From the Cornish coast to the Hollywood Hills, Joshua Mellody aka. dubstep hall of famer Zomboy, has come a long way from his days spinning head bangers in London. First plucked and guided by the watchful eye of the late Never Say Die’s; SkisM, the past decade has seen him steadily establish a career spanning cities, continents and concepts. A staple of and synonymous with the US bass music scene, the mighty dubmaster recently celebrated the release of sequel Dead Man Walking pt2 – a final installment of the pinnacle two part EP that doesn’t hold back, in a polished collection of gritty punk and metal electronica bass havens.
But raging basslines aside, Zomboy brings the calm collectedness of a pro, to all his efforts. Now established on his own terms, proud owner of Rott ‘N Roll Records and most recently adding the strings of Designer and Animator to his bow, the maestro takes steps to ensure his peace is not disturbed; taking his time with each new project, crafting his own path and focusing on wellbeing above all else.
We caught up on the fresh SLANDER & Bring Me The Horizon ‘Wish I Could Forget’ Remix, music therapy, Adele and the goings-on of the US scene.
Congrats on the remix release! What does that track mean to you?
I’m very picky about what I take on as remixes. I’m picky about everything, haha, so this was special. First of all, I love Bring Me the Horizon; they’re childhood idols of mine. I love what they’ve done with their career and how they’ve evolved along the way. I fully support everything they’ve done. Just knowing I was going to be able to work with one of Ollie’s vocal tracks, I was like, “Yep, I’m in!” I love the energy of the original. SLANDER obviously kept it very breaksy and upbeat, and I thought, “There’s so much room to make this gnarly…”
Bringing some of that Zomboy ‘cinematic violence’ in…
Exactly. The vocal is also very fitting for the extremely personal experiences I’ve gone through over the last few years and the lead vocal being, “I wish that I could forget.” Very apt.
I love how much this resonated with you. It’s a powerful track. How did it feel to play it at Red Rocks, Colorado, in 2024?
It was a moment. The story is, firstly, I’m notorious for writing 90% of a song in the first hour. The other hundred hours are spent nerding out, tweaking, and doing stuff no one will ever notice. So when I got confirmed for the show and they asked me to play the remix, I was still finishing Dead Man Walking Pt. 2. I didn’t have time to start the remix earlier. It was actually the day before Red Rocks, and I was flying back from Germany to Denver. I finished making the song and the visualizer for it on that ten-hour flight!
I also played a little prank on the crowd and the SLANDER guys. Early in their career, they were playing right before me at a festival in Canada, not long after ‘Like a Bitch’ was popping off. Everyone was playing it at the time. They were on before me, and I heard them playing it! It was definitely a mistake; I think they just forgot to take it out of the set. I vividly remember my tour manager running onto the stage and pulling the fader down. So at Red Rocks, I thought I’d get my own back. I started playing the remix, but quickly I jumped on the mic to make it clear I was kidding and that it was totally planned!
Haha! Finally vindicated. Being well over a decade into your career now, what’s the most important lesson you’ve learned?
When I was becoming a young adult and touring, I didn’t have time to be an adult and figure out who I was. Luckily, I’ve been able to do that now. But inevitably, everyone has to come off the road. No matter how much you love it, after doing music for a while, it becomes a job like any other. It’s taught me that it doesn’t matter how incredible your line of work is eventually, it will feel like a job. Sometimes, you’ll wish for stability. It’s stressful. It’s tiring. It comes with all the negatives of a ‘normal’ job too. I still love it, but I want to talk about the other side of it as well.
Yes, it’s important to acknowledge all the unique challenges that come with working in this industry. There’s definitely no HR…
Can you imagine?!
So, we can’t not talk about the Dead Man Walking Pt.2 EP. There are some emotionally intense themes in there. What’s the story behind the sequel?
The theme of Dead Man Walking was triggered when Tommy, my former manager, SkisM, decided to call it quits, retire, and put Never Say Die to rest. He discovered me. He was the one who convinced me to be an artist. When he retired, I felt very lost. I wondered if I’d still be good without him being my guru, mentor, and tastemaker. I thought people might see me as an Old Western ‘dead man walking’. That phrase stuck with me. A ‘dead man walking’ is also a zombie, so it has a shallow meaning and a deeper one. The shallow meaning is obvious, but the deeper meaning is: what do people think of me without him guiding my career? Can I still do this without him?
This EP and its sister Pt. 1 hold a lot of deep meaning.
Yes, there’s a lot of depth to it. Post-pandemic, I’ve gone through a lot of personal growth, therapy and healing. It’s been an emotional and life-changing few years. Starting Zomboy 14 years ago, I was very young. All I knew was touring nonstop. So, yeah, there’s a lot of soul-searching and reflection. I tried to pour that journey into the music.
That is beautiful. It sounds like music has been very therapeutic for you.
Yeah, it’s a bit of everything. It’s both the antidote and the poison at the same time. It consumes your life in the best and worst ways.
Indeed. How do you create that ‘cinematic violence’ in sound?
‘Cinematic violence’ is a phrase coined by my photographer/videographer back in Los Angeles called Emma. I’ve always been fascinated by movie scores and orchestral music in general. To me, there was a big gap between emotion and bass music. Nothing evokes that feeling quite like movie scores and big orchestras. I wanted to bring as much of that emotion into my world as I could but in a very aggressive way. Hence, cinematic violence. In general, I tend to borrow inspiration from everything except bass music. I like to pull from cinematic elements and different genres, then meld them into bass music.
