It would be fair to say that if one were to name the music industry's premier talisman, a man who has had his fingers in more pies than a Little Jack Horner convention, then one name springs primarily to mind. Scott R H has fronted no less than 4 bands in a career that has spanned 14 long years of touring, recording, partying, and working hard to establish a name for himself. When you add into the equation the fact that the 28-year old has, in recent years, added such other skills as record producing and song writing (for others) into his repertoire, as well as the fact that he has set up his own record label, magazine and awards show, it's hard to see how he has yet to hit the floor from multiple stress induced heart failures. It's even harder to see where he managed to fit time into his schedule to even sit down.

However, it is in a seated position that I find the flamboyant former death metal maestro in the lobby of a Dubai six-star hotel (I genuinely had no clue such things even existed) on this sweltering Saturday afternoon in late April. His smile is wide, and he looks as healthy as his bank balance as he stands and greets me with a firm hand shake and a warm welcome that would suggest we had been friends for many a year. His friendliness to the media was one of the main reasons always quoted, by himself, as to how he managed to bring a death metal band, a traditionally very underground genre, into the top 10. As he invites me to sit, I'm acutely aware that there is a chance that the chair that he is directing me to sit in is probably worth more than my central London apartment, and I hesitate momentarily. "If it breaks, I'll pay for it," the billionaire chuckles across the table at me, and I sit (tentatively) down opposite him. We've been called here today to discuss what he told our press office was his "best kept secret", and from the infectious ambition and hunger that emanates from his eyes when he removes his sunglasses, I can't help but get drawn in and a little excited at the prospect of finding out.

We order drinks and some snacks (I almost fell off my expensive chair when I saw the prices on the menu, but was afraid to in case I dented the marble floor), and I marvel at how cool and collected this legendary figure in front of me can manage to appear in such an environment. That he can manage to pull off a suit with an open-necked shirt in this heat, and without a single bead of sweat breaking out on his forehead, makes me envious, and that's before I've even started to cast my mind over his illustrious career.

"I miss it," he tells me frankly, with his hands in front of his face, the points of all ten fingers touching those opposite. "Don't get me wrong. I love my life at the moment, and I feel like an incredibly lucky guy, but I miss the cold night air as I walk out into the arena that is a stadium show. I miss the wall of sound that comes at me when a crowd screams its collective appreciation of a song that I personally wrote, and I just miss the rush that comes with being a part of what is without doubt the world's most creative and influential industry."

I get the feeling that Scott talks from the heart whenever he mentions music. He seems to have it ingrained in his system, and it's not hard to see why. It's an industry which has given him all that he is over the past 14 years. An industry that has taken him from being what was essentially a school drop out with no qualifications, and turned him into a billionaire before the age of 30. He sips his drink politely and smiles coyly when I bring this fact up. "Yeah. I could have stayed in school and done well. I don't want to sound big headed," he chuckles, "but I was always smart in school, still am smart to this day. You just, sometimes know that something is not for you." He thinks for a while, and given the wisdom he has already imparted to me in the first few minutes of our meeting, not to mention my years as a fan of his work, I can't help but feel that I at least owe him that courtesy of waiting for his answer. "Sometimes you just have to take a risk in life. It might not always pay off, and I'll be the first to tell you that I got lucky on a level akin to one of those rednecks in comic books who strike oil, but I like to think that was a reward for taking a risk. And it's something that I'm proud of, and can always remember with a smile. I always loved the Wayne Gretzky quote: 'You'll miss 100% of the shots you don't take,' and it's so true. I didn't want to be thinking for the rest of my life 'What if?' so I rolled the dice, and I'm proud to say that it paid off."


The R stands for 'rich': The 28-year old has amassed a multi-billion dollar fortune.

After 25 minutes of our meeting, when I see Scott glance at his watch, I fear that the half-hour interview promised to us by his publicist is going to turn out to be a hard and fast rule, and I feel inclined to push him on the subject of his best kept secret. When I do, I'm greeted by that warm, almost addictive smile yet again, a smile that makes the man look far younger than his 28 years. As he leans towards me, I feel almost inclined to do the same, as if I am about to become party to the biggest secret in the industry. "I've toyed with an idea of a reunion tour," he whispers to me, before slowly sitting back in his almost slouched, yet amazingly cool position, his steely blue eyes never leaving my gaze.

