Ian Shelton has just moved from Seattle to Los Angeles, and he's already carving out his niche in the film capitol of the world. The multi-instrumentalist behind hardcore act Regional Justice Center also works as a filmmaker (directing videos for bands including Angel Du$t and Bayside) and is currently putting legwork into his next music video for Seattle post-hardcore act New Gods (for whom he also drums), which features him following around a man in a "dogboy" costume.
"He looks terrifying," Shelton says, laughing, of the character. "It's very weird looking. We dressed him up … walked him around public areas, and created a weird, atmospheric video. I shot it on 16-millimeter [film] and it just looks really creepy and weird."
Shelton's new sunny California digs and upbeat creative endeavors have placed him in good spirits, but when the conversation turns to RJC's debut full length, the punishing and politically potent World of Inconvenience, the musician's tone become solemn and he lays out the tragic real-life story that inspired the record: the incarceration of his brother Max.
Shelton's younger sibling is currently serving a six-year sentence in Washington State for Assault in the First Degree, stemming from a drug-related dispute where he stabbed two people during a fight. Regional Justice Center is the elder Shelton's attempt at understanding the incident, and his brother's experience within the prison system.
"This has been my greatest fear for as long as I can remember …" says Shelton. "And it's not only going to be for the time that it's happening, it's going to be after these six years, and coping with, How do we make sure this doesn't happen again. How do we make sure that he can [get] work as a Class A felon? How do we help him go further in life without having to constantly have this hanging over his head?"
The rage and frustration are palpable on World of Inconvenience. Sonically, its 11 furious songs traffic in knuckles-up blast beats and the derelict bleed of distortion; and lyrically, it's a fully screamed screed generally calling attention to prison life, with Shelton unafraid to point a finger at security companies profiting off of family pain. Max, however, adds an unexpected calm within this storm through a few candid phone conversations spliced into the LP, addressing the circumstances that brought him to prison, and what he's learned since.
Ahead of Regional Justice Center's summer tour, Ian Shelton filled Revolver in on the making of the new album, the possibility of Max playing with the band once he gets out, and how life in L.A. may give the older brother a chance to tell the story through film.
OBVIOUSLY, THERE'S A VERY PERSONAL INTEREST TOWARDS THE PRISON SYSTEM THAT YOU BRING INTO REGIONAL JUSTICE CENTER WITH HOW IT CONNECTS TO YOUR BROTHER. BEFORE HIS ARREST, THOUGH, HOW MUCH DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THE PRISON SYSTEM?
IAN SHELTON Family members have been in and out of the prison system my whole life, but it was a little bit further away. My knowledge grew exponentially after [Max] went inside. Not a ton of knowledge before my little brother went in.
CAN YOU EXPLAIN THE CIRCUMSTANCES THAT LED TO MAX'S INCARCERATION?
We grew up in a small town in Washington [Enumclaw]— It's three miles long. Our backgrounds shaped us to be different. All the bad shit that we went through motivated me to leave and get out and do anything else, whereas for him, it kind of cropped up into being more masculine. He wanted to own the area that we're from, you know? You could be the biggest drug dealer there in three weeks. I think he just kind of latched onto that; He was so wrapped up in small-town drug politics. When you know everybody, your reputation seems to mean something. Literally, when something happens, the whole town knows. He got swept away in that, and he was involved in a problem started over drugs. He was getting jumped and he ended up stabbing two of the people when that happened. He's now been sentenced to six years.
FOR ATTEMPTED MURDER?
Well, it was interesting because there was so much back and forth about witness testimony, whether or not other people had knives, whether or not there was excessive force. He couldn't go to trial because of all of that back and forth. And then the kid that he stabbed ended up being on trial for rape at the same time, so he couldn't testify in anyone else's case … It was this group of people that were young, dumb, bad or whatever, all convening at one time. It's Assault 1, which is essentially the same as attempted murder. They don't have an assigned attempted murder charge in Washington State. It's Assault to the First Degree.
THIS IS AFFECTING YOUR BROTHER DIRECTLY, BUT IT ALSO AFFECTS YOUR FAMILY. IT AFFECTS YOU. CAN YOU EXPLAIN HOW YOU'VE PROCESSED THIS EXPERIENCE THROUGH YOUR WORK AS REGIONAL JUSTICE CENTER?