As for how I do it, most of the time it’s a rhythm thing. If I have a rhythm in mind, that will often kickstart the process whether it’s a rhythm that becomes the drop (which I can translate into a string section as the theme) or just something rhythmic that gives the track its DNA. Dubstep really lends itself to epic, cinematic, battle-themed music.
Agree! Epic scenes for an epic genre. I really love how you try to release only one record a year. What’s the reasoning behind that?
Very early on, I realized that everyone around me was flooding the scene with music. I get that it’s good to have a lot of content out there, but at the same time, there doesn’t seem to be much quality control. People feel like they have to release something constantly, and a lot of music comes out that, in my opinion, might have been better saved as an ID for live shows. Personally, I’ve always followed the ethos of releasing one solid record a year, with maybe a few remixes on the side. I know the fanbase would love more, but that’s just how I work.
You’re the Adele of bass music.
Oh, if only! One record every six years, luxury…
How can producers maintain that level of quality control?
The scene evolves so much, even within a single year, that newer artists often feel the pressure to jump on every trend and release content frequently. For some, that approach works especially for up-and-comers trying to build a name. But once you’re established, I think it’s important to focus on quality control. Ask yourself: what’s your brand? What do you want to achieve? Then try to stick to that vision. Doing so naturally brings a bit more restraint in deciding what’s worth releasing. That’s just my technique, though. There are valid reasons for putting out lots of content, but for me, I’ve chosen a different path.
Sound wisdom. Speaking of other creative pursuits, is it true you create your own visuals?
Yes! It’s all me: the artwork, the visualizers, and all the live show visuals. I do everything in Blender— all my own 3D animations— and it’s a lot of work. That’s also part of the reason I don’t release as much music. There’s so much planning and creativity involved beyond just writing the tracks. Honestly, if I wanted to produce more music, I’d probably need to hire a small army to keep up with everything else.
It all makes sense now! That’s incredible. Do you have a favorite project of all time?
Conceptually and visually, the Dead Man Walking Part One and Two saga stands out. It’s the first time I’ve felt confident enough to fully showcase my animation work and visuals. I’ve been doing that stuff for years, but I’d usually reach a point where I’d tell myself, “I’m too busy writing the music; I’ll let someone else handle the artwork.” It’s only in the last three or four years that I’ve built up the confidence to take full creative control. Now I don’t have to go back and forth explaining ideas; I just create them myself. This Part One and Part Two project has been an absolute blast. It’s been amazing to see how far I could take a theme, all while still being “just” a dubstep producer on the surface.
What do you want to do next?
With music, I want to go back to having fun with it— not taking things so seriously or sticking to heavy themes. It’s funny because some of my most-streamed songs are the ones I wrote purely for fun. I forgot about that when I got caught up in creating cinematic, dark, thematic pieces. I’ve done the drama; now I’m ready to just enjoy the process again.
More dancing. More dance music.
Exactly. The kind of music that makes me do this with my head. [Mimics a head movement.] People call me out on it all the time because I do it a lot on stage!
I feel that. I’ve been there with a sore neck from headbanging.
Try doing that for an hour straight, four nights a week, for 10 years. During the most intense touring seasons of my career, my neck got so thick from all the muscle I built up headbanging. When I’d be flying and sleeping upright on planes, I never let my head droop because my neck muscles were so strong they just held my head up while I slept. I was literally planted in my neck, just chilling.
That’s definitely going in the article.
Zomboy, the thick-neck zombie.
You’re, of course, very established in the US. What’s the scene like there compared to the UK?
The scene out there is just fucking incredible. That’s not to say there isn’t a good scene in the UK, but for the kind of music I do, aggressive, in-your-face dubstep, it didn’t have a long shelf life there. Whenever I get to play in London, it’s always so much fun, but the promoters lost confidence in dubstep. The scene influenced the promoters too much, and they got scared. Fair enough, business is business. If they didn’t feel confident, why would they take the risk?
But the reality is, the scene is still there. It’s just that no one had the guts to rebuild it. Meanwhile, America did. They ran with it, and they’re still running with it. That’s why I’ll always be eternally thankful for them. They invest back into the scene. The promoters in the US don’t just pocket the money and run; they reinvest it. They grow the community into something bigger and better, building it up instead of just chasing a quick cash grab.
It’s so important to invest in grassroots, especially now.
Absolutely. I feel I’ve been consistently lucky that everything I’ve done has worked out. For newcomers, I’d say that maintaining a sense of mystery, what I call the ‘old music magic,’ has been crucial for me. Back in the day, you couldn’t just DM your favorite artists. Being a little inaccessible adds to your aura. Not only does it protect your personal life, but it’s good for your mental health, too. Of course, I recognize that’s easier said than done, especially for me 14 years into my career. These days, things are different. Accessibility is part of the game now. But it’s all about balance.
More sound advice there, thank you. Finally, what’s your resolution for 2025?
Just to have some fun again. I want to go back to that feeling I had when I was starting out when it wasn’t so serious and I was just truly happy.
Full circle. We love to hear this, thank you for sharing! Do you have a message for your fans before we wrap up?
Just a massive thank you, really. Thank you for sticking with me all these years, especially during those moments when I’ve been quieter or when I’ve experimented with something new. I genuinely appreciate every single person who takes the time to listen to my music, come to my shows, or support me in any way. It means the world. And here’s to more head-banging, more cinematic violence, and a lot more fun in 2025!
READ
