System of a Down brings empathy to genre, broadening audience

That’s like being opposed to happiness and beer (granted, they’re pretty much one in the same).

Seriously, are you allergic to awesomeness or something?

Alas, some folks are just not down with the sound.

However, there is one metal band in particular that many nonmetal fans dig.

That group is System of a Down, the absurdist L.A. firebrands who have been able to broaden metal’s base substantially with a trio of chart-topping albums among their five platinum releases.

But why is it that this band has been able to reach an audience not normally attuned to acts of this ilk?

With SOAD ending a lengthy hiatus and coming to Vegas this weekend on the band’s first tour in five years, let’s break it down:

They Broaden Metal’s Subject Matter

Metal often gets tagged as a larger-than-life, escapist genre — see Manowar’s loincloths, Black Lawless’ flame-shooting codpiece, etc. It’s like the musical equivalent of that badass mural of a wizard fighting a serpent on your stoner uncle’s conversion van, right?

Well, actually, there always has been plenty of social commentary in metal, particularly in the thrash ranks, where bands such as Testament, Megadeth and Anthrax, to name but a few, have long tackled issues like global warming, nuclear proliferation, homelessness and other hot-button issues like, uh, the threat of female werewolves.

But from the outset of their career, System of a Down have taken things further, emphasizing empathy and understanding over anger. When they tackle a subject like war, the difference between SOAD and, say, Slayer, is that they emphasize the human costs of armed conflict rather than focusing on the horrors of the battlefield in gruesome detail, protruding bones and all.

"Why don’t presidents fight the war?" they ask on the flame spitting "B.Y.O.B." "Why do they always send the poor?"

Whether it be skewering the numbing effects of commercial imagery ("Violent Pornography") or questioning the effectiveness of the U.S. penal system ("Prison Song"), the band has long worked to serve as the conscience of the genre.

They Don’t Look, Act Like A Metal Band

To borrow a line from comedian Doug Stanhope, heavy metal fashion is like animal porn: It’s not for everyone.

Granted, there’s no singular longhair uniform.

There’s the traditional look: bullet belts, spikes, leather pants tight enough to cut sperm counts in half.

Then there’s the more modern approach, favored by bands like Disturbed, which is based upon a wardrobe as black as Satan’s heart and a tendency to avoid anything with sleeves like a drunk ducking a field sobriety test.

Onstage, they puff out their chests like junior high school bullies in pursuit of your milk money.

But SOAD is different.

Curly coiffed frontman Serj Tankian favors bohemian garb befitting of a college philosophy professor and, live, he smiles like a toddler passing gas most of the time.

While drummer John Dolmayan has the stocky build and stern demeanor of an NFL linebacker, guitarist Daron Malakian and bassist Shavo Odadjian mostly bare their skinny chests in proud fashion, never attempting to strike the mucho manly poses favored by many of their peers who wield their instruments like extensions of their manhood.

They’re Heavy, But In a Different Way

Metal always has been a bottom-heavy sound, a dark, forceful rumble meant to shake the ground like a herd of stampeding elephants with steel tusks and boulder-sized cojones filled with magma and scorpion venom.

Or something like that.

But while SOAD’s catalog packs plenty of crunch, their repertoire has a distinct bounce to it as well.

When the group debuted in the late ’90s, it was the era of the nu metal boom, where bands such as Korn, Coal Chamber and Slipknot tuned down their instruments to further heighten the bowel-agitating effect of their seismic rhythms.

But System has long favored a sound as bright as it is bruising, with Malakian’s wild-eyed delivery and staccato riffing contrasted with Tankian’s manic, helium-huffing vocals, which are suggestive of a carnival barker jamming a fork into a light socket.

Plus, SOAD aren’t afraid to show a little vulnerability on hits like the moody, ruminative "Aerials," while many metalheads only sound mournful when the free clinic runs out of penicillin.

They Don’t Strictly Hang With Metal Bands

Granted, SOAD’s most recent U.S. tour was as part of the 2006 edition of Ozzfest, a righteous, all-day metal bacchanalia that’s like a cloudburst of sweaty dudes, neck tattoos and dubious decision making.

But before that, on their last U.S. headlining jaunt before their hiatus, they brought along funk punk space cases Mars Volta and unhinged L.A. oddballs Bad Acid Trip.

They’ve toured with such hard-to-pigeonhole acts as Mr. Bungle, Clutch and The Melvins, and on this trek, they’re hitting the road with gypsy rock revolutionaries Gogol Bordello.

This just may be the ultimate appeal of this bunch: their skill at blending closed fists with open minds.

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.