This has been my greatest fear for as long as I can remember. The first time he got caught with weed he was 12 years old. I've just been trying to show him: "Look, there's other things you can do. You can leave this town, you can leave this place, you can do anything else. You can play in bands." But at the same time, what grabbed me in music and whatnot wasn't the same thing that grabbed him. He was looking for a different experience. He was finding that in what he was doing.
The ultimate heartbreak of my greatest fear is now confirmed. And it's not only going to be for the time that it's happening, it's going to be after these six years, and coping with how do we make sure this doesn't happen again. How do we make sure that he can [get] work as a Class A felon? How do we help him go further in life without having to constantly have this hanging over his head?
YOU ADDRESS THIS DIRECTLY ON THE NEW RECORD'S "CLASS A." WHAT ARE YOUR FEARS ABOUT THE STIGMA THAT COMES WITH BEING AN EX-CON, OF BEING A PRISONER?
My fear is just … what other way is there to go but dealing drugs again? When you can't work, because you're in the same class as a murderer — Class A is the same class as murder — where do you go from there when you get out? He's going to start working construction, most likely. A lot of those same people also are doing that, a continual cycle of being paired with other people who have similar experiences, which is a good and bad thing, you know? People with similar experiences you can relate to on a level, but at the same time, they also are the people that might be making bad decisions with you, or helping you make bad decisions. That's my biggest fear, just him coming out and not being able to make something that he would even want for himself, because he's so pigeonholed and limited by this label on him.
THROUGHOUT THE RECORD, YOU'RE CRITICAL OF BUREAUCRACY AND THE FOR-PROFIT FOCUS OF THE PRISON SYSTEM. HOW HAVE YOU ENCOUNTERED THIS?
When [Max] first went in, the company that ran the prison phone line was this company called Securus Technologies. When he first got arrested, he was calling me multiple times a day, and every time he called me, no matter the length of our conversation, it cost 15 dollars. I was having to pay that until he got his books set up properly; I was paying sometimes 45–60 dollars a day just to talk to him, because he called me multiple times, because he's scared.
Through that I started doing more research into that company, and they have gotten in trouble in the past for gouging families because they have these things like $15 phone calls. In other prisons, they tried to set it up so there was no in-person visitation allowed. You had to pay for their video visitation function. That ended up getting pulled back, but at the same time, that was the level of control they're trying to exert upon this system. They're in a profit sharing model with the jails and with the sheriff's department. Literally, there's this investment in the idea that people need to be going in. They need to be going into the prison system so that these things can make money, because the more they do that, the more profits there are.
BEING THAT YOU HAVE SPOKEN WITH YOUR BROTHER QUITE A LOT ON THE PHONE — SOME OF THESE CONVERSATIONS ENDED UP APPEARING BETWEEN SONGS ON THE ALBUM — HOW DOES HE FEEL ABOUT THIS PROJECT? "EXPLOITATION" HAS THE LINE, 'TAKE YOUR EXPERIENCE AS MY OWN.' ARE THERE ANY CONCERNS ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING?
That's exactly what that song is about. He's actually in the prison system, and I'm out here — I just moved to Los Angeles. At this point, I'm talking to writers every couple of days and they're asking about the record, they're asking for this story. The more time goes on, it feels like this exploitative process, because it ends up being this thing to sell my art. In which way does it benefit [Max]? It's something that I've thought about a lot, but at the same time he's been excited about the process.
It's kind of like, you know, finding that line of what's exploitative and what's creative, and what's also reaching people. Someone else reached out to me and said, 'hey, the subject matter rang true to me, because my brother was in jail and then he went to a prison'— and it turned out the same prison my brother's in now. It was interesting to see that other people have parallels to it. It seemed so specific.
YOU'RE PLUGGING THIS THROUGH HARDCORE, BUT YOU'RE A MULTI-DISCIPLINARY ARTIST. YOU JUST MOVED DOWN TO L.A. TO GET AHEAD IN THE FILM INDUSTRY. YOU'VE DONE COMMERCIAL WORK AND MUSIC VIDEOS, BUT IS PRISON REFORM A SUBJECT YOU COULD SEE FITTING INTO YOUR FILMMAKING CAREER?
