interviews by fok ‘bs’

“Overhead Valve Engine describes not only our sound, but the way we think as a band.”

“It’s about pressure, energy, and many parts working together – once everything engages, movement happens.”

“A song should come from the moment, with soul and risk.”

“An honest song doesn’t need to be explained – you feel it immediately.”

“If a song is strong, it carries itself without myth or exaggeration.”

“We want to write songs that grow, not ones that burn out quickly.”

“You should feel that this music is real – grounded, warm, and driven.”

“Air between the notes and small imperfections aren’t flaws – they’re identity.”

“Good ideas can be constructed. Real songs simply happen.”

“We wanted nothing between us and the music – no filters, no intermediaries.”

“The music of the ’70s means freedom to us – less correctness, more expression.”

Overhead Valve Engine don’t treat rock music as nostalgia or spectacle.
With ‘Soul On Fire‘, the Swiss band present a sound driven by motion, pressure, and human interplay – stripped of myth, focused on feel, and built to last.
Your band name is a clear statement of mechanics, power, and efficiency.
When did you realize that this image was not just a name, but your artistic self-understanding?
“The name came from a gut feeling. Something mechanical, but still alive. The longer we made music together, the clearer it became: this is exactly how we work as well. It’s about energy, pressure, and the interaction of many parts. When everything engages, movement happens. Overhead Valve Engine describes not only our sound, but also the way we think as a band.”
‘Soul On Fire‘ doesn’t sound like nostalgic reflection, but like lived presence.
What does the music of the ’70s mean to you today – attitude, sound, or a way of life?
“The music of the ’70s means freedom to us. Back then, it was less about correctness and more about expression. That attitude is timeless. It’s that feeling of a song being born in the moment, with soul and risk. We carry that into the present without copying or looking back.”
Many bands talk about ‘authentic rock‘, while you simply sound like it without explanation.
How do you know yourselves whether a song is honest or just well made?
“You feel honesty immediately. A song is honest when it doesn’t let go of us and doesn’t need to be explained. If we can play it anywhere, in any room, with any setup, and it still holds up. Good ideas can be constructed – real songs simply happen.”
You recorded and produced the album entirely yourselves.
Was control the main reason, or was it more about leaving nothing between you and the music?
“Recording everything ourselves was a conscious decision. Not out of control obsession, but out of closeness. We wanted to take every step ourselves, to feel every decision. No filters, no intermediaries. The album was meant to sound exactly the way it feels to us.”
The songs feel very ‘mobile‘, almost road-made.
When writing, do you think more about the live feeling, or does that emerge naturally?
“Our songs come from movement. Often from playing together, in the room. We don’t think in categories like ‘radio’ or ‘live’. When a song flows, it automatically gains that dynamic, that forward momentum you later feel on stage.”
In a time when perfection often matters more than character, you deliberately chose edges, friction, and air in the sound.
Where does quality end for you, and sterility begin?
“Perfection can become lifeless very quickly. We’re interested in the moment before that – where it still breathes. Small imperfections, space between notes, dynamics. That’s not a flaw, it’s identity. For us, quality means hearing the people behind the music.”
Roger Alan Nichols refined your mix without smoothing you out.
How important was that balance between rawness and outside experience?
“Working with Roger Alan Nichols was valuable precisely for that reason. He understood our vision and gave it space. His experience added depth to the sound without taking away its edges. That balance was extremely important to us.”
Rock music often thrives on myth and pose – your music, by contrast, feels grounded and direct.
Is understatement a conscious stylistic choice for you?
“Understatement isn’t a pose, it’s a natural state. We don’t need to inflate or dramatize anything. If a song is strong, it carries itself. Directness and groundedness give us more freedom than any myth ever could.”
‘Soul On Fire‘ sounds like an album that doesn’t want to prove anything – it simply exists.
After a debut, does a band feel more relief or new pressure?
“After the debut, the main feeling was relief. This album exists now. It stands on its own, independent of expectations. That brings calm – and at the same time the desire to move forward without needing to prove anything.”
Switzerland isn’t exactly known as an epicenter of ’70s classic rock.
Is that a disadvantage, a safe space, or completely irrelevant to you?
“Switzerland is simply our starting point. Music knows no borders. Perhaps that distance even helps to walk your own path, without orienting yourself around scenes or trends. What matters is how seriously you take it.”
Many young bands orient themselves around algorithms – clearly not you.
How important is reach compared to long-term impact?
“Reach is temporary. Impact lasts. We want to write songs that grow, not ones that burn out quickly. If music accompanies people over a longer period of time, that’s worth more than any algorithm.”
If you see your music as an engine:
what keeps it running – discipline, passion, or a certain stubbornness?
“It’s a mixture of everything. Passion lights the fire, discipline keeps it burning – but in the end, it’s stubbornness. That inner certainty that you keep going, no matter what the road looks like.”
If someone hears ‘Soul On Fire‘ for the first time years from now:
what should they feel about Overhead Valve Engine without knowing your name?
“They should feel that this music is real. Groundedness, warmth, pressure. The feeling that people are playing here who mean what they do – and that these songs can stand on their own, without a name, without context.”
‘Soul On Fire‘ doesn’t chase relevance or recognition.
It stands as a document of intent – rooted in movement, shaped by restraint, and powered by the belief that rock music still works best when it sounds human.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“Artistic freedom is a never-ending battle.”

“Optimism is born from innocence, and life makes it harder to keep.”

“Rock ’n’ roll can express joy, danger, recklessness, empathy, sorrow, and lust.”

“What keeps hope alive is the love of friends and family… and a little Jack Daniels.”

“An album should never sound like the same idea repeated over and over.”

“Billy and I could finish each other’s musical thoughts – that’s why we’re the Cosmic Twins.”

“It’s my party – everyone is invited.”

‘One Thing Left To Do‘ captures Kevin Steele at his most honest and unfiltered.
Speaking with Fok ‘bs‘, the veteran songwriter opens up about freedom, excess, hope, and the personal truths embedded in his latest work.
‘One Thing Left To Do‘ carries a sense of arrival rather than introduction.
What does it mean, personally, to arrive at a place where nothing needs to be proven anymore?
“One word, freedom.”
Freedom is a recurring idea around this album.
Do you see artistic freedom as something you claim once, or something you have to continuously defend as life and expectations change?
“It’s a never ending battle. You have to fight label people, record producers, video directors and sometimes fellow band members, I would suggest that if you take a hard stand from the get – go and make people aware of your stance in no uncertain terms it sets a precedent and lets people know you are not a pushover.”
Your songs often balance hope and weariness.
Do you believe optimism has more weight when it’s earned through experience rather than innocence?
“Well I would say that optimism is born from innocence and the more that real life beats you down the harder it is to maintain. That’s the trick, isn’t it?”
When you write about your past with such openness, are you trying to understand it better yourself, or to offer listeners a mirror for their own stories?
“The latter. I understand my past all too well. I have always hoped that my music might provide the same escape for someone that other people’s music did for me as a child. That has been a primary motivation for me since the beginning. That and the girls!”
Across decades of making music, what have you learned about the difference between survival and purpose – and where does this album sit between those two ideas?
“Well I’ll admit I haven’t learned much. For me there isn’t a big difference. I do what I do because I love it and I’ve always written songs to please myself and hoped that others would share my enthusiasm. I’ve never given much thought to survival, maybe to my own detriment. I guess I’m rather reckless in that regard.”
The record draws from many musical languages without feeling fragmented.
Philosophically speaking, do you see identity as something unified, or as a collection of contradictions that coexist?
“Oh, life itself is a collection of contradictions that coexist and wouldn’t it all be so extremely boring if it wasn’t. An album is a collection of ideas and who wants to listen to the same idea over and over? I don’t. If you present them with your own sense of style, hopefully there will be a certain amount of cohesiveness. I’ve always loved a wide range of musical genres and I enjoy writing in many of them. I find bands who don’t rather dull.”
‘There’s A Better Day Comin’‘ feels almost like a statement of belief.
In moments of doubt, what keeps belief alive for you – faith, memory, or sheer stubbornness?
“I’d like to make it clear that ‘There’s A Better Day Comin’’ is not a religious song in any way. It is a song about hope. We all need a little of that in this world we live in today. So if you are asking me what keeps hope alive for me then I would say, as corny as it might sound, the love of friends and family. That and a little Jack Daniels.”
Collaboration can either dilute or deepen personal expression.
How do you know when another voice is helping you tell your truth rather than reshaping it?
“Well I’ve always had a very strong vision for what I wanted my music to say and how I wanted it to sound so I know right away if someone is in tune with that vision or not. I welcome collaboration that helps me achieve my goal and I have no time for anyone that hinders it.”
The album title suggests both an ending and an obligation.
Is there a sense in which artists owe something – to themselves, to the music, or to the people listening?
“Maybe selfishly, I’ve never felt an obligation to anyone other than myself. My whole philosophy concerning rock ‘n’ roll is to have a good time. It’s my party but everyone is invited. And please, bring a friend!”
Time changes the way we hear our own voice.
When you listen back to this album, do you hear the man you were, the man you are, or the man you’re still becoming?
“This album, like all my others, is a snapshot in time. They are a reflection of where I’m at that time in my life. I try not to dwell on the past, I have no idea where I’ll be tomorrow so I would have to say I hear who I am or are trying to be now.”
Rock ’n’ roll has always carried myths of rebellion and excess.
At this stage of your life, what do you think the genre is truly capable of expressing?
“No myth for me. I’m afraid I’ve lived a life of extreme rebellion and excess. I believe rock ’n’ roll is capable of expressing the same things it always has, joy, danger, recklessness, empathy, sorrow, exceleration and lust. It’s only rock ’n’ roll but I like it!”
Working so closely with Billy Summer, you’ve described a rare musical understanding between you.
What role does trust play in allowing personal ideas to fully reveal themselves?
“For me it’s an absolute must! How could you reveal personal ideas and vulnerabilities without trust? Billy and I shared a musical camaraderie at an almost supernatural level. You’ve heard of twins who finish each other’s sentences? Well Billy and I found that we could finish each other’s musical thoughts. That’s why the production is credited to the ‘Cosmic Twins’.”
After listeners experience ‘One Thing Left To Do‘ in its entirety, what do you hope stays with them long after the record has ended?
“A smile.”
‘One Thing Left To Do‘ stands as a snapshot of Kevin Steele’s present moment – honest, unfiltered, and driven by instinct rather than expectation.
It’s a reminder that rock ’n’ roll doesn’t need myths or reinvention, only conviction and heart.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“We just write the music the way it feels right to us.”

“We’re not gurus or preachers – we just want to create music that connects.”

“Metal fans tend to be very passionate in a genuine way. The music usually comes first.”

“Maintaining control over the creative process affects the honesty of the music one hundred percent.”

“We’re not a virtuoso-focused band. Emotion always comes first.”

“We’re not a band that blindly follows trends or fashions, and we’re fine with that.”

“We throw everything into the same cauldron, chant a spell, and somehow it works.”

“Metal used to be a stronger social force; today it works differently, but it can still reflect the world around us.”

Balancing soaring melodies with heavy metal force is a craft that demands instinct rather than calculation.
In this interview, the band behind ‘Divine Power Flowing‘ speaks with Fok ‘bs‘ about emotional honesty, modern mythology, creative independence, and why true power in metal has nothing to do with preaching.
You describe your sound as melodic and epic, yet firmly rooted in heavy and power metal.
How do you balance grandeur with emotional intimacy in your music?
“It comes naturally, I guess. Melody is a core element of power metal, so we don’t really force that balance. We just write the music the way it feels right to us.”
‘Divine Power Flowing‘ feels almost like a spiritual manifesto.
What kind of energy or philosophy do you hope your listeners absorb from it?
“We’ll be more than happy if people simply enjoy the songs. We’re not gurus or preachers, we just want to create music that connects.”
Your lyrics often explore inner struggle and personal growth.
Do you see metal as a tool for self-reflection, or more as a weapon to challenge the world around you?
“It depends on the band. We’re not a political band, although some of our lyrics can be interpreted as criticism of the society we live in. Music used to be a stronger social force in the past, nowadays it’s different.”
Galicia has a rich cultural heritage and mythic imagery.
How does your regional identity shape the stories you tell in your songs?
“Hard to say exactly. The weather, the landscape, the atmosphere, our way of being… all of that inevitably shapes who we are and how we create music.”
Many of your tracks draw inspiration from video games, manga, and pop culture.
How do these modern myths compare to traditional mythologies in giving meaning to your music?
“Some modern stories could be considered mythological in their own way, but they’re different kinds of creatures. We simply write about what we like. We’re not a fantasy or epic power metal band in the traditional sense.”
Epic choruses and soaring vocals dominate your sound.
Do you think heavy metal can carry a kind of collective emotional catharsis that other genres cannot?
“That’s defined by the audience and the community around the genre. Metal fans tend to be very passionate in a genuine way. Unlike pop idol culture, in metal the music itself usually comes first…if we ignore the carnival-style bands, of course haha.”
‘Divine Power Flowing‘ was largely self-recorded and produced.
How does maintaining control over your creative process affect the honesty or integrity of the music?
“100%. No more, no less.”
Your riffs are both technical and heroic.
How do you ensure that musical virtuosity never overshadows the emotion behind the songs?
“We’re not a virtuoso-focused band, so that’s never really been an issue for us. It’s not something we actively worry about, to be honest.”
Darkness and hope coexist in your lyrics.
Do you see metal as a way to confront the shadow aspects of life without losing sight of aspiration?
“Metal can help with that, sure, but confronting the darker sides of life requires much more than music alone. Still, it can be a powerful companion in that process.”
The album conveys personal growth while remaining aggressive and energetic.
Do you believe struggle is necessary for transformation, both in life and in art?
“The most important thing is to do what you truly like and not be obsessed with other people’s opinions. A band grows through work, effort, enjoyment, and having the right people around you. After that, it’s also a matter of time.”
In an age of streaming algorithms and short attention spans, how do you maintain a long-form, narrative-driven approach to album-making?
“We try to keep the spirit alive while somwhow adapting to how times are changing. We’re not a band that blindly follows trends or fashions and we’re fine with that.”
Divine Power Flowing blends personal, mythic, and pop-culture elements.
How do you navigate the line between authenticity and inspiration when borrowing from stories outside your own life?
“We throw everything into the same cauldron, chant a spell, and wait for the elixir to be ready. Somehow, it usually works.”
When someone finishes listening to ‘Divine Power Flowing‘, what reaction matters most to you:
awe, reflection, or empowerment?
“TRUE POWER!”
Rather than chasing trends or crafting grand statements, ‘Divine Power Flowing‘ stands as a record shaped by instinct, passion, and creative autonomy.
It’s an album that embraces melody and strength not as opposites, but as forces that grow stronger when allowed to coexist naturally.
Fok ‘bs’

“SKÜLL was a dream come true. Once I realized GarageBand was a real tool, I wrote twenty songs in two months.”

