White Zombie

Rob Zombie’s evolution from headbanger to horror auteur makes perfect sense considering that his music has always been profoundly visual. In 1985, Zombie and bassist Sean Yseult were art-school students when they launched a noise-rock project named after the cult flick White Zombie. Their primitivism impressed the New York underground. Yet early records like 1987’s Soul-Crusher already reveal Zombie’s gift for evoking grindhouse gore through industrial sampling and riffs that growl like hot rods. Thanks to bigger budgets following a contract with Geffen, the group fleshed out Zombie’s cinematic style on 1992’s La Sexorcisto: Devil Music, Vol. 1 and 1995’s Astro Creep: 2000. Both unfold like immersive horror soundtracks: pummelling alt-metal meets shock-rock theatrics, while grooves throb with the sci-fi pulse of electronic music. Following White Zombie’s demise in 1998, the singer continued developing his trademark aesthetic on solo work until the only thing left to do was make the leap to filmmaking, which he did in 2003 with House of 1000 Corpses.