Yes, 100 percent. Again, it's that line of trying to figure out what's my place to tell his story. And in a situation of, say, making a movie, I would be financially compensated for that. Whereas with this, hardcore's not profitable. I'm not making any money off of this record. I put far more money into this record than I will see back. There's only so many copies [I could sell]. That's a line I know I'm more comfortable with. "Ok, I'm not profiting off of my brother's struggle."
In the same way, if there was ever a way I would want to make sure that he was also making money in that situation, I think it's a very cinematic, interesting story. It speaks to a lot to people I grew up with that have either passed away, or are still living that life, and have gotten caught up in this small-town drug scene. I think that story should be told.
REGIONAL JUSTICE CENTER STARTED AS A SOLO STUDIO PROJECT, BUT YOU NOW HAVE A LIVE BAND. WHAT WAS IT LIKE TO BRING OTHER PEOPLE INTO SUCH A PERSONAL AND, ORIGINALLY, INDEPENDENTLY PERFORMED PROJECT?
I had two other people play with me on the record, but all the songwriting is my own. That's the understood dynamic of the band. You want everyone to feel involved and engaged with the product. It is an interesting process of finding people that are interested — not necessarily the creative side, but feeling that they connect with the basis of the band, the theme. The people that we have now are people that I've know for a long time, or they come from similar backgrounds — family members that have been in the prison system. [Another] thing that was common on one of our last tours: all of us had absent fathers. That was a unifying theme, and it's something I talk about in the music as well.
THAT WOULD BE THE SONG "SPERM DONOR"? HOW DID THAT COME UP? OBVIOUSLY WHEN YOU'RE ON TOUR, YOU SHARE STORIES, BUT WAS IT A PROFOUND REALIZATION?
No, just joking around was how we found out. I don't remember any of the good jokes, but someone made a joke about not having a dad and it was like, "Oh shit, I didn't have a dad either!" All of us, you know, came from deadbeats. Most of us ended up being raised by men that stepped into our lives later. There's a large amount of shared experience and a lot of empathy for our mothers, having to raise us.
SHIFTING GEARS A BIT, YOU'VE JUST MOVED DOWN TO LOS ANGELES. HOW DOES THIS AFFECT THE NATURE OF HOW THIS BAND WORKS?
So far, it hasn't affected it at all. I'm about to fly back up and I'm going to do some work in Seattle and play the record release shows and then come back here. With it being my project, I'm writing songs. When the times comes for us to do another record, I'll just teach everybody. It's not that intense of a process.
YOU'D PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED IN AN INTERVIEW THAT REGIONAL JUSTICE CENTER WOULD HAVE A QUICK SHELF LIFE. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON IT NOW THAT YOU'VE FINISHED THE ALBUM? IS THIS STILL A LIMITED PROJECT TO YOU?
I really am passionate about this style of music. Fast hardcore has been my main love, as far as aggressive music goes, for as long as I've been into it. But I just feel like at a certain point, bands go on for too long. I know that one of my goals is to have my brother play in the band once he's out, which is another four years away. But I don't know if that's going to be a last show, or a one-off show.
As of right now, it's all forward motion. I don't have time to think about when it's going to end. I think it would be corny to plan that to such a degree. I just don't want to hang around too long. A lot of bands, especially hardcore bands, just hang around too long. We've got to do our part, we've got to break up [Laughs]
ON THE ADVOCACY SIDE OF THINGS, COULD YOU FORESEE THIS BEING A LIFELONG PROJECT?
I hope to create art and be able to give money in whatever ways I can. I've been trying to find ways to do prisoner advocacy in Washington State. I definitely want to have that take more of a front seat with the project, because I think it would be really selfish to just make money off of it and not actually give anything back. It's not anything we've established yet. I feel like it would be cheesy for me to talk about, in a way, because I haven't given any money yet, you know?
HOW MUCH DO YOU SPEAK WITH YOUR BROTHER AT THIS POINT? YOU WERE GOING TO VISIT HIM REGULARLY, BUT NOW THAT YOU'RE IN LOS ANGELES, THERE'S MUCH MORE PHYSICAL SPACE BETWEEN YOU.
I've been trying to figure out when I can go visit him in person. We talk a couple of times a week. We mainly talk about hip-hop music — he has a chance to listen to media players. Other prisoners will tell him about the shit he should be listening to. Hopefully our record will get approved for the prison distribution system. He'll be able to get the record while on the inside, which is a very exciting thing for me.
