Troy Sanders had barely been home three days after seven weeks on the road when we talked. “I’m re-acclimating to home life,” the Mastodon bassist/singer said with a laugh that sounded equal parts relief and exhaustion. The band had just wrapped a co-headlining tour with Lamb of God, each group revisiting their 2004 career-altering records: Leviathan and Ashes of the Wake.
“It was something we’d been talking about for years,” Sanders said. “We’ve been friends with those guys for 20-plus years. It wasn’t competition. It was mutual respect, friendship, and celebrating two records that changed each of our band’s careers. A lot of people showed up, the energy was magical—and we made it through.”
That “we’re all in this together” mentality wasn’t always the default in heavy music, but Sanders says Mastodon never thrived on competition anyway. “If it was going to be competitive, we’d probably have played a different kind of music. We always tried to carve our own path. Five years of sleeping on floors, playing kitchens, basements, VFW halls, dive bars—anywhere. Leviathan was the record that finally took us from the dive bars to actual venues.”
It was a gamble. “We wanted to do a conceptual record based on Moby-Dick,” Sanders recalled. “Our band was very small at the time. It easily could’ve killed us if it didn’t work. Thankfully it went the other way. The visuals, the lyrics, Paul Romano’s artwork—it all came together. It was well-received and took us to the next level.”
And then came 2009’s Crack the Skye, the record Mastodon fans still argue about in hushed tones like it’s a sacred text. “The storyline is insane,” Sanders admitted. “When you try to explain it—astral projection, Rasputin—it sounds nuts. But that’s like pitching a horror film in a writing room two years before it gets made. Done right, it works. And for us, the music was the anchor. That’s why it connected.”
He credits Brent Hinds with much of the music but says the whole band was “all in.” “Cleaner vocals, actual melody—it was a big leap for us after years of just ferocity. Touring 150 nights a year screaming our heads off, we wanted to try other options. It was growth. And we were unified. Nobody in the band thought, ‘this is ridiculous.’ We all went for it, and that gave it the strength it needed.”
The visuals helped too. For the album’s 10th anniversary, Mastodon played it in full with a silent film projected behind them. “I never actually turned around to watch it,” Sanders admitted. “I should have. Haven’t put eyes on it in at least five years. But visuals have always been huge for us—album artwork, stage backdrops, vinyl packaging. It’s the whole package.”
That whole package includes the band’s not-so-secret goofball side: commemorative plates, tiki mugs, coffee blends, comedy skits. “We’ve always taken the music and the subject matter very seriously,” Sanders said. “But outside of that, we’re just goofballs. We’re not afraid to show that. Everyone can use a laugh.”
Sometimes that humor bleeds into unexpected places—like their Feist swap, where they covered her “A Commotion” and she covered “Black Tongue.” “We loved their music. We thought it’d be a fantastic idea. And usually when you say, ‘we should collaborate,’ it never actually happens. But that one did. It was great.”
After Hushed and Grim, Mastodon’s double album mourning their late manager Nick John, Sanders says there’s no grand plan for what comes next. “We don’t really sit down and conceive. Whatever riffs people bring in, if we like them, we dig in. Storylines, if they come, they come. Nothing’s written in blood, nothing’s off-limits. We don’t make records to please anyone else. Art should be selfish. If the four of us are stoked, that’s all that matters.”
Still, after weeks of living inside Leviathan again, Sanders admits some of that early ferocity might creep into the new material. “It was fun to play. It didn’t feel like just nostalgia—it felt alive. So yeah, maybe some of that will stick around.”
For now, he’s enjoying the pause before Mastodon’s next chapter—while already thinking about gathering demos with his bandmates. “We’ve always wanted to evolve, never be complacent. Take risks, try something different. Worst-case scenario, you shelve it. Best case? You change the course of your band.”
That’s been the Mastodon way for 25 years: dive bars, whales, Rasputin, tiki mugs, and all.
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
