Alternative Press teamed up with Des Rocs for an exclusive vinyl of To Hell and Back, limited to 100. Head to the AP Shop to grab yours.
Danny Rocco, aka Des Rocs, is on a mission. Since his debut release, 2018’s Let The Vultures In EP, this has been evident: The New York native has his eyes set on arenas and attention hooked on making classic rock ’n’ roll fit for today. In sound, swagger, and fashion sense, he draws on big leagues like Elvis Presley, Roy Orbison, and Queen while adding in some grittier but soaring alt-rock influence that recalls bands like Nothing But Thieves and Muse. Nonetheless, he makes it all his own, with a vocal range that drifts into falsetto, a hefty dose of polished riffage, and lyricism packed with personality, as well as the very real pain he has undergone over the years — all of which are more evident than ever across his latest, and third album, To Hell and Back, which arrived last month via Sumerian.
Like many of us who hail from New York City, Rocco is proud of where he’s from. Not only this, but it is something that’s inextricably intertwined with his musical practice. His sound is steeped in the vibrational energy of NYC, with its rock ’n’ roll ghosts past, present, and future — as well as the experiences he’s had himself as a musician coming up in such a unique place.
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To Hell and Back, within its 11 tracks, holds little back when it comes to Rocco’s own recent struggles, both physical and emotional. To record it, after attempting a few other angles for production, the artist and his band headed home to record it all live — harnessing the raw magic of NYC, in all of its dirty, ugly, sexy, and glamorous glory.
After a month of spinning the album in our homes, or even hitting the road to catch it live on tour — we’re pausing to celebrate it once again. As an homage to where it all began and ended, Rocco has put together a personal guide to the city that built To Hell and Back: New York.
Queens
The Lair
My studio in Queens is where the entire album was dreamed up. I write here, and I rehearse here. Endless hours are spent in the shadow of the city skyline, cutting vocals over and over until I find something I didn’t even know I was looking for. This is the spring from which the entire lifeblood of Des Rocs flows. I’ve inhabited so many bizarre studios all over this city — they’ve all been loaded with so many challenges. That’s typical of someone struggling to make music here. But this place is magical. When I’m here, I feel like I’m in some parallel dimension. A place where I can create without the rest of the world getting in the way.
Manducati’s
Nestled above the G train in Queens, this is one of my favorite restaurants in all of New York. The chef is an octogenarian Italian grandmother. She’s been running the joint with her family for decades. The main waiter is a charming fella named Anthony (her son, of course), and in another life he was a rock ’n’ roll historian. His love for music is contagious, and his stories are never-ending like the refills on wine. An incredible cast of characters from all walks of life have swung through those doors, from celebrities to locals. This is my favorite place to come for writing breaks and long hangs with Anthony.
Doc, our bassist, likes the Manducati’s Rustica a few blocks away that was started by the daughter (there is drama, don’t ask). He likes that they serve pizza and have a bar, but I say it’s heresy to go to that one (it’s actually not bad).
Brooklyn
Mission Sound
The few surviving recording studios today are sanitized corporate shells of what they used to be. There’s one hold-out in the now unrecognizable neighborhood of Williamsburg. Mission Sound is where we recorded Dream Machine, and it was our first time making a Des Rocs album in a proper studio. It’s the home of Oliver Strauss, who has poured every ounce of his being into creating an artist-friendly place filled with vintage gear. Hell, he even lives there. There’s a heart and soul to the place that makes you feel like you’re making music in the ’90s. I guess I gravitate toward places that feel like they’re not supposed to be where they are (or in time periods they’re in). There’s a certain escapism that I crave when creating.
For this album, we really inhabited that studio in a new way — recording the entire album live as a band. We wanted to challenge ourselves and push to capture that kinda intangible raw energy that is so palpable at our shows. Mission Sound is the emotional core of this record.
Manhattan
The Power Station
We got to do some extra recording at the legendary Power Station located on the west side of Manhattan. It’s the place where my favorite artists of all time have created my favorite records of all time. When you walk into the room, some kinda voodoo causes the hair on my arms to stand straight up. Some places are just magical. You think about the legends who have made art in that space, and then how much of that art has changed the world. You feel like you’re a part of some rock ’n’ roll continuum, adding another chapter to a holy book.
Stock Vintage
Melissa is a salt-of-the-earth clothes dealer with a small storefront overflowing with jeans and jackets. Many are well over a hundred years old. I love old things. I love wearing clothes that rile up the imagination. Trying on something that fits ya perfectly is like connecting with some long-lost doppelganger from the past. I love to imagine the people who wore these things, the nights out a jacket may have had in 1955 somewhere in a long-forgotten version of New York City. But we’ll never know. There are only questions with answers to be guessed from rips and stains.
I’ll spend a lot of time shootin’ the shit with Melissa. Her knowledge of her craft is mesmerizing. This place is an amazing respite for me when I’m creating.
On foot (64th St.-14th St., down 3rd Avenue)
I spend a tremendous amount of time walking around the city. So many people ask me what they should do when they visit here. I just tell ‘em: Walk. The neighborhoods will change drastically every 10-15 blocks, as if there’s a thousand different cities in one — all stitched together to make the singular tapestry that is New York. I haven’t done half of the tourist things you’re supposed to do (I hit the Statue of Liberty for the first time last year). But if you can just walk, you will soak up the electricity that’s made this the most alluring city on Earth for the last 150 years.
So many of my lyrics have been written on foot. Almost all my mixes have been tweaked and analyzed and torn apart while pacing. Walking is one of the most important things to my mental health and well-being. There are few problems I haven’t been able to solve with a healthy walk. So many of the puzzle pieces of this album were put together on this route.
