Billy Graziadei, founding member of Biohazard, sat down with UFC Hall of Famer Matt Serra for a podcast conversation that repeatedly circled back to one constant in his life: jiu-jitsu. With both men sharing roots in the New York grappling scene of the 1990s, Graziadei made clear that the mat has remained a lifelong anchor.
When Serra asked if he was still training, Graziadei didn’t hesitate.
“Four or five days a week,” he said.
For Graziadei, jiu-jitsu carries the same emotional weight as music, offering balance and release from everyday pressure.
“Jiu-jitsu for me now is also as equivalent and as balancing as my music is. It’s an escape. You got all the stuff that’s blowing up in your head and you step on the mat and it’s gone.”
“It’s all silence and you look at everybody and it’s just good vibes and high fives and then you k*ll each other for an hour and a half. And then you high five each other and go home.”
A third-degree black belt earned roughly 11 to 12 years ago, Graziadei has trained consistently even through touring and travel. He explained that his approach to jiu-jitsu has always been inclusive and opportunistic, wherever he happened to be.
“I got my black belt under Rorion. Since 2008, I came here.” He continued, “I was loyal to everyone. I was with the Gracies, but because of touring the world, if you were a second stripe white belt and you loved jiu-jitsu, you were my brother and I would roll with you backstage or go to your garage.”
That openness extended into his life on tour as well.
“I open up the dressing room and I tell people I post and I’m like, ‘Yo, I got mats, I got extra gis, I got rash guards. Come and train. You want to come out backstage, come and train.’”
Graziadei also recalled advice he once received from Pedro Sauer, which he ultimately chose not to follow.
“Pedro Sauer told me a long time ago, he said, ‘Dude, you’re getting older. Pick your partners. Don’t try to train with the 22-year-olds. You know, you’re a black belt, and you’re going to have a big target.’”
He admitted, however, “But I never did. I was always since the beginning the biggest dude that walks in the room, I go for that dude. I want to roll with him. I want to be in the worst situation and be able to survive that situation. So I still do that.”
That philosophy eventually shaped what he described as a slower, more controlled “Sloth Jiu-Jitsu” approach, though it came with consequences.
“I watched my jiu-jitsu get so slow and then it was so passive. It was just like the idea of, I never wanted to tap. Like when you play a video game and you got your energy bar, it’s fully green. I didn’t want to even touch yellow. I always wanted to stay fully green, and I realized if I can keep training like this, I could train until I’m 90, till the grave.”
However, the intensity of resisting damage over time caught up with him.
“The younger cats that were just so fast and so strong at 22, 25, they would sometimes catch me, and I stopped caring about, oh, you caught me. I didn’t focus on that. It was like, you know what, I’m going to put myself in this situation. Let me see what I can do with this.”
That approach, he admitted, led to physical wear and tear.
“My shoulders got tweaked so bad, dude. They’re all torn up.”
Eventually, he adjusted his mindset again, prioritizing longevity and safety for both himself and his training partners.
“The tendons and the ligaments, they dry out. And at my age, I want to keep training, and I want the two things I want most: one, not getting hurt, and not getting my partner get hurt. I also want the dude and the person that I train with to walk away going, ‘Yeah, I love training with Billy.’ And that’s awesome for me.”