“I never arrange my music to be conventional. I want every song to last from the first note to the last.”

“It’s not about who’s involved – it’s about what happens when we make music together.”

“The revelation was finding a voice that could finally do all the songs the way I intended.”

“I don’t see myself as a musician – I just write songs.”

“Some ideas go back to the ’80s and ’90s, but new songs come from the need to not do what everyone else would do.”

“Uncertainty isn’t a risk. It’s what keeps SKÜLL alive.”

“Why release music at all? Because it’s what we do – we create and let it be heard.”

SKÜLL has never been about permanence, nostalgia, or preserving a legacy – it has always existed as an idea driven by instinct, independence, and the refusal to follow convention.
In this in-depth interview, Lars Jahnson, mastermind behind SKÜLL, speaks to Fok ‘bs‘ about creating without safety nets, continuing stories instead of honoring them, and why uncertainty remains the engine behind his songwriting.
SKÜLL has always felt more like a mindset than a fixed band.
At this point, how do you personally define what SKÜLL actually is?
“Sküll was a dream come true in many ways. Once I learned that GarageBand was a real tool that I could use it took me about 2 months to write the first 20 songs and 10 of them made it to the album. I engaged 3 vocalists and 1 drummer and added some friend from the passed to join as well. Today it is a band with a new vocalist – doing some re-recordings and some new songs in hopes that we will be well received on the way.”
‘Who Killed The Rooster‘ doesn’t revisit the past – it confronts it.
What made you decide that continuing the story was more honest than paying tribute?
“Thomas Jönsson who wrote lyrics and sang on the original got one direction from me… I hear ‘Who killed the Rooster’ as a line and that was based on the fact that I thought about Alice In Chains when I wrote the music.”
You’ve worked behind the scenes of Swedish rock history for decades.
When did you realize you no longer wanted to curate other people’s legacy, but create your own?
“When I started the Zeppelin-Awards in 1991 I just had an idea, as the Swedish Grammy didn’t include Hardrock/Metal… so I did it on my own. At the same time I started a record label and during the years I also did some management work. 1995 was the last award event and by that time Grunge and alternative pop/rock had killed the attention of the heavier music.”
Anton Darusso brings a much darker, more confrontational vocal presence.
Did his voice change the emotional direction of SKÜLL, or simply reveal something that was already there?
“Antons range as a vocalist is what I love to work with and when he got on board to some of my new songs I felt that it was all I needed to keep the band name and do some new releases. The revelation I got was that there is a voice that can do all songs as I intended.”
David Shankle and Ian Haugland are iconic names, yet the song never turns into a ‘guest showcase‘. How conscious are you about keeping SKÜLL’s identity intact when working with heavy personalities?
“I have never been the one to flaunt the people I know and when it comes to making music it’s not based on one or two people – it’s all about what we do together with the music we play. As for working with iconic or well known musicians I just give them the song, some pointers on what I’m looking for and then the do it. It’s not hard to work with the best… they know what to do and lean in to the music.”
The new material feels less nostalgic and far less forgiving than ‘Epistle I‘.
Was that a reaction to the world changing – or to you changing?
“‘Epistle I’ was very much my own musical journey of writing my first album, some of the songs and ideas goes back to the 80s and 90s – ideas I kept with me in my head. New songs will be in the same character, not so conventional and more based on creativity and the need to NOT do as everyone else would have done.”
Who ‘Killed The Rooster‘ sounds accusatory rather than reflective.
Who or what is actually on trial in this song?
“As I know it to be, The Rooster is the head of everything and he may have made his return again so we need to find the ones who killed the rooster – the first time…”
You’ve said SKÜLL is built song by song, with intent.
What tells you that a song deserves to exist – especially now, when you don’t need to prove anything anymore?
“Every time I write a song I get a feel or thought on how I want it to be, that is also the foundation to bring in other musicians so that they know where I come from with the song. The final edit never ends up as a cover, but I still feel and know what I thought when I made the demo. Nowadays it is a bit different as I need to find new inspiration in order to make new songs… This is all based on the fact that I am not a musician – I just write songs.”
Having organized Zeppelingalan and worked close to the industry, you know how recognition works.
Does that knowledge free you creatively – or make you more resistant to expectations?
“I never follow what’s expected as I arrange my music on NOT being conventional… that may give the listener a wow moment or an ick moment, but I want every song to last from the first note to the last.”
SKÜLL isn’t a band that hides its influences, but it doesn’t romanticize them either.
How do you personally distinguish inspiration from self-imitation?
“Some songs might sound different to the listeners but If someone says it songs like this and that and that is what I was thinking – then it is all good. My inspiration may not come out as that based on how it is mixed and what other musicians do with their instrument.”
With the new line-up and heavier direction, do you feel SKÜLL is finally aligned with how you always heard it in your head – or is it still evolving?
“The production of a song is always flowing and might even stray from what I intended at first, that is the beauty of working together, that any song can develop during the recording of a song.”
You’re releasing new material without guarantees, labels, or a finished album.
Is uncertainty a risk for you – or the very fuel that keeps SKÜLL alive?
“Today I enjoy the support from a label and with that all singles and the future album will be released. The risk I took at first have led met to this spot where I can make it into a band together with Anton and we are all-in to offer fans of Hard Rock Heavy Metal what we do.”
If this new chapter does lead to a full album, what would make you feel it was truly necessary – not just another release, but a statement worth leaving behind?
“That is a very good question; why should anyone even release their own music… if not just to do it because it is your music that you made into a track ready to be heard!? For me as a songwriter and the musicians involved it is just what we do… we create and release what we’ve done together.”
For Lars Jahnson, SKÜLL remains an open structure rather than a finished monument – shaped by collaboration, instinct, and the freedom to let songs become something unexpected.
As long as creation outweighs calculation, SKÜLL continues to exist not as a brand or legacy, but as an honest act of making music on its own terms.
by Fok ‘bs’

“From the very beginning, it was clear that the story had to take place during the Great Wrath. That era is dark and desperate enough to fully serve the narrative we wanted to tell.”

“Each song is a chapter of the same story. Sometimes we needed a war song, sometimes a chase, sometimes an execution – and the music followed that need.”

“The story is morally unclear. It contains grotesque, almost comical violence, but also shows how violence is inherited and reinforced by society itself.”

“I prefer realism over fantasy. History, war, and real social extremes interest me far more than mythological escapism.”

“The dual vocals are very intentional: one voice represents the protagonist’s inner demons, the other his own thoughts.”

“Death metal shouldn’t be beautiful. Writing music this un-melodic was actually difficult, but the story demanded it.”

“Art loses credibility when it becomes too careful. Extreme metal needs to be built on extreme emotion.”

“The story is the core of this band. We are not about technical perfection – harsh story, harsh music.”

“Violence in our lyrics has elements of shock humor, but I can’t completely turn my brain off. That tension gives the material its character.”

“For us, a harsh story demands harsh music.”

Finnish death metal project Wounded In Forest does not use history as decoration, but as a weapon.
With their debut EP ‘Antihuman Artist‘, the band plunges into the darkness of the Great Wrath (Isoviha), one of the bleakest chapters in Finnish history, crafting a brutal, morally ambiguous narrative where violence breeds violence and no character is innocent.
In this in-depth interview, drummer and mastermind Jussi Tuomisto speaks to Fok ‘bs‘ about historical storytelling, dual vocal psychology, restraint in brutality, and why extreme metal must be rooted in extreme emotion to remain truthful.
‘Antihuman Artist‘ is based on an extremely dark period in Finnish history.
What drew you specifically to the era of the Great Wrath (Isoviha) as the foundation for your debut release?
“Good question. As far as I remember, we didn’t really consider any alternative periods at all. From a very early stage it was clear that the story would be set during the Great Wrath. I had been interested in the events of that era for years before the EP – or even the band – existed. I even visited the memorial sites of the Battle of Kostianvirta some years ago. The artillery pits and tar-scented, log-reinforced battle positions really fired up my imagination, and the place left a strong impression on me. Perhaps that period is simply dark and desperate enough to fit perfectly with the story of ‘Antihuman Artist’.”
The EP tells one continuous story rather than separate, standalone songs.
Did you approach the writing process more like authors than traditional songwriters?
“Let’s say at least more like authors. At a very early stage of the project, I wrote a framework for the entire story, which I then shared with the rest of the band and used as the basis for the lyrics. If I remember correctly, the lyrics for the first song (‘Altar of Needles’) were written at the same time. Each song is essentially one chapter of the story, and it was interesting to work on tracks with a specific narrative function in mind – first a war song, then a chase, then an execution, and so on. The story also influenced the music itself, like the tom hits in ‘Virent Carnes’, which I wanted to sound like synchronized cannon fire.”
The antihero you portray is both a victim of violence and its perpetrator.
Was it important for you to avoid clear moral judgments in the story?
“Yes and no. On one hand, the story includes traditional death metal–style violent excess that borders on the macabre and the comical. On the other hand, it also tells how violence can be inherited and even reinforced by society itself. I would say the story of the EP is morally ambiguous.”
Finnish history is explored far less often in extreme metal than mythology or fantasy.
Do you see historical storytelling as a counterpoint to escapism?
“Personally, I’m not very fond of fantasy as a genre. Mythology is also a subject I don’t necessarily feel connected to, even though it can be interesting. I’ve always liked writing about real things, and I value realism in almost everything. I’m into history and military history, as well as true stories about extreme social injustices and dark phenomena within society.”
The dual-vocal approach feels central to the EP’s psychological tension.
How consciously did you assign emotional states or narrative roles to each vocal style?
“Very consciously. For example, in the verses of ‘Godspeed Filthy Warrior’, the higher vocals represent the protagonist’s inner demons speaking, while the lower vocals are the protagonist’s own thoughts. Similar role divisions appear in other songs as well.”
The music balances old-school death metal aggression with structural and melodic moments.
How do you decide when brutality should dominate and when restraint serves the story better?
“I don’t think about it in a very deliberate way – it feels somewhat self-evident. In general, one challenge of the project has been keeping excessive melody in check. Writing music this un-melodic was actually very difficult, but there was always the idea in the back of my mind that death metal shouldn’t be too melodic, and the story itself isn’t beautiful or harmonious either. Some songs were even dropped entirely once we realized they didn’t fit the overall picture.”
Forming a band after the loss of a long-time bandmate is a heavy starting point.
How did grief shape Wounded In Forest’s identity and sense of urgency?
“We were a bit lost with everything, and the idea of bringing in a new drummer to the old band just felt wrong. The original idea behind Wounded In Forest was to create a simpler, more straightforward version of the previous band so we could continue with the same people. The goal was to create something more traditional, with a clear template to work within. Each of us had to learn something new to make it work. Speaking for myself, the first shows as a drummer after more than 20 years of playing guitar were definitely nerve-racking. That said, being behind the drums on stage feels like the right place for me, since I don’t enjoy being in the spotlight.”
Your songs are violent, but they don’t glorify violence.
Where do you personally draw the line between depicting violence and aestheticizing it?
“I think our depictions of violence have comedic elements, similar to bands like Cannibal Corpse. They’re partly shock humor. Initially, the idea may have been to focus entirely on that style, but more serious elements emerged through the historical narrative. Much like with melody in the music, it seems I can’t fully switch my brain off – and I can’t completely abandon melody either. Hopefully, this gives the material a unique substance.”
The EP title ‘Antihuman Artist‘ suggests creation through destruction.
How does this idea reflect your broader view of art, especially extreme metal?
“Art can’t be too careful – that kills its credibility, in my opinion. Art is at its best when it’s rooted in extreme emotion. Especially in extreme metal, it’s crucial that the material is grounded in something truly intense.”
Many death metal bands focus primarily on atmosphere or technicality.
How important is it to you that listeners actually follow and understand the story you’re telling?
“It’s very important – that’s the core of our material. It’s obvious that we don’t represent the cutting edge of technical ability, and we’ve consciously kept melodic atmospheres to a minimum. The story and the ideas beneath it are what we’re about. For us, story and music support each other: a harsh story demands harsh music.”
Oulu has a strong metal heritage.
How has the local scene influenced your sound or discipline as a band?
“It has definitely influenced all of us, since we grew up listening to albums by Sentenced, Catamenia, and Kalmah. Especially Sentenced is a kind of sacred institution for metalheads in this town. Personally, I don’t feel any pressure from the success of those bands – we’re purely doing our own thing. I don’t think our production or songwriting needs to be as ‘good’ as our influences. But overall, it’s great that our city has this legacy, and at its best it brings a certain dark energy to metal coming out of here.”
Each of your releases is built as its own historical narrative.
Does this format give you creative freedom, or does it create new pressure every time?
“Personally, I’ve enjoyed having this more defined framework as a guide for creation. It sharpens the focus and keeps the material more coherent as a whole. Of course, it also brings challenges – right now, for example, I can’t write any new lyrics at all until the entire story has a structure and a historical period has been chosen.”
When a listener experiences the ‘Antihuman Artist‘ EP as a whole, which reaction feels most honest to you:
discomfort, reflection, or emotional exhaustion?
“All reactions are valid. Everyone responds in their own way, based on their personal experiences. I don’t want to impose any predefined way of experiencing the EP. Personally, I’m a reflective person, so I would probably respond to the material in a contemplative way.”
With ‘Antihuman Artist‘, Wounded In Forest strip death metal down to its emotional core, rejecting escapism in favor of historical confrontation and moral ambiguity.
As Jussi Tuomisto makes clear, this is not violence for spectacle’s sake, but a reminder that the darkest stories are often the most real – and the most necessary to tell.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“We are making sure every riff, melody, or arrangement feels like us, no matter how far we push the music.”

