New York-based metal duo Early Man wants to rock you back to the stone-age. Seriously. By Joshua Fischer. Photographed by Zandy Mangold

Mike Conte is the kind of long-haired, tattooed, black T-shirt ’n’ jeans-clad, guitar-shredding metal-head who, if you joke about having to be an “interviewer guy”, tells you not to be one with him. He doesn’t suffer fools gladly. I’m sitting across from him at hipster N.Y. drinking den Max Fish, alongside drummer Adam Bennati. And Conte, who’s otherwise been a genuinely affable guy, is wincing at what he perceives to be a foolish question.

You see, when I heard the duo’s brutal Black Sabbath-styled output, I initially wondered if it was somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Matador, the label that brought us the sarcastic slackerism of Pavement and the debonair detachment of Interpol, hosts the band’s debut full-length, Closing In. It seemed possible that Early Man were a pair of indie rockers with an affinity for Iron Maiden and Judas Priest, who’d made an ironic metal record. At one point Conte actually sings, “Satan’s reflection is in my eyes.” Could that be a kitschy reference?

“I don’t write ‘references.’” Conte answers, angrily. “That lyric meant something to me when I wrote it.” He doesn’t like to linger on song meanings, leaving interpretation to the listener: Early Man is more visceral and less interpretive. And that’s fine, because with Conte’s wicked, axe-grinding guitar and Bennati’s thunder-heavy, maniacal drumming, Early Man undeniably has chops. Even Conte’s Ozzy-meets-Hetfield cries and snarls are spot-on. In other words, Early Man is a real fuckin’ metal band.

With a sharp, self-deprecating sense of humour, Conte describes himself and Bennati as “a couple of backwoods motherfuckers from Ohio.” For seven years, he’s been toiling in New York City trying to get Early Man up and running. “That’s why I get all grumpy about those irony questions,” 30-year-old Conte explains. “I’ve not eaten for weeks on end for this project. I’ve lost jobs. I’ve ruined relationships in order to keep this thing burning.”

Since Bennati moved to the city from their hometown two years ago, Early Man has at last caught fire. The pair is now facing a whirlwind of obligations, including dates in Germany, press in London, and a U.S. tour to support the release of Closing In. Bennati, his hair flowing from a black army cap, is reticent as he slouches in the booth and ponders his bottled Budweiser. It’s difficult to picture him pounding away at Early Man’s shows, which are notorious for being drenched in booze and bedlam. About the band’s contentious, dark groove, he offers with a shrug, “Someone can take it personal and someone else can take it as a party anthem.”

Which leads me, finally, to the most important questions: Are you evil and do you like to party? “I’m not evil. And I like to party,” Bennati says assuredly. “I love to party,” says Conte before stating, with true introspection registering in his eyes, “I hope I’m not evil… But, I don’t know.”