Either the look of amazed shock in my eyes amuses him, or I have just been played by one of the biggest players in the game, and I soon come to realise it's the latter as he laughs at the expression which has spread across my face. Realising however that his joke has just led to an uber Blood of Wecz fan almost descending into the sort of behaviour normally displayed by 13-year old girls, he quickly turns more serious again and takes another drink from a coffee which I am certain was more expensive than the car that brought me here.

"I'm sorry," he chuckles, still amused at my excitement as he offers me a sandwich from the sizeable silver platter. I decline. "A Blood of Wecz reunion would never work really," he laments with a sort of sigh in his voice. "Mark and I are the only two really in contact any longer. I saw Ryan recently, but to be honest, that dude is in no shape for metal anymore." He sits back and sends a waiter off to bring him two cold beers, checking to see if I would like one. "He was dating some girl, you know her, Andrea Mason, and as far as I know, they had moved in together. Next thing is he leaves her for Katie [Coyle]. Now the dude's drinking heavily and playing guitar for some underground emo band in the goth clubs in New Jersey. I think we lost him."

When our beers come, Scott seems to become even more relaxed, something I'd have scarcely thought possible after his cool demeanour so far. Shedding his jacket and rolling his shirt sleeves up, he quickly poses, still seated, for a photo with some tourists who have somehow bypassed the security at the hotel's entrance, their red faces beaming as they ask me to snap the picture. As they leave, Scott turns back to me, his hands clasped in front of him, as he sighs. "Nah, a reunion tour would never have been enough anyway. I've been restless for months, and I've been keen to get back into the game for one last shot." I chuckle at this thought. In a world of Mick Jaggers and Stings, that a 28-year old thinks he has time for one last shot is somewhat amusing.

"Do you feel suitably teased?" he asks me eventually, through a grin I can just see emerging around the neck of the cold glass beer bottle he has raised to his lips. In truth, I've been bursting to ask him explicitly about why we are here for the last 45 minutes, but I didn't want to run the risk of losing what is the biggest interview of my life. He clears his throat, reaching down to the side of his chair, and retrieves a brown folder. As he tosses it onto the desk, and slides it towards me across the fine wood surface, I look down at it, then back at him, almost asking for permission to have a look inside. He nods his head and points a finger towards the folder, returning his hand to his stubbled chin as he intently watches me open it. The inside of the folder is emblazoned with a logo which bears the legend "District 13", and my eyes pore over it as I try to make sense of it all.

"I decided to front a new band," Scott says calmly, talking almost like a narrative over the top of my reading his dossier. "I've been silently putting it all together over the last three or four months, because I didn't want to create a hype over nothing. But I have come up with three people who I feel can bring success, good music, and most importantly, add to the amazing journey I've been on for the past 14 years."

As I flick silently through the pages, I am greeted by pictures of three guys, one of them the famous face who sits opposite me, the other two I don't know, and a girl, who must be no older than 21-years old. She looks almost out of place among the band of hardened rockers that she will be joining. "Yeah, you should hear her voice," Scott laughs, as he sees me look at her picture with what must be an air of mild confusion. "I actually saw her fronting a pop-punk band at Corporation in Sheffield a few years back," he admits. "Her stage presence is completely insane."

As I continue to thumb through the pictures and the somewhat intriguing lyrics that are written down, Scott provides with more information on the band. "Now that I'm 28, I decided I was too old for always doing metal. I'm going to take a step back from there, and I've wanted to for quite a while. This band is more alt-rock than metal, although there may still be some heavy parts."

From the way he discusses his new project, I can tell that Scott is excited about it. The beaming smile on his face as he points out things I might have missed in the pile of paper tells its own story. This is something he seems prepared to put his heart and soul into, and given what he has achieved over the past 14 years, anyone who counts this band out will do so at their own peril.

"This band is either going to be the making of me, or a complete disaster. Either way, it's going to be fun finding out," he says in an almost prophetic way, and it seems the interview is over almost as quickly as it begun. A look at my watch tells me we have been chatting for around two hours. A quick embrace and a few pictures later, I find myself back in my car, dossier in hand, and well aware that I have just conducted an interview with one of the biggest stars ever to walk the planet.

---

District 13 - Meet the Band


Scott R.H. - Vocals and guitar.


Jakey Fallon - Guitar.


Jimmy Adler - Drums.


Cat Wendel - Vocals.