“With ‘Artificial Imprisonment’, we were more methodical – building songs, shaping structures, refining melodies.”

“Isolation made us look inward, reflecting on control, freedom, and the psychological pressures of modern life.”

“’Artificial Imprisonment’ is about that feeling of being trapped, whether by circumstance, expectation, or invisible systems.”

“Dynamics were everything. We wanted moments of intensity to hit harder, and atmospheric passages to breathe.”

“Standing on stage with Annihilator reminded us that we belong on this level.”

“We write music for four people primarily – us. If more people like it, that’s awesome.”

“Experience has taught us that restraint can be more powerful than excess.”

“For us, metal is freedom. It’s raw, unfiltered, and authentic.”

Dreamlord’s return was never meant to be a nostalgic exercise.
What began as a revival quickly transformed into something sharper, darker, and more deliberate, shaped by new material and a renewed sense of purpose.
With ‘Artificial Imprisonment‘, the Greek metal act distills years of experience, isolation, and reflection into a focused statement about control, freedom, and modern psychological pressure.
In this interview with Fok ‘bs‘, Dreamlord reflect on leaving the past behind, refining their sound between classic heavy metal and thrash aggression, and how confinement – both personal and societal – became the conceptual backbone of their most disciplined release to date.
Dreamlord were formed as a revival of an earlier project.
At what point did the band stop feeling like a continuation of the past and start feeling like something entirely its own?
“In the first few months, we mostly played songs from the first phase of the band. But as we started composing new material, the older songs were gradually phased out completely. That’s when Dreamlord stopped feeling like a continuation of the past and started to feel like something entirely its own. Writing original material that reflected who we were in the present gave the band its own identity, energy, and voice – separate from anything that came before.”
From the beginning, your sound has been rooted in classic heavy metal while moving into darker, more contemporary territory.
How do you decide how far to push that balance without losing your core identity?
“On the first album, our style leaned more toward a heavy/thrash hybrid, combining classic metal elements with thrash aggression. On ‘Artificial Imprisonment’, we moved more decisively into pure thrash territory, while still keeping those heavy metal influences that define our sound. It’s always about instinct and honesty. Making sure every riff, melody, or arrangement feels like us, no matter how far we push the music.”
‘Artificial Imprisonment‘ feels more focused and conceptual than your debut.
What shifted in your mindset between Disciples of War and this new album?
“With ‘Artificial Imprisonment’, we approached songwriting more deliberately. On ‘Disciples of War’, a lot came from instinct and raw energy. Here, we were more methodical. Building songs, shaping structures, refining melodies. We wanted every track to contribute to a unified whole, both thematically and emotionally. It’s the same band, but a more disciplined, concentrated expression of who we are now.”
The pandemic forced many bands to slow down or stop.
For Dreamlord, how did that period of isolation change the way you approached songwriting and lyrical themes?
“The pandemic caused the big gap between albums, but it also gave us the time to realize the importance of the band in our lives, so we came back to it more focused and energized. Isolation made us look inward, reflecting on control, freedom, and the psychological pressures of modern life. Most of the songs on ‘Artificial Imprisonment’ were written during that period, which gave us the time to fine-tune everything and develop very strong preproduction. Songwriting became a way to process these experiences, and lyrically it pushed us to explore themes of confinement, personal and societal, channeling frustration, fear, and resilience into the music.”
Themes like control, dehumanization, and loss of freedom run through the new album.
Do you see ‘Artificial Imprisonment‘ as a reflection of specific events, or more as a psychological state of modern life?
“It’s both. Certain tracks were inspired by real-world events, but the album as a whole reflects a broader psychological reality. How society, technology, and structures of power can constrain individuals. ‘Artificial Imprisonment’ is about that feeling of being trapped, whether by circumstance, expectation, or invisible systems that shape our lives.”
Musically, the album balances aggression with atmosphere.
How important was dynamics in shaping the emotional impact of the record?
“Dynamics were everything. We wanted moments of intensity to hit harder, and atmospheric passages to breathe. The contrasts create tension and release, mirroring the themes of confinement and struggle. It’s about making the listener feel the weight and the release, not just hearing the music.”
Sharing the stage with Annihilator in 2019 was a key moment for the band.
How did that experience influence your confidence or ambitions going forward?
“That show was a validation. Standing on stage with a band of that stature reminded us that we belong on this level and gave us confidence to push further. It showed us the standards we aspire to, both in performance and in professionalism, and reinforced our ambition to grow without compromising who we are.”
The video for ‘No Room for the Dead‘ adds a strong visual layer to the album’s themes.
How involved were you in shaping its symbolism and cinematic tone?
“We were deeply involved. From storyboarding to visual motifs, we wanted the imagery to amplify the album’s concepts. Control, dehumanization, and despair. This song speaks directly about the pandemic, so we wanted to combine shots from the band’s live shows with imagery of the COVID era to remind ourselves and the world of the dark period we all experienced. Even today, as I watch footage from back then, I find it so unbelievable that that was our reality at the time. Every shot, every angle, was considered to make the video feel like an extension of the music, not just a companion piece.”
Greek metal has a strong identity but often exists outside the mainstream spotlight.
How do you view your role within the Greek metal underground today?
“We see ourselves as part of a bigger network, a community that thrives on dedication rather than trends. Greek metal has a rich identity, and we want to contribute to it, to push it forward without losing its essence. As far as we are concerned, we play the music we like to hear. We write music for four people primarily. Us. If more people like what we do, this is awesome and we love it.”
Live performance has always been central to Dreamlord.
How do the songs from ‘Artificial Imprisonment‘ change the energy or atmosphere of your live set?
“We love playing live. The new songs add depth and intensity and blend really well with our older material to create a varied setlist. They’re built to hit hard, but they also breathe, creating tension and release live. They change the dynamics of our set, making it more immersive. Heavy moments balanced with atmospheric passages.”
Compared to your earlier material, the new album feels more restrained and deliberate.
Has experience taught you when not to add more riffs or ideas?
“Absolutely. Experience has taught us that restraint can be more powerful than excess. You don’t need to fill every moment with noise; sometimes space and pacing create the impact. It’s about knowing when a riff, melody, or harmony truly serves the song and when it would just distract.”
In a world that often feels increasingly artificial and controlled, what does heavy metal still offer as a form of resistance or freedom for you personally?
“For us, metal is freedom. It’s a way to push back, to express anger, frustration, and individuality. It’s raw, unfiltered, and authentic – everything that counterbalances the artificiality and control we experience in life. It allows us to reclaim our voice and energy.”
When listeners reach the end of ‘Artificial Imprisonment‘, what do you hope stays with them long after the music stops?
“We hope they carry the feeling of reflection and intensity. That the album leaves them thinking about freedom, control, and personal responsibility. And that it lingers in their head and heart, reminding them that music can provoke, challenge, and move – even after the last note fades.”
‘Artificial Imprisonment‘ captures Dreamlord at a point where instinct meets discipline and aggression is sharpened by intent rather than excess.
By embracing restraint, atmosphere, and thematic clarity, the band has forged a record that reflects both personal growth and a wider unease with modern life.
Rather than offering easy answers, Dreamlord leave listeners with tension, reflection, and a lingering sense of confrontation – proof that heavy metal remains a powerful tool for expression, resistance, and emotional release when handled with honesty and purpose.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“I don’t like style tags – if you listen to Iron Bones, you get the idea.”

“Useless and light audiovisual content is the real poison. People don’t realize that a cellphone holds the best library in the world.”

“Attack the problem beneath, where it starts – not the puppets.”

“Just play what you want, and don’t play like a wanna-be.”

“We don’t need credibility. Who likes the band, it’s ok. Who doesn’t, ok too. Stay humble.”

With ‘Poison Riot‘, Iron Bones strip heavy music down to instinct, velocity, and attitude.
In this interview conducted by Fok ‘bs‘, the Chilean band talk about rejecting labels, cutting through digital emptiness, and why speed, mysticism, and rock ’n’ roll are less about spectacle than about instinct, balance, and personal reaction.
You describe your sound as Heavy Speed Roll.
Beyond tempo and aggression, what attitude or worldview separates this from traditional speed or thrash metal?
“I don’t like style tags, if you listen to Iron Bones you get the idea of a mix, where speed, heavy and rock and roll, can fix, but not exactly.”
‘Poison Riot‘ feels less like an album title and more like a diagnosis.
What exactly is the poison you see spreading through society right now?
“Useless and light audiovisual content, people don’t realize that in a cellphone you have the best library of the world.”
Many bands talk about rebellion, but your lyrics confront illusion rather than authority.
Why is exposing false beliefs more dangerous than attacking power directly?
“Attack the problem beneath, where it start, not the puppets.”
Chile has a long history of political tension and resistance.
How consciously does your geographical and cultural background shape the anger in your music?
“Nothing, that political history as you said, its history.”
Speed can easily become empty spectacle.
How do you make sure velocity serves meaning rather than replacing it?
“It serves to the chosen ones.”
‘Strigoi (Bringer of Death)‘ blends mysticism with social decay.
What role does myth play in helping you talk about very real, modern corruption?
“Reality comes whit mysticism, and mysticism comes whit reality.”
Your music draws from Motörhead, Venom, and hardcore without sounding like homage.
How do you keep influence from turning into repetition?
“Just playing what you want, and not playing like a wanna be.”
There’s a strong rock ’n’ roll pulse beneath the death metal aggression.
Is groove, for you, a form of discipline inside chaos?
“It is like life, yin yang stuff.”
You reject gimmicks and polish, yet the album sounds focused and deliberate.
Where do you personally draw the line between rawness and carelessness?
“I do it whit my ears, nothing is planned, I listen and I know if I like it or not.”
The imagery around ‘Poison Riot‘ suggests internal collapse rather than external enemies.
Do you see the greatest battles as psychological rather than political?
“That’s what you saw, and that’s great, I hope everyone have their own ‘suggestions’.”
In a time when heavy music often chases trends or algorithms, what does credibility actually mean to Iron Bones?
“Don’t need credibility, who likes the band its ok, who don’t, ok too, stay humble.”
Coming from the Chilean underground, how important is self-reliance to your identity as a band – and what would you refuse to compromise even with wider exposure?
“I don´t know, I have goals, but, I live step by step, looking to the future too much gives you anxiety.”
When someone finishes listening to ‘Poison Riot‘, what reaction matters more to you:
adrenaline, discomfort, or recognition?
“To have a couple of drinks and listen to it again!”
‘Poison Riot’ doesn’t ask for agreement, validation, or credibility – it exists on its own terms.
Iron Bones operate on instinct rather than strategy, trusting speed, groove, and raw perception to do the work, and leaving listeners free to take from the album whatever hits them hardest.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“From the very first plans to make a new album, we naturally entered a new era.”

