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I'm metal to the bone. I have X-rays to prove it.

On Childhood:
How to sum up 18 years of weirdness in just a few words? For now: I was born Erika Monique Krystaf, Feb 21, 1972 in Buffalo, NY. My family was dirt poor. Light showed through the walls of our house. My dad was nuts. My mom was troubled and never knew what to do with my crazy dad. I was an anxious, dorky kid who longed for escape from her chaotic childhood. To endure the social difficulty of being the school hillbilly (cue banjo music please and synch with the footage of the schoolyard beatings), I excelled in school in all subjects. I was particularly good at drawing, writing and music. Stories, songs, pictures - these were my solace. I never wanted status quo, I never wanted "good enough", I never wanted to be "average." While my childhood was awful at many times, it made me who I am today, and if I am one thing over everything else, it is "Unique."

On Writing:
I have written creatively almost as long as I have been consciously aware of my existence. My first book was a dinosaur book 24 pages long, created in first grade. Each page has a drawing of a dinosaur and then a description of it. When I was in sixth grade, I started writing another book, this one about a girl who joins a band and goes on to be a famous teenage rockstar. The twist in the story was that she also was a werewolf, and makes her whole band and all her idols into werewolves! I got to 210 pages and then pooped out. Pretty good for 12 years old! Throughout my teen years I wrote mostly poetry and horror stories, a few rooted in favorite song lyrics of bands like Infernal Majesty and Cannibal Corpse. When I was 26, I finished my novel, "The Apocalypse Gods." At 1100 pages, it was completely unpublishable. As of late, I'm feeling a stronger and stronger drive to rework it, to meet again my cast of characters who gave me solace during some dark times in my life. My current writing has been kept to lyrics and blogs, but as I said, the itch grows again. I think I need to scratch.

On Art:
One of my only memories of kindergarten is making art. I used up all the clay making dinosaurs. My teacher always hung my drawings on the wall. I was a very literal artist; I would draw the same concerete image over and over again, until I was sick of it. I drew blue whales. I drew triceratops. I drew bloody werewolves howling at the moon. As I got older, I tried to illustrate my books and stories, but in all honesty, I never was very good at drawing people. In high school, burnt out from relentless Advanced Placement classes, I made the decision to go to college for art. Four years later, I graduated with a degree in Illustration and went to work as a medical artist for a hospital in Boston. After six years of making brochures, drawing rats and mass spectrometers, I called it quits. Visual art as a career is just not for me. However, I haven't left art completely behind: I faux paint, I remodel, I create leather armor. It wasn't a total waste!

On Music:
Of all the creative pursuits in my life, music has remained the most consistent. From age seven, I was attracted to the world of rock, metal and the lovely long haired fellows who make the music. Something about long hair on a guy - just has to be there! I've always wanted to be a rockstar - my parents listened to untold hours of begging for moon boots during winter because I had visions of painting and carving them to make Gene Simmons' dragon boots. When the teens hit, my hair exploded into the size of Luxembourg, the eyeliner was applied thick, tiger stripes and studded bracelets were secretly worn to school, and oh yes, I got a guitar. Motley Crue, Ratt, Scorps, Priest, Maiden, Ozzy - I loved them all, and wanted to marry at least one guy in each band. I was determined to be Lita Ford, but better. I envisoned myself as a cross between Lita and Doro from Warlock, hot and sexy but blazing on the six string like Matthias Jabs. However, guitar just wasn't for me. I tried and tried, but my guitar was shit, my amp had no distortion, and eventually, I gave up. Through all of this, I was singing. Robert Plant, Ann Wilson, Rob Halford, Bruce Dickinson, Stevie Nicks - I sang it all. I spent hours in my room with my tube socks pulled up over my black courdroy pants jumping on my chair, pretending I was fronting Iron Maiden. At 14, I got a leather hat and went through my Rob Halford "Living After Midnight" phase. I can only imagine what my mother must have throught listening to me belt out the lyrics to "Jawbreaker" from behind my bedroom door. It's only in adulthood that I've begun to understand why she was so freaked out all of the time.

At about 17, I passed from hair and classic metal into thrash and death metal. Some of my favorite memories are driving through the Western New York backroads listening to "Bonded by Blood", "Slowly We Rot," and "Under the Sign of the Black Mark." This music, so intense, so primal, struck a chord in me that I knew would never stop ringing, no matter where life would take me. College saw me find avant garde metal and at the end, black metal. I'd always loved Bathory, but when I put Immortal's "Pure Holocaust" into the CD player I more or less had a spiritual revelation. THIS was the music of my soul, of my often lonely and isolated heart. To this day, I still consider myself a black metaller first and foremost; my musical talents may lie in the realm of classic metal, but my heart lies in frost.

In 1995, I made a brief appearance on black metal band December Wolves' "Til Ten Years" CD. My first studio experience, and man... it was hard! I had no idea what I was doing! Shortly thereafter, I joined my first band: Autumn Tears. It wasn't metal; it was goth. Some days I still wonder how I ended up in AT - it was so far from what I wanted to do. Regardless, it was music, it was creative. I was good at it, thanks to my excellent training in the high school madrigal choir. We recorded 4 albums before I moved from Massachusetts to Texas; after that I did a few more tracks but then left. Those final tracks were the best work I did with the band, but distance and changing priorities required that it end.

In 2003, I got the opportunity to do what I always wanted to do: sing in a metal band! Ignitor was more classic than comtemporary, but I didn't care: it was leather, it was spikes, it was distorted guitars and I got to scream. I'd been working on my "metal voice" for a number of years, singing along to Nevermore mostly. I learned quickly about pacing myself and that being up on stage wasn't as easy as Dickinson made it look. Some of my best musical memories come from my time with Ignitor: we opened for WASP, played the Monterrey Metal Fest Volume II and got to meet Hammerfall and Jag Panzer. We opened the Keep It True Festival in 2005 and brought the house down. Amazing experiences, all. Our mini CD, "Take to the Sky," was highly praised. 2007 saw us release "Road of Bones" on Cruz Del Sur Records. We busted our asses on this album and I really hope it shows.

Unfortunately, after a serious injury in 2006, a lot of my priorities changed. I no longer felt the same about Ignitor. After a year of trying to reconcile my feelings of unhappiness with what the band was doing, I realized the only way to fix things was to remove myself from the equation. In the autumn of 2006, I made the difficult decision to quit. And that was that.

Fast forward to 2008. You'll find me singing with Drifter, an Iron Maiden tribute band. For a short while I sang with Fury, a heavy thrash band. I've done guest vocals on Poseidon's Anger's "War of the Gods" album and for Florida shredder Tony Bracaglia. I have a few other projects in the wings as well... keeping busy, never stopping. My husband (also a musician) and I make it a point to go see our favorite bands even if we have to get on a plane to get to their shows. At 36, I know for sure that I will never stop singing - it is as much a part of me as breathing or eating. Life is good as long as it's full of metal!

On Life in General:
Life is short; really short. One day all can be just fine, the next, it could be over. Don't waste your life being afraid to try something new or get out of a bad situation. You've got to live your life - so get out there and LIVE IT. If you have a dream, make it a reality. Be true to your heart and don't give a f**k about what the rest of the world thinks. I talk to animals, bugs, plants and I don't care who hears me. I don't care if people think I'm a crazy person. I'm 36 years old and I still wear Hello Kitty. I eat ice cream with just as much glee as I did when I was five. I'm a raging dork. I still trip up the stairs. But I'm me, Erika, Skullgal, however you think of me, and I'm metal to the bone!

Horns up!
Erika

Updated September 22, 2008