS on my phone indicated that I was several hundred feet away to my left but all I was able to see was an empty grass lot. I called Eddie Tatum a couple of times to confirm the location before I realized that my GPS was accurate. For whatever reason, I had the extremely brief assumption that this was a prank and I was sent to an empty piece of land. In an instant, my brain became awake with awareness and notice the location, I’m glad my assumption was wrong. In the same moment, Eddie called me back to ridicule my assumption, unbeknownst to him. After pulling into the non-existent drive way. I was greeted by Eddie, Robert, Robert Clark from Gagging Order and Zach. For a brief moment, I was curious about Zach’s sleep schedule. From as far as I know, he is in three active bands. I figured if he is up at this time with a ton of more energy to practice then he is similar to a machine. Robert asked if I needed any help with my camera equipment and I took him up on the offer. I couldn’t help but to notice his undeniable Mexican facial features that was worn with pride and tradition. I was able to tell how deep the roots of his heritage runs through his blood.

Majority of the houses in neighborhood were built in the 1940’s and 1950’s. Some have been renovated to keep up with modern times, but nonetheless held its original characteristics. The same applied to the practice spot and within seconds I discovered that this was Robert’s home. At roughly 589 square feet, Robert’s bachelor pad is the perfect size for a kickback with a handful of good friends and a few cases of beer. The exterior of the pad held its characteristics in the same light as the rest of the neighborhood. The distinctive metal gate door matches the primary color of the house, with its grey roof that serves as the contrast. A quick glance would conclude that the house is some sort of secret establishment that only allows a handful of members at a time. As I began lay my camera equipment on the available floor space, I noticed the refreshing central air system, blowing cool air that fill the room with constantly moving occupants. If I was a single man with no child, this house would fit my needs to perfection.

A few conversations took place followed by an herbal session before a familiar, masculine voice entered the space, it was Andy. With another case of beer in hand, Andy arrived with the reduced energy of a long work day trailing behind. The distinction in his voice has an unforgettable characteristic: relatively deep voice, with his signature raspy overtone, a bit of Southern twang drizzled with Latin flavor. A few more moments passed through time before I was about to witness the band practice for the first time. The actual practice room was occupied by four towering figures, and fitting everyone plus one additional person with camera equipment reached maximum capacity. As the guys began to set up, I was experiencing technical difficulties with the lighting equipment. Eventually, I made the decision to ditch the equipment and use the led lights that outlined the ceiling and the corners of the room. As the first note was played, I quickly jammed the ear plugs into my ears to avoid hearing damage. I was amazed that the band members had no concern to wear anything to protect their ears. At this point in life, I assumed that those who don’t wear ear plugs have ear drums of steel. Soledad begins their version of the Tiny Desk concert series: East Dallas edition. The sheer heaviness behind their riffs captivated my consciousness and filled me with excitement; this is authentic ass beater music. I imagine Soledad being the sound track of the world’s apocalyptic end as zombies tear humans apart and the world is melting away from the eruption of Yellowstone. There were a handful of moments that I wanted to drop everything and mosh the night away as Eddie continued to crank out monstrous riffs. From the beat of the drums, the riffs and Andy’s vocals, it was like I was prepared for war.

It wasn’t long before the end of the jam session ended, as if it came and went. The disappointment of failed lighting equipment trailed behind the last note. It was a bit embarrassing for me; as a mid perfectionist, I wanted everything to go according to plan. As we began to vacant the practice to the main room, I was quick to take down my gear , still clinging to the remnants of disappointment that was still present. Almost instantly, the remnants vanished as I took a deep breath. More importantly, I had a particular question in mind that I knew was going to spark a lengthy conversation. From the outside looking in ( from my point of view at least), there is an interesting group dynamic that is present; I considered Andy as a veteran from the generation of DFW hardcore that showed face in the early-mid 2000’s. As for Eddie, Robert, Zach and Michael, they stepped into the scene a decade later, the current generation. There is an obvious time gap in between them and it doesn’t seem to get in the way. In fact, its almost as if Andy is most comfortable in his current band. Although ego isn’t a factor in Soledad ( they would be damned if it was), I perceive Soledad as an older, more experienced lion leading the pack of young savages in training. It was imperative to stroke my curiosity and figure out each individual’s perspective on the dynamic.