“Writing isn’t a rational process for me; it develops organically and always ends up where it needs to be.”

“My work as a psychologist inevitably finds its way into the lyrics – it’s simply how my brain works.”

“Nature is a powerful force where everything is interconnected – and we are part of that cycle.”

“Inner strength and transformation are collective elements; they belong to everyone in the band.”

“Jacob Hansen is a master of sound – every time I hear what he’s done, it still moves me.”

“I write for vibe and images; it’s almost like composing film themes.”

“Kimberley doesn’t just sing the lyrics – she truly embodies them.”

“Our music will always have storytelling, cinematic bombast, and a touch of prog and goth – that’s our identity.”

“We want listeners to feel like taken on a beautiful musical and emotional journey.”

With ‘The Force Of Nature‘, Epinikion enter a new phase defined by cohesion, emotional depth, and cinematic scope.
In this interview with Renate, conducted by Fok ‘bs‘, the band talk about working as a permanent lineup, nature as a narrative force, and how instinct, psychology, and symphonic power merge into their most focused statement to date.
‘The Force Of Nature‘ feels like a decisive step forward for Epinikion.
At what moment during the writing or recording process did you realize this album would define a new chapter for the band?
“From the very first plans to make a new album, we naturally entered a new era. Not only because we had a permanent lineup, but also because we learned a lot from making the first album. It’s a big difference working with a permanent team instead of individual session musicians, not least because we already knew each other a bit better and were therefore more in tune with each other.”
The album balances massive symphonic elements with very personal emotional themes.
How do you decide when a song needs grandeur – and when it needs restraint?
“The songs often emerge spontaneously and, as it were, lead themselves. Writing isn’t a rational or logical process for me; I almost let it develop naturally. Sometimes there’s already a lyric, other times there’s a melody and the lyrics still need to be added – there’s no fixed order. It’s good to hear that the lyrics resonate with me, because I primarily write on a topic, drawing on my experiences as a psychologist with the people I support. These can also be fragments of stories that fit together beautifully and make a statement. Writing is an organic process and always gets to the point where it’s supposed to be.”
Nature is more than a metaphor on this record;
it feels almost like a character.
What drew you to natural forces as a central narrative element this time?
“Thank you for experiencing it this way, it means there’s consistency in the theme that connects each song. My respect for nature is immense; it’s a powerful force in which everything is interconnected. Nature is so special that we’re constantly amazed by the brilliant processes at play there and how everything survives within the cycle. The subject lends itself perfectly to writing an album about it, connected to the power and beauty of nature. It’s good to pause for a moment and consider that we too are part of nature and should be aware of that.”
Several songs explore inner strength and transformation.
Were there specific personal or collective experiences that shaped these themes while writing the album?
“Inner strength and transformation are collective elements and therefore also pertain to the experiences of the band members. As mentioned, I primarily draw on the experiences of the people I encounter as a therapist because they offer so many beautiful examples of the themes mentioned.”
Renate’s background in psychology clearly informs the emotional depth of the material.
How consciously do psychological concepts enter your songwriting, and where do you let instinct take over?
“It’s become part of my perception that I think about topics related to emotional awareness without focusing. Call it a professional deformation, call it a deviation – that’s how my brain works. I love my job and do it with passion, so this is undeniably reflected in the development of song lyrics.”
Working again with Jacob Hansen brought a very clear, powerful production.
How did his involvement influence the way you arranged or refined the songs?
“Jacob is a master at working with sound. Every time I hear how beautifully he arranged and performed our songs, it still moves me. Jacob didn’t collaborate on the songwriting; the material was delivered to him in the form we presented, and he got to work with it. There were discussions, of course, but it went smoothly and almost naturally, with a healthy dose of humor. We’re still incredibly grateful that he wanted to work with us, because that’s not something you can take for granted.”
‘Run With The Wolves‘ stands out through its strong bond between humans and animals.
How did Nala’s presence influence the emotional direction of that song and its visual interpretation?
“Nala is a bundle of energy and joy, every single day. This cheerful lady, with her cheerful and mischievous personality, definitely influenced the song because she always makes us happy and knows how to turn a negative into a positive. This is very clear in the song, and we wanted to combine it with Kimberley’s lyrics and movements. She’s also a wonderfully positive person who never sits still, so in that sense, Nala and Kimberley are a perfect match. It really shines through in the video.”
Compared to your debut Inquisition, this album feels more focused and grounded.
What lessons did you take from your first release into the creation of ‘The Force Of Nature‘?
“Of course, every band learns from their debut album towards the next production. We’ve grown enormously technically, thanks to Robert, who fully focused on the technical aspects of writing, arranging, and playing solos. It might not be a planned progression, but working with serious and driven musicians who you get to know better and better also leads to progress. You get used to each other and develop new things together, based on the formula 1+1=3. I don’t know exactly what you mean by ‘more focused’, because I found writing individual songs less easy than writing a story where you can really focus on a specific scene and create a specific atmosphere that way. Writing about nature is definitely more ‘down-to-earth’ and therefore literally grounded. Our main focus for the theme was to create more compact lines and work a bit harder. We also wanted a better balance between the guitars and the orchestra. As far as we’re concerned, we’ve achieved good results on all counts, which is quite remarkable for a second album.”
Your music often feels cinematic, almost like scenes from a film.
Do you visualize stories or images while composing, or does the imagery emerge later through lyrics and artwork?
“An experienced American metal guitarist and teacher once told me that I’m a typical film theme writer as a composer. I write for vibe and can write for images, or vice versa. Then a musical theme pops into my head, and I ask people what images it evokes. It’s really funny to hear that so many similar stories emerge and that it sparks the listener’s imagination. It could be a good TV series or movie that inspires me, but a visit to a theme park like Efteling can also trigger all sorts of thoughts in my mind. So inspiration is definitely not the problem.”
Kimberley’s classically trained vocals play a crucial role in shaping the band’s identity.
How do you approach writing vocal lines that are both technically demanding and emotionally direct?
“Kimberley naturally has a wonderful and flexible voice. Since she’s still developing as a singer and has an inexhaustible drive to sing beautifully and well, she’s an ideal band member. Naturally, the foundation we’ve laid out for her gives her every opportunity to shape it to her own abilities and desires, which creates fantastic challenges that she embraces with all her creativity and dedication. We fully support her in this and believe the opportunity will only benefit her. This allows her to use her voice optimally, and that’s evident on the album. Kimberley is an emotional person, so when a song touches her, she has to be careful not to burst into tears, haha. That’s not only hilarious but also a testament to how much emotion she can put into a song; she truly embodies every lyric. As a listener, you naturally hear that, and that makes it even more beautiful.”
Epinikion originated from a rock opera concept.
Do you still see the band as a narrative-driven project, or has the focus shifted toward individual emotional moments?
“Epinikion started writing a debut album that’s essentially a rock opera. Due to our lack of recognition in the music world and being completely unknown, we were forced to work with session musicians and didn’t have a permanent lineup. Only after we gained more recognition and had been working for a while were we able to establish a permanent lineup, which is generally a major undertaking. Any self-respecting band understands exactly what I’m saying. That takes time, and the significant investments we’re making in all aspects makes it even more difficult to find the right people. The result is impressive; we have a wonderful team that enjoys working together and knows how to get the best out of each other. Our material will always have a storytelling element and plenty of cinematic bombast with a touch of prog and goth elements. That’s our branding, and it’s been carefully considered.”
With the album about to be brought to the stage, how do you translate such layered, symphonic material into a powerful live experience without losing its intensity?
“If it were up to me, we’d have a complete theater as a stage; theatricality couldn’t be more amazing, as far as I’m concerned. Robert has been super busy organizing fantastic risers, along with the help of Maarten and some incredibly kind people who care deeply about us. He also programmed our own light show and brought in smoke machines, which will, of course, create some truly special effects on stage. We’ll be using them during the release show, so it’s going to be incredibly intense with all those extra components on stage.”
If someone listens to ‘The Force Of Nature‘ without knowing Epinikion at all, what do you hope they understand about the band once the final track fades out?
“I hope people will be left with a good feeling, connected to a band that truly has something to say, musically, lyrically, and sound-wise, full of passion. A band that takes people on a beautiful musical and emotional journey that they can recommend to everyone!”
‘The Force Of Nature‘ marks a moment of clarity for Epinikion – not by toning down ambition, but by channeling it with purpose.
Guided by Renate’s emotionally grounded songwriting and a band finally working as one, the album stands as a powerful statement of growth, connection, and cinematic metal done with intent.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“At the very beginning we knew it was going to be a story of three EPs – we just didn’t know yet how that story would unfold.”

“We wanted to be very honest and authentic, even if that meant constantly rewriting until it felt true.”

“When you feel like you’ve lost everything and hit rock bottom, you have to figure out where to go from there.”

“Nothing Is All I Am is the starting point of rebuilding yourself – it’s not easy, and it’s not perfect.”

“It’s important for us to be honest, but not to glorify these feelings as a way to write music.”

“Most of the songs are confrontational – about dealing with emotions, not escaping them.”

“Beyond numbers and streams, we judge everything by our live shows and how people react.”

With ‘Nothing Is All I Am‘, Welsh metalcore act Virtue In Vain close a carefully planned trilogy – not with resolution, but with confrontation.
In an open and unfiltered conversation with Fok ‘bs‘, the band reflect on emotional exposure, mental health without romanticism, and why rebuilding often begins at absolute rock bottom.
‘Nothing Is All I Am‘ completes a trilogy of releases.
At what point did you realize these records were forming a larger narrative rather than separate statements?
“At the very beginning of when we started to work our first EP, we know that it was going to be a story of 3 EP’s, however we didn’t quite know how the story was going to unfold. Figuring out what the story was and how to make that as three separate releases has been enjoyable and a challenge.”
This EP feels brutally honest and emotionally exposed.
Was there any moment during writing or recording where the material felt almost too personal to release?
“Absolutely! Between ‘Reflection and Silence’ and ‘Blood Eyes’ both are a bit too personal than what we have done before. One being about overthinking and catastrophizing and one about unfiltered anger that takes over. Both really were difficult to write from a lyrics point of view. They both really went through a phase of ‘is this too real to release’ phase.”
Each track represents a distinct emotional state, from panic to anger rebuilding.
How did you translate such internal experiences into something that works musically without losing authenticity?
“For us it was about constantly going over the material and listening back over and over again. With this release, we wanted to be very honest and authentic. Over time we changed the songs and lyrics to what we are today, and we feel that we have conveyed the emotions we wanted across in each song.”
Compared to your earlier material, this EP sounds more focused and stripped back.
What did you consciously decide to remove or leave out this time?
“This is an interesting view as I think we feel we added more layers to this release. The one change we made this time was to focus on what we wanted to feel in each song. So for example if you listen to ‘Blood Eyes’ and then ‘The Wilt & I’, you can feel that emotion.”
The title ‘Nothing Is All I Am‘ suggests collapse, but also a strange form of clarity.
How do you personally interpret that phrase today?
“I (Hywel) personally feel that it’s when you feel that you have lost it all and hit rock bottom, you need to figure out where to go from here. ‘Nothing Is All I Am’ is the starting point of rebuilding yourself, it’s not an easy process and it’s not perfect, but we need to start somewhere.”
Your music confronts mental health struggles without romanticizing them.
How important is it for you to draw a line between honesty and self-indulgence?
“Very important. It is important for us to be honest about how we think and how we feel, but not glorify these as a way to write music. For us it’s about being honest and raw in our music.”
Heavy music is often described as cathartic.
For you, is writing and performing these songs more about release, confrontation, or survival?
“I suppose it depends on the song and it’s meaning. I would say for most songs is confrontational, to deal with these emotions. However, we have songs which we don’t play anymore as the story behind them we don’t relate to anymore and feel it wouldn’t be genuine to continue playing those songs.”
Your live shows are known for their intensity.
How do the songs from this EP change the emotional and physical energy of your performances?
“This EP is the most difficult to get to grips for a live show. The pace of these new songs are faster than our previous material and adding that layer of being emotionally invested into the songs, it’s a setlist that is challenging but we love rising to teh challenge.”
The EP feels pessimistic on the surface, yet necessary rather than hopeless.
Was it important for you to leave space for rebuilding and resilience within the darkness?
“Absolutely! That’s really the underlying theme to the EP. The different topics we cover throughout are uncomfortable in nature, but there is always room to grow and recover.”
As a Welsh band in the UK metalcore scene, how do your surroundings and local scene influence your identity and sound?
“There is a sense of community within the scene, supporting one another and enjoying each others music. We are big believers in supporting the metal scene both in Wales and all over the UK. When it comes to our sound, we are quite focused on being authentic to our sound of Metalcore music as we feel this sets us apart as a band.”
Working within the EP format can be limiting or liberating.
Why did this material feel better suited to an EP rather than a full-length album?
“The material we had went through so many changes so when it came down to deciding what to put on, we wanted to write an EP that told the story the way we wanted than fill out an album and feel that the story got lost.”
You’ve steadily grown your audience through consistency rather than hype.
How do you measure progress as a band beyond numbers and streams?
“We judge it form our live shows. Seeing if the crowd is into the music and what songs they are really getting behind. Aside from the metrics of it all, we just want to write good authentic music and entertain at every show we put on.”
When listeners reach the end of ‘Nothing Is All I Am‘, what do you hope they feel – or understand – about themselves, not just about Virtue In Vain?
“Through the challenges that we face in our lives, through every knock and every bad moment, it may hurt, and it may affect us, but we persevere through it all.”
Rather than offering comfort or closure, ‘Nothing Is All I Am‘ stands as a document of emotional survival – uncomfortable, necessary, and deliberately unresolved.
For Virtue In Vain, this final chapter isn’t about triumph, but about honesty, persistence, and the decision to keep moving forward when nothing feels intact.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“We are all no longer twenty, and we didn’t want to get lost in memories – we wanted to push forward and give it everything once again.”

“It’s much more exciting to rethink CAVE every day than to live off old stories.”

“We didn’t modernize our sound on purpose – but respecting our roots doesn’t stop us from questioning and reinventing ourselves.”

“With the second album, we finally wrote very consciously for a fixed lineup, knowing exactly who would bring these songs to life.”

“There is softer and harder material, modern impulses and traditional elements – that contrast is exactly what keeps it fun for us.”

“Today, every show is filmed, every mistake is permanent. In that sense, you can actually afford much less than you could years ago.”

“Vinyl forces you to listen consciously – and as a songwriter, that’s exactly what you hope for.”

“Clarity helps you get to the core faster, but you still have to question yourself constantly to avoid becoming predictable.”

“If someone hears this album for the first time, I hope they feel the honesty and personal weight behind these songs.”

“CAVE is a band that doesn’t fit neatly into one box – and that’s intentional.”

CAVE are not a band driven by nostalgia or retrospective comfort.
Rooted in decades of experience, the German progressive metal act exists to move forward rather than preserve past achievements.
With ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘, CAVE sharpen their identity, balancing classic hard ’n’ heavy foundations with modern awareness, strong songwriting discipline, and a sound built for both record and stage.
In this interview, guitarist and mastermind Chris Lorey speaks with Fok ‘bs‘ about opening new chapters later in life, refining the band’s creative focus, the transition at the microphone, and why clarity, restraint, and honest momentum matter more than chasing trends or reliving old glories.
CAVE is not a band born from a spontaneous impulse, but from decades of experience.
What was the inner trigger to open a new chapter now instead of simply looking back?
“Actually, in CAVE’s case, the initial impulse to form another band and play live again was quite spontaneous. But I do believe we all need to constantly open new chapters. Of course, it’s important to pause and look back once in a while – but if that becomes a permanent state, you get lost in the past. I often meet people who tell me their best concert was ‘Monsters of Rock 1983’ or who keep reliving tour stories from the 1990s. Personally, I always try to think one step ahead. That’s why it’s far more exciting to rethink CAVE every day than to get stuck in old stories. The real inner trigger to bring these songs onto a CD and onto the stage was simple: we all wanted to know if we still had it. We’re not twenty anymore, and instead of drowning in memories, we wanted to step on the gas again.”
Your debut ‘Out Of The Cave‘ felt like a statement of position.
In what way is ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘ a conscious evolution – and where did you deliberately stay the same?
“I’m not sure, if ‘Out Of The Cave’ was really a statement of position. Many of the songs were written over the course of years and never intended for a fixed lineup. We didn’t even have a permanent singer in mind at that point. The evolution toward ‘…Into The Promised Land…’ lies in the fact that we now wrote very consciously for a fixed band. We knew who the singer was, how he would interpret the songs, and what the strengths of each musician were. That made some arrangements much more straightforward. What definitely stayed the same is our refusal to limit ourselves. There’s still softer and heavier material, modern impulses and traditional elements – that contrast defines us and keeps things exciting.”
The title ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘ suggests hope, departure, maybe even illusion.
Is this ‘promised land‘ a real place for you, or a state that can never truly be reached?
“I think it’s more of an illusion – or rather a vision – than an actual destination. In today’s world, the title also carries a bit of irony or sarcasm. With ‘Out Of The Cave’, we left the cave behind. Now the question is where the journey leads. ‘Into The Promised Land’ points in a direction, while also reflecting a certain skepticism when you look at the current political and economic situation.”
The change at the microphone felt like a transition rather than a rupture.
What did Tommy Laasch bring into the band – musically and personally – that was missing before?
“Thank you for putting it that way, because that’s exactly how it felt to us. When Ronny couldn’t perform due to an infection at the ROW Festival, Tommy stepped in spontaneously – and it worked immediately. Both Ronny and Tommy are fantastic singers with different strengths. Tommy’s particular strength lies in harmonies and multi-layered vocals, and he brought great new impulses into the recording process. He’s also an exceptional entertainer on stage and connects effortlessly with the audience. On a personal level, everything fits just as well – not least because we can speak Swabian dialect together. The distances are short, and spontaneity is much easier.”
Many bands talk about ‘chemistry‘ with new members.
When did you realize this lineup would last?
“Honestly, probably on the afternoon of the ROW Festival in Esslingen. The experience, the immediate musical interaction, the shared ambition – and, of course, the show itself made it very clear that something special had happened. Tommy is one of the easiest singers I’ve ever worked with. No diva behavior at all, very professional, and full of great ideas. That makes the whole process incredibly enjoyable.”
CAVE combine classic hard ’n’ heavy with progressive structures without sounding nostalgic.
Where do you draw the line between respecting your roots and standing still?
“We don’t overthink it too much. We’re music fans ourselves and constantly listen to new things. The ’80s and ’90s are deeply rooted in our DNA because we grew up with them – but that doesn’t stop us from drawing inspiration from modern artists. Liking Queensrÿche and Falling In Reverse at the same time isn’t a contradiction to me. We respect our roots, but that respect doesn’t prevent us from reinventing ourselves.”
Your sound is powerful, warm, and direct – never clinical or overproduced.
Is that an aesthetic choice or also a statement against modern metal production?
“It’s both. We invest a lot of time discussing sound with our mixer Marc Ayerle. The challenge is to sound as natural as possible while still being modern enough to hold up in playlists. Marc always emphasizes that the classic aspects of our songs must also be reflected in the sound. This back-and-forth worked even better on the second album because our communication is clearer and more open now.”
You released ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘ on vinyl for the first time.
What does that format mean to you in an age of constant background listening?
“Vinyl forces you to listen consciously. You place the record on the turntable, listen to about 23 minutes, then turn it over. Those minutes are experienced much more intensely. As a composer, that’s exactly what you want – focused listening. Fans who buy the album on vinyl are probably closer to the compositions and the emotions we want to express.”
With long musical careers behind you, what can you allow yourselves today that wasn’t possible in the past?
“Honestly, it’s the other way around. Today, every show is filmed, every mistake is documented and uploaded instantly. You can afford far less than you could back then. There’s also no real privacy anymore – neither on stage nor backstage. Everything can end up on social media within seconds.”
CAVE quickly proved to be a real live band.
What must a song deliver to work both on record and on stage?
“That’s the million-dollar question. Playing live has definitely influenced how we wrote the second album. Some songs work very differently with an audience than expected. For example, we thought ‘Blinded’ might be too long live – but it turned out to be one of the strongest crowd reactions. That experience now shapes how we write.”
Do you feel age-related expectations in today’s scene – and how do you deal with them?
“Interestingly, despite our age and experience, we’re still considered newcomers. We fight for visibility just like younger bands. And yes – age can be a disadvantage. Let’s be honest: who puts a poster of a bunch of fifty-year-olds on their bedroom wall?”
Your music conveys determination rather than uncertainty.
Is that clarity an advantage – or does it sometimes reduce creative friction?
“Clarity helps you get to the core faster. Today, I know much more clearly where I want a song to go. But it’s still crucial to question yourself constantly. Otherwise, experience can quickly turn into repetition.”
If someone discovers CAVE for the first time through ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘, what should they sense between the notes – without any background knowledge?
“I hope they notice that CAVE doesn’t fit neatly into one category. That it’s a band doing exactly what it wants, presenting ten layered compositions full of honesty and personal experience.”
With ‘…Into The Promised Land…‘, CAVE prove that experience doesn’t have to soften intent – it can sharpen it.
The album stands as a statement of confidence, not because it tries to compete with trends, but because it understands its own strengths.
Rather than chasing relevance, CAVE define it on their own terms:
through commitment, clarity, and music that works equally well on record and on stage.
by Fok ‘bs’

“We had no plans to release anything unless we felt it was top notch.”

“We like the sound of guitar, drums, bass, and vocals. Classic rock lineup.”

“We were constantly cutting things away, keeping everything simple and direct.”

“We wanted new songs to play live – not just be a nostalgia trip.”

“The new songs fit in well with the old ones. These are Gluecifer songs.”

“We treat tradition and heritage with respect, but not reverence.”

“We started calling ourselves Kings of Rock just because we thought it was fun.”

“We’ll keep doing this as long as it’s fun.”

More than twenty years after their last studio album, Gluecifer return with ‘Same Drug New High‘ – not as a nostalgia act, but as a band fully aware of who they are and why they still matter.
In this interview with Fok ’bs‘, Biff Malibu singer of this Norwegian rock institution talks about restraint over excess, writing songs meant to live on stage, and why longevity matters less than honesty.
‘Same Drug New High‘ is your first studio album in more than twenty years.
When did you realize this wasn’t just ‘new songs‘, but a full-fledged Gluecifer album that actually meant something?
“We realized that around the moment we decided it was going to be an album. We had no plans to release anything unless we felt it was top notch. How much it will end up meaning remains to be seen, but we’re happy with the record.”
Since the reunion in 2018, you’ve never tried to modernize your sound to seem relevant.
Was that a conscious decision from the very beginning, or simply the only honest approach?
“Well, we probably sound a bit different than we did twenty-five years ago. But it’s true that we haven’t tried to modernize or introduce new instruments. We like the sound of guitar, drums, bass, and vocals. Classic rock lineup.”
A lot of bands talk about ‘chemistry‘, but Gluecifer sounds unusually tight on this album.
What did it mean to work at home in Oslo for the way you wrote and recorded the record?
“I don’t know if the city itself mattered that much, but it was practical. No traveling, easy access to the studio. What really mattered was working with our friend Johnny Skalleberg in his excellent studio, Amper Tone. That’s one of the reasons the album sounds as good as it does. Johnny knows us well, is a very skilled engineer, and knows how we sound best.”
The title ‘Same Drug New High‘ suggests familiarity without stagnation.
What does that phrase mean to you personally, beyond the obvious rock’n’roll interpretation?
“The title is pretty self-explanatory. We like rock, and we like being back at it.”
Songs like ‘The Idiot‘ and ‘Armadas‘ are direct, uncompromising, almost confrontational.
Do you feel freer today to say exactly what you mean than you did in the late ’90s and early 2000s?
“Not really. We’ve always felt free to do and say whatever we wanted – then and now. But we wanted both of those songs to bite a little.”
Looking back, was the breakup in 2005 something that had to happen for Gluecifer to exist the way it does today, or do you ever wonder what might have been if you’d continued?
“I haven’t spent much time thinking like that. What happened in 2005 wasn’t easy, but now we’re doing really well together and enjoying playing again. We’re inspired too.”
You’ve always carried the title ‘Kings of Rock‘ with a mix of irony and conviction.
Has that concept taken on a different meaning at this stage of your career?
“Haha. We started calling ourselves Kings of Rock when we were playing tiny stages in Oslo for fewer than 100 people, just because we thought it was fun. Now we’re more like a kind of House of Rock-lords – but that doesn’t sound as good.”
There’s a clear sense of restraint on the new album – no excess, no filler.
Have age and experience sharpened your instincts for what a Gluecifer song actually needs, and what it doesn’t?
“We were constantly cutting things away, keeping everything simple and direct. Getting to the core. That’s probably something we’re better at now than we were back in the day.”
Songs like ‘1996‘ openly reference your own past without feeling nostalgic.
How do you look back on your history without turning it into a museum?
“We laugh about it a lot. So many wild and funny things happened. Gluecifer has always been an adventure we were lucky to be part of. When it comes to rock, we treat tradition and heritage with respect, but not reverence.”
Over the years, Gluecifer has shared stages with legends and helped shape a Scandinavian rock movement.
Do you see yourselves today as part of a tradition, or have you always felt slightly outside established scenes?
“We feel we have something in common with several other Scandinavian bands from that era – a similar attitude toward playing rock. Energy and joy. But we’re probably a bit more on the outside of other scenes.”
Your live reputation has always been central to the band’s identity.
How does playing new material alongside the classics affect the dynamic on stage?
“That was the starting point for the whole album. We wanted new songs to play live, not just be a nostalgia trip. The new songs fit in well with the old ones. These are Gluecifer songs, and as you pointed out earlier, we haven’t changed our expression all that much.”
In an industry obsessed with constant renewal and visibility, Gluecifer seems comfortable with longevity.
What does long-term endurance mean to you now compared to when you started?
“We actually spend very little time reflecting on things like that. We enjoy being together, like playing great shows, and figure we’ll keep doing it as long as it’s fun. We make all the decisions for this band ourselves.”
If someone hears ‘Same Drug New High‘ without knowing anything about Gluecifer’s history, what do you hope they’re left with when the final track fades out?
“That they want to listen to it one more time – and that they want to see us live.”
With ‘Same Drug New High‘, Gluecifer prove that relevance doesn’t require reinvention – only clarity, energy, and the confidence to leave nothing unnecessary behind.
The album stands as a continuation rather than a comeback, driven by songs meant to be played loud, live, and without compromise.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Nuit Noire is clearly the moment of impact, not the aftermath.”