It came to no surprise that the conversation at hand consisted of a brief stroll down memory lane, each individual has their own unique timeline as far back as 2004. Andy and I were introduced to the scene from early to mid 2000’s; from Andy’s earliest band Curbcheck to my last memory on Balls Out into early Power Trip. Eddie and Zach came in around early 2010’s. My mind began spinning with each individual’s storyline into DFW hardcore. It was intriguing to hear each introduction and the influences that got them here. I asked Andy asked what the main difference was between the older bands he sang vocals for and Soledad. With nothing short of sincerity he replies, “The crazy thing about is none of the other bands has gotten the reaction the way Soledad has, especially not this early on.” He goes on to praise his early bands like Hands of the Few and Betrayal of Truth for their influence and doesn’t compare it to the fact the Soledad is grabbing more attention. It astonishes him in a way that he has never seen before. He states that he has seen kids get wild to his music but it wasn’t until later on in his musical career. Andy credits his level of maturity, having a different perspective on life and being a better vocalist. Before I was able to take a breath, Robert interjects, “So I’m curious since you said that, does it feel weird that you’re in a band with younger people? How do you see us?”. That was sort of a pivotal moment, it shifted from one person in a conversation with a group to a conversation amongst the group.

There lied a brief moment, quiet and still. the right amount of time to take a breath with a smooth exhale. There was a minute of realization; Robert Clark was directly behind me, lying on the bed. I couldn’t tell if he was sleep or well relaxed, his body was still and content. I felt my stomach release a slow and low rumble, it wasn’t pleasant but I was forced to acknowledge its origins. Andy replied with a response that indicated his level of intuition, “ Something told me that I need to get with people that are really tapped into what is going on right now, that are actually relevant. What’s the fuck is it going to do me any good to hook up with some dinosaurs like myself?” He begins to praise the members of his band for their talents and their experience so far. He continues the praise and describes their skill level as paramount. Andy states that members helped pull him out of a dark place in music, on the verge of quitting altogether, thus birthed Soledad. Energy shifted, the room got a bit brighter, the still air felt a little lighter. Collectively, the rest of band members assumed that Andy hated when they played for him for the very first time. Andy quickly debunked the assumption as he expressed his short term aloofness, heighten level of comfortableness, and his love for the music.

“The difference between then and now is there are a lot more kids. Back then, a turn out of 80 kids was a success. Now and days, it's kind of a poor turn out.

-Andy Zarate

It’s obvious to conclude that the rest of the band has their individual perspective on Andy (Fact: at the time Andy and I started going to shows, the rest of the members were in elementary school). Zach begins a hilarious story on his first encounter with Andy. While Andy was in the band ENLIST, Zach was in the band Omissions. They were performing on the same bill with Leeway and Rhythm of Fear. Enlist opened up for this particular show. This was also the show that Zach performed vocals and played bass. As Zach raised the mic stand to point in towards him, a full stream of Andy’s freshly salted sweat began rushing into Zach’s open mouth like milk filling a bowl of cereal to the brim. The event scarred Zach’s memory but nonetheless it was indeed their first interaction. The moment when Zach was awe- inspired was viewing the visual evidence of the early Hands of Few days; in particular the photo of the late Riley Gale grabbing the mic during Andy’s set. Robert’s perspective on Andy is a bit similar. Photos of Riley and Andy sparked a massive amount of interest to the hardcore scene for him. Prior to hardcore, Robert was into early 2000’s alternative then transitioned into metalcore bands like 7 Angels 7 Plagues and On Broken Wings. His love and appreciation for that era in heavy music is the root of the gratitude he has to be in this position with Andy. Robert states that he would occasionally ask Andy about the time period when Andy began attending show and the music that was the foundation of the culture.