“Releasing this EP is neither exposure nor closure – it is a tribute.”

“This bad trip narrative is simply about someone living their longest night.”

“The fear was extremely physical, but also mental.”

“If the EP is remembered and revisited, then it has fulfilled its purpose.”

‘Nuit Noire‘ is not an EP that unfolds through individual songs, but through a single, continuous psychological passage.
Conceived as a ritualized descent into fear, dissolution, and transformation, Arbre-dieu’s work avoids spectacle and moral framing, focusing instead on the raw inner mechanics of a lived experience.
What emerges is a black metal release rooted in impact rather than aftermath, where collapse itself becomes the subject.
‘Nuit Noire‘ unfolds as a sequence of inner states rather than individual songs.
At what point did you realize this material needed to exist as a continuous passage instead of separate compositions?
“In my work, I always separate the musical aspect from the thematic aspect. When I composed the EP, the music itself naturally reached a point where it formed a coherent whole. Separately from that, I had this bad trip theme that I had wanted to use for a long time. It happened to be perfectly aligned with the music I had created, so the idea of a continuous passage imposed itself quite logically.”
The EP is inspired by a bad trip, yet it avoids sensationalism or moral framing.
Was detachment a conscious choice during composition, or something that only emerged after the experience had settled?
“I don’t attach any moral or sensational meaning to this kind of trip, especially regarding the entheogens I have used in the past. I have a deep respect for these plants or seeds, even though the experiences they can induce can be extremely harsh. In this bad trip narrative, the focus is simply on someone going through a trip over the course of a night, living their longest night, and experiencing something that will mark the rest of their existence.”
Fear in ‘Nuit Noire‘ feels physical, almost spatial.
When writing, do you think in terms of emotions, images, or bodily reactions first?
“It is indeed an interesting comment and question. In the context of this bad trip, the fear of extinction was extremely physical, but also mental. When I wrote the lyrics, I was thinking about the chaotic whirlwind of thoughts and the state of total disintegration I was in. ‘Graine de la folie’ (Seed of Madness) clearly focuses on what is happening in the mind and on the emotions experienced at that moment, whereas ‘La vieille femme et le soleil pâle’ (The Old Woman and the Pale Sun) operates more through images. As for the main image of the EP, it should be imagined as entering an ancient temple. That is how I visualize it.”
There is a moment where annihilation briefly appears as a solution, not a threat.
How important was it for you to acknowledge that thought honestly rather than censoring it for the listener’s comfort?
“In initiatory-type trips, there is always an intimate relationship with one’s own death. Here, it is a kind of death meant to shed one’s skin and start anew, which is why the piece is titled ‘Mort et renaissance’ (Death and Rebirth). It marks the point where the former self disappears in order to be reborn in a different form. It would have been absurd not to include this moment, since this is something that can genuinely occur in entheogen-related trips in general.”
The voices in the later part of the EP can be read as spirits, hallucinations, or internal guides.
Do you prefer these presences to remain undefined – or do they carry a specific meaning for you personally?
“I’m not entirely sure what is meant by ‘voices’ here. To answer the question nonetheless, the only presences involved are ‘La vieille femme’ (The Old Woman) and ‘le soleil pâle’ (the Pale Sun). I did not express them through voices. These figures emerged during the trip once the peak of intensity had passed. They functioned as figures of comfort within the deepest darkness of the experience, indicating that the trip was moving downward and that I was meant to survive it. Even for me, they remain undefined presences: they were simply ‘there’, and then they were gone.”
Unlike many black metal releases, ‘Nuit Noire‘ moves from collapse toward a strange, restrained joy.
Was this transformation something you recognized during the experience itself, or only in retrospect?
“Yes, I recognized it during the experience itself, but I didn’t give much importance to the positive element within the narrative constructed in the EP. In reality, when it ends, I am simply happy to see daylight again and to see members of my family. But that belongs to the aftermath, and it doesn’t necessarily hold much interest in itself for a black metal release.”
Your sound is deliberately raw, but never chaotic for its own sake.
How do you decide when violence in sound is necessary – and when it becomes excess?
“In fact, I don’t really decide; it’s the music that flows that way. I started the EP with feedback sounds and crackling textures, combined with a simple rhythm, before letting it gradually rise. For this EP, the tracks naturally fell into their final order. I don’t recall having to move any piece before or after another, which is something that often happens to me. If something feels excessive for me, it usually means it has no meaning in itself, and it will most likely never appear on an album.”
The ‘Maison Dieu‘ card symbolizes sudden collapse followed by irreversible change.
Do you see ‘Nuit Noire‘ more as the moment of impact, or as the landscape that exists after the fall?
“It is clearly the moment of impact. This EP does not deal with the aftermath. More precisely, regarding the ‘Tarot de Marseille’, I use the meaning given by Alejandro Jodorowsky for this card. In its negative aspect, it can signify collapse, but it can also be seen as an opening that brings forth what was trapped. The symbolism can also be sexual or express a sudden love at first sight. It is also a card that evokes a ‘temple’, which is one of the reasons I adapted the card’s name into Arbre-Dieu (God Tree), to emphasize the telluric aspect and its rooted, earthy dimension.”
Arbre-dieu strips black metal down to ritual and pulse rather than technique.
Is this a rejection of genre conventions, or simply the most honest form this project could take?
“No, it is not a rejection of genre conventions. In fact, it was meant to be more ‘true black metal’ than my other project, Thy Apokalypse (industrial black metal). For me, it is obvious that the way the project was approached and conceived from the start represents the most natural and sincere path for it. That said, many things will evolve from this point in the next release, which will be an album, probably scheduled for the end of 2027.”
Many listeners describe ‘Nuit Noire‘ as uncomfortable but compelling.
What kind of discomfort interests you as an artist – confusion, fear, recognition, or loss of control?
“I don’t have any particular intention beyond creating an immersive experience. What matters to me is that the listener doesn’t stop listening after a few seconds or in the middle of the piece. Of course, this is something one cannot control, and as a listener myself, I am subject to the same experience.”
Because the EP is so tightly bound to a personal inner journey, did releasing it feel like exposure, closure, or neither?
“Neither. This was an experience that took place in 2008, so it is already far behind. If I were to use a closer term to describe what releasing it as an album represents, it would be a ‘tribute’.”
Arbre-dieu is connected to several other projects you’re involved in.
What emotional or spiritual territory does this project allow you to explore that the others cannot?
“In a way, Arbre-dieu explores more human aspects – psychology, life and death, very earthy matters – and distinguishes itself from Thy Apokalypse in its exploration of technology (the last album, released in September 2025 on Bitume Prods, deals with AIs breaking free to take refuge in the Metacosmos). From a technical standpoint, Arbre-dieu allows me to explore the ‘noise music’ aspect much more than my other projects.”
If ‘Nuit Noire‘ leaves a trace rather than a message, what kind of mark do you hope it leaves on the listener once the ritual is over?
“A trace similar to a CD in their CD collection or the audio tracks in a folder on their computer that they listen to and revisit! For me, if the project and this EP are known and remembered through listening, then one can say that this release has fulfilled its purpose…Thanks for the interview…”
‘Nuit Noire‘ exists as a preserved moment rather than a statement or resolution.
By focusing on collapse, fear, and transformation without explanation or relief, Arbre-dieu offers an immersive experience that resists interpretation and demands endurance.
What remains is not a message, but a trace – one that lingers each time the ritual is entered again.
by Fok ‘bs‘

Evgeny:
“We sing about the same things as everyone else – love, hate, life and death – but through stories written thousands of years ago.”

Timur:
“When we listen and feel that the story is told – then it is told.”

Timur:
“We are tiny particles of sand in the huge desert of time.”

Evgeny:
“Sometimes I don’t believe in a song – then Max does his magic and suddenly it works.”

Timur:
“Strong emotions must be served in the right moment, when the listener is ready.”

Timur:
“Mixing and production was as much a creative process as writing the songs.”

Timur:
“Our songs broadcast the whole frequency range – it’s up to the listener to tune in.”

Timur:
“We don’t write fast or slow on purpose – we write when the emotion is ready.”

Evgeny:
“Ancient myths are darker than most modern stories – and far more honest.”

Evgeny:
“Music is a kind of theatre – once we step off the stage, we’re just ordinary people again.”

Timur:
“Every song is a story, but not every story needs an explanation.”

Timur:
“Nostalgia is dangerous when you try to live inside it.”

Evgeny:
“It’s impossible to just erase your previous life from memory. From time to time the yearning for home bursts out and hits pretty hard.”

Ka’aper are a band shaped by distance – geographical, cultural, and emotional.
Formed by Russian and Ukrainian musicians now based in Cyprus, their music feels less tied to scenes or trends and more to memory, ritual, and time itself.
Drawing from ancient myths, desert imagery, and slow-unfolding compositions, Ka’aper build songs that feel like places rather than statements.
In this in-depth conversation, Fok ’bs‘ speaks with Evgeny and Timur about exile and freedom, impermanence and monumentality, patience as expression, and why their music deliberately resists immediacy in favor of immersion.
Ka’aper exist between places, languages, and cultural memories.
How does living and creating music away from your original homes shape the emotional temperature of your sound?
Evgeny:
“Hey guys! Timur and Evgeny are here! Thanks for having us. Well, we’re getting started with really deep and emotional questions, I like it. To be honest, I love Cyprus from the bottom of my heart and I can say that I’m happy here, having a good interesting life, but anyway, it’s impossible to just erase your previous life from your memory, and from time to time the yearning for the home where you grew up bursts out and sometimes hits pretty hard. For example, one of the songs from ‘While Flows The Nile’ which is called ‘Never Come Home’ tells the story of a soldier who is far away from home and he knows he will never come back. It actually comes from my own emotions.”
Your music often feels rooted in ancient symbols rather than modern narratives.
Is this a conscious way of stepping outside contemporary identities and into something more timeless?
Evgeny:
“This is a way to make the music darker. Some ancient myths are desperately macabre and it’s a huge unexplored area and space for imagination. While the majority of bands sing about stuff like love and hate, life and death, fidelity and betrayal, we actually sing about the same, but cover them with stories written thousands of years ago. Thousands. Of years. Ago. This thought gives me goosebumps and a pretty weird feeling of serenity. When you realise that life is just a small grain of sand and there were billions of lives like yours, all of them came to an end, and there is nothing left – you try to live your life right now, in this exact moment. This is a very important skill. During one of my trips, I met a really wise man in Oman and he said, ‘There is no tomorrow, every tomorrow is just another today’. So fucking precise!”
Being a Russian-Ukrainian band based in Cyprus places you in a unique in-between space.
Do you experience this distance as loss, freedom, or a necessary silence?
Evgeny:
“It depends on the exact moment. Sometimes it feels like a loss, but to be honest, mostly it feels amazing. As I said, this island is an excellent place. I’ve been living here for almost 7 years and now I’m sure if I were forced to go back, I would struggle to find my place in my hometown, so I don’t want to return.”
Timur:
“Definitely a loss of reaching many people we used to have next to us, loss of the achievements and statuses we earned in our adult life. Definitely a freedom to reconsider many points because we are still cultural strangers in Cyprus – public opinion does not involve the tourists, so we can shape our combined ‘before’ and ‘after’ perception, and society wouldn’t bother much. As for necessary silence, nope, I don’t think any of us took it as a decision to go an easy way.”
The imagery of stone, desert, and erosion suggests permanence slowly being undone.
Does this reflect a personal relationship with impermanence, or is it purely symbolic?
Timur:
“It’s like a reflection of permanence, yes, and understanding of our life and death cycle being small particles of sand in the huge desert of time. So continuing the metaphor of the sand in a desert, our songs reflect both – how the eternal monuments shape the desert through the time, and how fast and negligible is our path in this desert.”
Ka’aper’s songs feel less like statements and more like rituals.
What needs to happen internally before a piece feels ‘ready‘ to be released into the world?
Timur:
“Good question. Sometimes we spend a week or more putting all the pieces in place. Other times I just start playing, catch the idea and make a draft in like an hour, then I send it to Evgeny, he takes an hour or two to listen and feel the melody, and that’s it. There is no rule or guideline on what we consider as a ready song, but whenever we listen and feel that the story is told, then it is told. Every song is like a story that you want to tell to your audience. Sometimes it is a bold and simple emotion in one short event, sometimes it is a whole spectrum of feelings that you live through along with the characters being depicted in your story.”
Cyprus is an island shaped by crossings, empires, and fractures.
Has the landscape or atmosphere of your current home influenced the way you approach sound and space?
Evgeny:
“For sure! All this concept is based on my own trips and stuff I saw with my own eyes. Egypt is here, only a one-hour flight away, so from time to time I go there to find some inspiration. In addition, Cyprus itself has a fantastic and outstanding history. So my answer is yes, the atmosphere here helps a lot!”
Your compositions unfold slowly, resisting immediacy.
Is patience an artistic principle for Ka’aper, or a form of quiet resistance?
Timur:
“This is our way to express. Emotions, especially strong ones, must be served to the listener in the right moment, with the right mood, when the listener is ready to experience them. That’s why we always have the overture – small introduction giving you a sense of the space where the story happens, then there is a statement, the struggle, the culmination, if the story needs one, and the epilogue if the story has anything to add. In fact if you go to our shows, you will notice that first there is a dark empty stage and a melody starting. The melody flows into the first song, and then a song flows into another. Music is our way to express the mood, space, fear, majesty, fury, sadness – all the tools you would use to put more meaning into your words.”
Evgeny:
“There is an easter egg for our most attentive listeners. Even albums are going to flow into each other. ‘When Gods Walked the Earth’ starts with the last notes of ‘While Flows the Nile’. We did it on purpose, to show it’s kind of two chapters of one story.”
There’s a tension in your music between human fragility and monumental power.
Where do you personally feel closer – inside the monument, or beneath its shadow?
Evgeny:
“This is a great question! And, to be honest, I have no idea how to answer it. I’ve never thought about it from this angle, and moreover, I don’t think our music conceals anything inside, it’s just music we love to listen to and we want to share it with people. Nothing more. A pretty mechanical process. We just write a song – if we like it, we play it, if we don’t, we throw it away. It’s that simple. For example, we wrote about 15 or even more songs for our upcoming album ‘When Gods Walked The Earth’ and selected only 10 to record.”
Timur:
“For me it’s an easy question, but Evgeny doesn’t like it when I think this way he-he. We are tiny little crusts of sand on the left sandal of the colossus – the current epoch, and each of us will fall off any random moment while it is stepping through the endless desert of time.”
Evgeny:
“Wait! What? I don’t like it? No, I totally agree. Maybe not in such exaggerated terms, but I completely agree with this point of view.”
As musicians carrying more than one cultural memory, how do you prevent nostalgia from becoming a trap rather than a source?
Timur:
“We all lean to comfort and stability, sort of ‘feel like home’ thing. But of course life has a surprise for our expectations he-he. As Heraclitus said, ‘you cannot enter the same river twice’, which literally means that a memory or nostalgia depicted in your head is a fragment in life time span, it felt that way when you were that person in that place at that time, but everything changed since then, including you. So fooling ourselves with the idea that we can lean to our past to feel comfort is as crazy as squeezing yourself into slim jeans from your teens when you are past your 50th anniversary and 40 extra kilos – your reality will not fit into your memory of a cool look.”
Working with Max Baryshnikov gave your sound both clarity and restraint.
What did you deliberately choose not to amplify or exaggerate during production?
Timur:
“We had no idea how it would sound, we only knew what we wanted to achieve in some aspects. The rest was done by Max, he’s done a tremendous job helping us to find the right sound, adding layers and lowering down what doesn’t bring much value. So mixing and production was as much of a creative process as writing the songs. This is why we call Max our fifth member.”
Evgeny:
“Sometimes, I don’t really believe in a song, but then Max does some of his avadakedavra stuff, I listen to it and ‘Oh, really? Not fucking bad at all…’”
Ka’aper feels intentionally opaque, leaving space for interpretation.
Is ambiguity a shield, an invitation, or simply the most honest form of expression for you?
Timur:
“In real life, we would rarely have a firm sense of good and bad, right and wrong, happy and sad. Every situation causes emotions, every emotion has semitones. Now imagine that our characters are like radio receivers – each of us human beings is tuned to receive the specific frequencies from the entire range. So yes, the ‘radio station’ of our songs broadcasts the range, it’s up to each listener to tune for a specific frequency.”
Formed in 2024, Ka’aper emerged fully formed in atmosphere and intent.
Was this project born suddenly, or did it exist silently long before it had a name?
Evgeny:
“I met Timur in December 2023, we had a small talk about music, then we played a couple of covers at a local jam in January, then in April I was sitting at work and listening to Dark Tranquillity, I think it was ‘Haven’. I immediately recalled the conversation with Timur and texted him like, ‘Hey man, would you like to play some music?’. The next day we were sitting at my place with guitars, writing riffs for our first song (it was ‘The Sun’). In a week we had three demos ready to play. So it was sudden and rapid! And. actually, we try not to slow down.”
If Ka’aper were remembered not as a band, but as a place or state of being, what would you hope listeners carry with them after the sound fades?
Timur:
“As the outro melody in our live shows ‘says’, it has to be far in the mountains, being alone with your own thoughts. And suddenly you start getting a feel of uncontrolled fear – you realize that the only way out of this place is a hard path of survival. But in reality, while the outro plays, we smile, shake hands, say ‘thank you’ and take photos, so the dramatic effect is gone he-he.”
Evgeny:
“This is because music is a kind of theatre. Once we step off the stage, we’re again just average men in their thirties, so I don’t mind spending time after the show with the listeners. Timur doesn’t mind as well, to be honest, he-he…”
Ka’aper don’t offer answers, slogans, or comfort.
Their music exists as a landscape:
ancient, slow-moving, and indifferent to urgency.
It asks the listener not to understand, but to enter – to walk through sound shaped by memory, erosion, and time.
As Evgeny and Timur make clear, Ka’aper is not about belonging to a place or a past, but about confronting impermanence honestly – and finding meaning in the act of listening itself.
by Fok ‘bs’

Lanvall:
“I never compose according to a fixed formula.”

Sabine Edelsbacher:
“Experiencing contrasts makes us feel alive and allows us to enjoy music in its full range.”

Lanvall:
“Being in the moment is essential – because it is always now.”

Sabine Edelsbacher:
“If we get goosebumps ourselves, we trust that this energy will transfer.”

Lanvall:
“The more freely you allow inspiration to flow, the better the end result will be.”

Sabine Edelsbacher:
“Only what comes to light can be recognized and consequently transformed.”

Lanvall:
“The music has to excite me even after a year of working on it – otherwise it’s not good enough.”

Sabine Edelsbacher:
“With our music and lyrics, we have stood for transformation rather than escalation for over 25 years.”

Lanvall:
“Music can only touch you when it has depth.”

Sabine Edelsbacher:
“We want to connect people rather than divide them.”

With ‘Set The Dark On Fire‘, Edenbridge once again prove that longevity does not require stagnation.
Instead of reacting loudly to the noise of the modern world, the Austrian symphonic metal institution continues to refine its inner compass – musically, lyrically, and philosophically.
Fire, transformation, contrast, and awareness shape an album that feels both urgent and timeless.
In this in-depth conversation, Sabine Edelsbacher and Lanvall speak with Fok ‘bs’ about creative freedom, vocal transformation, instrumental choices beyond genre borders, and the power of music to connect rather than divide.
‘Set The Dark On Fire‘ feels less like a classic new chapter and more like a conscious intensification of your previous attitude.
Was there a moment when you realized:
now we need to be more direct, faster, maybe even more uncompromising?
Lanvall:
“This is a completely natural development, and interestingly enough, opinions differ on this point as well. Some media felt the new album was more progressive and harder to access, while others perceived it as more direct and simpler. I never compose according to a fixed formula. The more freely you allow inspiration to flow, the better the end result will be.”
Fire runs through the new album as a central image – not as destruction, but as transformation.
Did this motif emerge more from a musical process, or from an inner, personal one?
Sabine:
“For us, the creation of a new album is always to be seen as a synergy. Everything musical as well as the lyrics do not arise from an intellectual plan, but are the result of inspiration and an intense engagement with life’s themes. Of course, this always goes hand in hand with a personal process. You observe the world and global events, spend time in nature and in silence, then again in conversations with people, and thus gather your own experiences. At the moment, the element of fire runs like a red thread through the album. As a band, we perceive the collective shadow becoming more visible, and we welcome this with our new album ‘Set The Dark On Fire’. Only what comes to light can be recognized by everyone and consequently transformed. But it is also important to use the power of fire wisely, so as not to cause a wildfire. With our music and lyrics, we have stood for transformation rather than escalation for over 25 years. Lyrically, we have always processed how we can influence things constructively and creatively, how we can free ourselves from dependencies, find our own path, and thus positively influence the collective as well. I am convinced that we have far more influence on the collective field through our thoughts and emotions than we are consciously aware of. However, this influence primarily becomes visible within ourselves and in our own actions and effects.”
Edenbridge have never been a band that reacts loudly to current crises, but rather looks inward.
Is it harder today to maintain this attitude without being perceived as out of touch?
Sabine:
“The real question is how many listeners engage with the lyrics on a deeper level and then also interpret the metaphors in the way we intended them. Anyone who perceives us as out of touch has probably formed an opinion based solely on paradisiacal imagery. We enjoy sophisticated and profound lyrics, because anything else would not do the music justice. Therefore, it is far from our intention to lecture our listeners with banal statements. Humanity has always suffered from misguided ideologies and dogmas – we don’t want to add to that. With our layered lyrics, we prefer to stand for awareness, and that does not happen through the intellect alone, which is often part of the problem in this process. On ‘The Bonding’, for example, we described exactly this theme. Music itself can achieve so much more than even the most intelligent words combined. It is on this musical level that we want to operate – to connect people rather than divide them.”
You work with an impressive range of instruments, many of them outside classical metal conventions.
When does an instrument determine the direction of a song, and when do you consciously subordinate it?
Lanvall:
“The question is always what added value an instrument brings to a particular part. Only when used purposefully does it really make sense. Can I expand the stylistic touch with that instrument, or not? Natural string instruments always have the advantage of being clearly superior to sample libraries due to their rich overtones. ‘Divine Dawn Reveal’ practically cried out for incorporating a whole palette of oriental instruments. On ‘Where the Wild Things Are’, with its Celtic/Irish flair, it made particular sense to integrate instruments such as hammered dulcimer, bouzouki, and mandolin.”
Your voice on the new material noticeably moves between calm, clarity, and assertiveness.
Has your personal approach to singing changed more technically or emotionally in recent years?
Sabine:
“I’m glad you perceive it that way – thank you for that. In advance, however, it felt completely the opposite to me. A rather severe diaphragmatic spasm had practically put me out of action. No breathing exercise and no manual therapy initially helped. I owe it to my doctor that I was even able to walk upright again and breathe properly. Singing wasn’t even an option at that point. Then the diagnosis came like a bolt from the blue: SIBO – small intestinal bacterial overgrowth with fructose intolerance. And that shortly before Christmas 2024. Eating sugar-free, no fruit, no carbohydrates – for me as a vegetarian, a real question mark as to what was even left. But I had no choice and had to remain strict. The thought of whether I would even manage it in the studio stressed me enormously. My entire body was noticeably in transition, everything felt off, and access to my actual potential felt blocked. In retrospect, however, this whole disaster also enabled a fundamental shift in patterns – in how I generally approach things. In the midst of preparations, I suddenly experienced a new effortlessness while singing. Ultimately, the result of my ongoing joy in experimentation was more expression with less impact. In the studio, however, this wasn’t immediately accessible. Every studio day initially felt like a therapy session for me. Paradoxically, despite hours of exertion, I felt physically better the following day each time. Through singing, I had literally ‘ironed out’ my diaphragm. Once I became more stable with this new effortlessness and entered a flow similar to earlier times, I had reached a new vocal level. And that gave me great joy. Exactly at the point in the body where the diaphragm is located lies the solar plexus – our inner sun, which is mentioned in ‘Cosmic Embrace’. This sensitive network of nerves makes us react strongly to emotions and tends to block when everything becomes too much or when something quite literally ‘hits us in the stomach’. I know this topic well and view it from many angles. In hindsight, I was once again impressed by how this album met me exactly at that point, gave me a clear sign, and demanded change. My approach to singing has always been the same: I love to keep evolving. You never stop learning – technically as well as emotionally, in processing and expressing things – and often one flows into the other.”
Your music thrives on contrasts:
hardness and vastness, grounding and transcendence.
Is there a point at which this balance would tip, or is this tension precisely where you feel at home?
Sabine:
“For us, the boundary is very clearly where we ourselves no longer like it. Stylistically, our approach has always been very broad. Our own listening habits are diverse, and since we have never subjected ourselves to fashionable trends, this openness is consistently reflected in our music. On the one hand, this meant that we were hard to grasp for some and could hardly be pigeonholed. On the other hand, it opened up a creative freedom that ensures we still enjoy what we do even after more than 25 years. Our fans are accustomed to this diversity and appreciate the variety. Feedback repeatedly shows us that favorite songs vary greatly, that each person has different favorites spread across the entire discography. The contrasts you describe are an essential part of our musical identity; we need exactly this field of tension. If you want to give hardness a counterpart, for me that would be gentleness – sometimes in the form of quiet passages, sometimes through harmonious melodic guidance. Experiencing contrasts makes us feel alive and allows us to enjoy music in its full range.”
Many bands respond to a fast-paced music world by simplifying things.
Edenbridge, on the other hand, seem to focus on depth and structure.
Is that a conscious counter-design, or simply the only way of working that makes sense to you?
Lanvall:
“The only way of working that makes sense to me is not listening to – or eyeing – what is currently popular or trendy. Music can only touch you when it has depth. To make all the details in the mix shine, structure in the arrangement process is an essential necessity. Since I work on the songs and their arrangements for over a year, they still have to excite me afterwards – otherwise they simply aren’t good enough.”
With over two decades of band history, Edenbridge stands for continuity without stagnation.
In retrospect, what was more difficult:
evolving musically or staying true to yourselves in the process?
Sabine:
“Is there even an either-or? For us, one usually conditioned the other. Of course, there were difficult phases. We never had that one big breakthrough that would have allowed everyone in the band to focus exclusively on music from the very beginning. Lanvall was the only one who consistently pursued that path, and even he always had several projects running in parallel. We also consciously chose not to tour all year round, as many successful bands have done. The bar we set for ourselves musically is high, and living up to that is not something you can just do on the side – it is quite demanding. Personally, it was also always important to me to truly penetrate spiritual themes in life in order to remain authentic. Before becoming self-employed as a voice and personality trainer and vocal coach, I worked alongside Edenbridge as a certified nurse. I deliberately chose areas in which I was particularly confronted with death or the ‘in-between’. That often pushed me to my own limits, but the effortlessness I mentioned earlier is something I’ve only discovered more recently 😊”
Your collaboration appears exceptionally stable and organic.
Has your creative division of roles changed over the years, or has it simply grown without being newly defined?
Sabine:
“Since the 9th album ‘The Great Momentum’, Lanvall and I have been writing the lyrics partly together, which naturally brought additional aspects into play. We have developed a fruitful approach to this that we truly enjoy. Lanvall, Johannes, and I form the creative team for the graphic design. As a professional 3D artist, Johannes has the technical know-how to skillfully translate ideas into visuals, and above all, he has the necessary sensitivity for spiritual and mystical themes. Last year, he was extremely busy with the cover, booklet, and videos. I usually develop the ideas for the videos already during the phase when we write the lyrics. Their realization then involves everyone again. Overall, everything has become significantly more elaborate – perhaps precisely because with each album we do more and more ourselves. It feels as if the current album has occupied us from the very beginning, put us under fire, and kept us simmering throughout the entire year 😊”
The lyrics of the new album feel more personal, but not private – more observational than confessional.
Where do you consciously draw the line between openness and protecting your inner self?
Sabine:
“Your perception of the lyrics is interesting. It’s true that one often turns one’s innermost self outward, but it’s not a diary that we present in lyrical form. Sometimes I write down thoughts in sentences beforehand, which we then process together so that they convey the original message in rhymed form as well. Other times I have a clear idea and then have to completely abandon it because rhythm and rhyme lead to something entirely different. In every case, that outcome is better than what was originally conceived, because it is what the song or the creative moment demands. It does require persistence until it feels coherent, but without getting stuck or forcing things. The poetic form of metaphors gives us the artistic freedom to express deeper layers, while at the same time creating the space people need to find their own interpretations that resonate with them.”
Edenbridge are often described with terms such as symphonic, epic, or atmospheric.
Which terms would you personally prefer to hear, even if they are less genre-typical?
Lanvall:
“These terms describe our style very well. Fortunately, more and more media within our genre are now also acknowledging a certain uniqueness due to harmony structures, modulations, and melodic development. When that is recognized, it means a lot to me.”
After so many releases, retrospectives, and best-ofs:
Do you still write with the overall body of work in mind, or does only the moment of the individual song matter?
Lanvall:
“The moment of the individual song creates the overall body of work, so it is definitely both. ‘Being in the moment’ is an essential part of life anyway, because it is always ‘now’.”
If someone hears ‘Set The Dark On Fire‘ as their first contact with Edenbridge:
What should that person feel about you, even before understanding what the songs are about?
Sabine:
“That is truly a very special question – my compliments. And it’s not that easy to answer, because I’ve never consciously thought about it before. For us, it’s crucial that the music touches us first before it can reach anyone else. If we get goosebumps ourselves while playing, singing, or listening, we assume that this energy will transfer in one way or another. How exactly it affects others is, of course, beyond our control. All the more beautiful it would be if people find access to themselves again through it, feel inspired and empowered to walk their own path – even in challenging times – perhaps off the beaten track. I think that’s exactly what we stand for. And if someone feels emotionally met by our music, ideally they can use it as a kind of portal.”
Sabine & Lanvall:
“Thank you very much for these truly exceptional questions! We wish you a good and joyful New Year 2026”
More than 25 years into their journey, Edenbridge continue to follow their own path – guided not by trends, but by depth, contrast, and awareness.
‘Set The Dark On Fire‘ is less a statement of reinvention than a focused expression of everything the band stands for:
transformation over escalation, emotion over spectacle, and music as a space where opposites can coexist.
An album – and a conversation – that invites listeners not only to hear, but to reflect.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Playing flashy might get you in the door. Good songs make you stay.”