Around 2013-2014, Eddie was playing with a handful of local beatdown bands. To Eddie, that was what he thought the DFW hardcore scene was. Eventually, he wanted no part of that, as he vehemently stated. His transition into real DFW hardcore was hanging out with bands members of death metal band Kombat and members of the late hardcore band Vulgar Display. He mentions the Green Brothers, Chad and Josh, witnessing the brother’s influence in the scene inspired him. “Andy was always there,” Eddie says as he describes his newfound moments in the scene, “ I’ve known Andy for a while, we have a lot of mutual friends”. Eddie recalls the first time he actually met Andy. “ I remember our friend Tyler Berry put on the first Brain Dead Fest, and that’s where I officially met Andy. Watching his performance at Braindead made me want to do hardcore again.”

How Soledad came into existence

For the past couple of years, Eddie was going down a rocky path in life. His father, who was decorated military veteran ( served in the Vietnam War, Korean War and Desert Storm) had fallen ill. Initially he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and pulmonary fibrosis at the age of 82. Eddie took on the care of his father full time. December 2020 is when his father passed. With his father gone, he turned his focus onto his mother, he didn’t want to leave her all alone, especially with her health issues. The weight of tragedy, loss, and mourning became heavy on Eddie. One can imagine the mental toughness, especially through the painful moments, an individual has to uphold during hard times. During the course of that time, Eddie was invited to a show at Tomcats. Reluctantly, Eddie decided to attend. He became acquainted with Robert who was playing in The Optimist at the time. “ I have never seen such a solid drummer in the metalcore scene before.” Eddie says. Some time afterwards, Eddie was in conversation with an affiliate of the Pit Demons. The affiliate wanted Ballista to play at their house. Hesitant, Eddie contacted Robert, who was became Ballista’s drummer, to extend the offer. Robert agreed to talk with the band about the offer and a short time later, respectfully declined. A little before his father’s death, Eddie and Robert had multiple discussions about forming an all Latino heavy band but it was only an idea. After his father’s passing while Eddie was mourning, Robert contacted Eddie and asked if he still wanted to get together to form the band like they discussed. Eddie agreed and informed Robert that he didn’t have much gear. Robert assured him that it wasn’t a worry and invited him over to his house to play. Eddie brought with him a demo of songs that he put together years ago, which ended up being some of the songs on the Soledad demo. The duo instantly kicked it off, like two peas in a pod. During the session, Robert invites Johnathon from Unity Tx to hang out, and within minutes Johnathon is hooked to what he hears. 15 minutes later, the three have a song written. For the next hour, they practiced the song until they got it to perfection, this is when the song Veguenza was born. Robert suggests that he bring the bass player of Ballista to his place to see if he wanted to be apart of it, Eddie agrees. As Eddie walks into the his house, astonishment was written across his face; standing in front of him is the bass player of Ballista, Zach Fleming, Eddie’s long time friend. Zach and Eddie have an extensive history: they attended the same high school together and shared many times together. The Last time they seen each other prior to that night was at The Shop, a DIY venue in Hutchins. Michael’s initiation into Soledad was bound to happen; he was always around during practice and according to Zach, “is the better shredder compared to a lot of people in DFW”. Michael was the perfect fit. The decision to induct Andy into Soledad was almost a no brainer. Andy was going to the thickest of the thick and the crew contemplated on contacting him, they didn’t want to seem as if they were over stepping boundaries. Although they were looking for a vocalist closer to death metal , they gave Andy a shot and the rest was history. “To keep it real with you, I took one good look at him and said to myself ‘that’s it ‘.” Zach laughs, “ he can sound like total bullshit and it’ll be ok because he has the look that we need.” From there on, they released their demo during the Ballista tour and their first show opened up for Death Before Dishonor, with an amazing turnout. That’s an accolade in my opinion, not many bands can flex something similar. This is only the beginning for Soledad, I’m excited to see what their future holds. In Eddie’s words, “It’s only going to get crazier from here.”