“The real artistic danger isn’t failure – it’s irrelevance.”

“We want to prove that hard rock can still evolve and still feel necessary.”

“The industry wants algorithms, society wants noise – honesty is the real challenge.”

“Commentary works best when it’s felt before it’s understood.”

“When a song starts preaching instead of moving, we pull it back.”

“You don’t have to agree on everything – it helps if you’re at least looking the same way.”

“Raw aggression is blunt. Precision delivers real intensity.”

“Sometimes the most powerful move is knowing when to be quiet and listen.”

“We’re not trying to sound young – we’re trying to sound awake.”

Experience can be a double-edged sword in hard rock.
It can harden into repetition – or sharpen into something dangerous again.
Voices Of Extreme choose the latter.
Built from musicians with decades of history behind them, the band isn’t interested in nostalgia, comfort zones, or heritage-band safety nets.
Their focus is firmly on relevance, honesty, and writing songs that still matter.
In this interview, Voices Of Extreme talk about friction in a world ruled by algorithms, satire as a weapon, why precision can hit harder than brute force, and how ‘Faith In Action‘ became a statement rooted in belief and movement rather than slogans.
Voices Of Extreme are built from musicians with decades of experience.
At this stage in your careers, what still feels dangerous or exciting about making new hard rock music?
“Between everyone in the band, we’ve got quite a bit of experience and if there’s any artistic danger it’s not failure – it’s irrelevance…doing something that fails to reach people. What’s exciting to us is proving that hard rock can still evolve, still challenge us as musician’s, and still feel necessary, not just familiar.”
Hard rock has always thrived on attitude and friction.
In 2025, where do you feel that friction most strongly – in society, in the industry, or within yourselves as artists?
“It’s such a crazy point of time now for the world isn’t it? The industry wants algorithms and Society just wants noise but the real trick is deciding how honest we are with what we’re saying in the music. Humor helps….Volume does too.. and our maturity is purely optional lol.”
Your music blends groove, weight, and commentary without turning into slogans.
How do you decide when a message strengthens a song – and when it risks overpowering it?
“Commentary works best when it’s not too deliberate and it’s felt before it’s totally understood. But we’ll pull it back when the song starts preaching instead of moving. Besides, our music gets interesting when the fun we’re having and coolness come across through the music.”
With such distinct musical backgrounds in the band, how do you prevent Voices Of Extreme from becoming a showcase of résumés instead of a unified voice?
“Anytime you get individuals in a room trying to have a singular vision or sound and get everybody on the same page it’s really a gamble. You don’t always have to agree on the exact direction but it helps if you’re at least looking the same way.”
There’s a sense of confidence in your recent work that feels earned rather than forced.
How has time changed the way you approach intensity and aggression in your songwriting?
“That’s a great observation, and I appreciate you noticing that shift in confidence. At this stage of the game, we realized yes…raw aggression either musically or lyrically, can be blunt but it’s more impactful when it serves a specific purpose. and speaking for myself through my career, I’ve learned to deliver intensity via precision. For example, knowing what to say and when to say it, and sometimes just to be quiet and listen.”
Satire has long been a powerful tool in rock music.
What does satire allow you to say that straight anger or protest sometimes cannot?
“Well with the limit of today’s attention spans you’ve got to express what you’d like to say as quickly as possible because you have about three seconds to do it. That’s why when you use Satire it’s a more stealthy way to get your point across, it slips past defenses. If you shout, people start to tune out. Satire makes the medicine go down easier.”
You’ve each played with legendary artists and in very different contexts.
What did you have to unlearn in order to make Voices Of Extreme work as its own entity?
“We definitely had ideas on which direction we wanted to go in which was different than other versions of VOX. And for songs, structure matters – but instinct gets the final vote. And when you’re writing with somebody new, you have to unlearn control and replace it with trusting the other guy who’s in the musical foxhole with you!”
Hard rock often walks a fine line between nostalgia and relevance.
How consciously do you push against becoming a ‘heritage‘ band?
“We firmly believe that age and experience will always overcome youth and skill, lol and we’re not trying to sound young – we’re trying to sound awake…Big difference. I think heritage bands tend to look backward, we’re too busy writing the next song.”
BraveWords Records is known for understanding heavy music culture.
How important is it today to work with a label that speaks the same musical language?
“It’s super important more so nowadays than ever. A band has to be more finished and have discovered their sound already for labels to even take them seriously. We’ve all heard stories of record labels in the past ‘growing’ the artists and guiding them through their musical development. Nowadays labels don’t have the time for it. That’s why BraveWords is different. They understand Rock and heavy music as a culture, and not a product. And that means VOX can focus on the music.”
Your sound feels rooted in classic hard rock, yet very aware of the present moment.
Do you see Voices Of Extreme as preserving a tradition – or actively reshaping it?
“We all have our musical influences, and we all tap into them from time to time depending on the situation and tradition only gives you a foundation, what you build on it…and what we’re trying to build…is the point. We’re not really thinking about reshaping the past, we’re thinking about how the music feels now, and that’s what people respond to.”
With ‘Faith In Action’ on the horizon, does the album represent a statement, a reflection, or a challenge – to listeners and to yourselves?
“‘Faith In Action’ is about belief that moves you – believing in yourself, trusting something bigger than you, and then doing the work. We didn’t have all of the answers on what we would sound like when we started. We just took it a step at a time. and when people listen to our music. if we can suggest or remind them to believe in themselves, we’re doing a good job.”
When people discover Voices Of Extreme for the first time, what do you hope they notice beyond the musicianship?
“That it feels honest. The musicianship serves something bigger than itself, and that’s the song. Playing all flashy with tons of technique might get you in the door, but good songs let you stay in there.”
If Voices Of Extreme were remembered for only one thing years from now, what would you want that legacy to be – sound, message, attitude, or honesty?
“If the song was good, the sound and message will age just fine. It’s like how great Bass playing goes…If the groove holds up, so does the legacy.”
Voices Of Extreme stand at a point where nothing needs to be proven – yet everything is still at stake.
Their music doesn’t look backward for validation or forward for trends.
Instead, it exists in the present moment:
sharp, self-aware, and driven by belief that action matters more than slogans.
‘Faith In Action‘ isn’t about certainty – it’s about movement, trust, and doing the work.
And in a genre often trapped between nostalgia and noise, Voices Of Extreme remind us that relevance is earned one honest song at a time.
by Fok ‘bs’

“If hatred means anything to us, it’s an ignition or a musical outlet – not a symptom of a deeper conflict.”

“Even though our songs deal with anger and rage, we aren’t angry people – we approach things mostly with humor.”

“A riff needs a hook – something that sticks, something that reflects the emotional core of the song.”

“We make this music because we love it – not to please labels, media, or the scene.”

“We don’t really think about the Finnish metal scene as pressure. If anything, it gives us more creative freedom.”

“We bring our ideas to the table, test what works together, and save what doesn’t. Nothing is really wasted.”

“Raw rage turns into pure noise when it’s no longer controlled. It’s like a dam breaking and everything flooding into a channel that’s too narrow.”

“You can write about destruction and the horrors of war without turning it into slogans or blaming anyone.”

“Above all, we want to leave behind a feeling of togetherness.”

“What better way to deal with heavy emotions than shouting and playing music that fits them as loud as possible?”

With ‘Taste Of Hatred‘, Finnish thrash metal band Krushor present their first cohesive statement to the outside world:
fast, direct, and driven by controlled aggression rather than blind rage.
The EP balances raw energy with discipline, drawing from classic thrash roots while avoiding nostalgia.
To talk about hatred, control, songwriting, and what drives Krushor forward in 2025, Radio Highway Pirates’ Fok ’bs’ sat down with the band for an in-depth interview.
‘Taste Of Hatred‘ sounds less like a single theme and more like an emotional state.
Is hatred for you more of an ignition, a release valve – or a symptom of a deeper conflict?
“Hatred is not a symptom of a deeper conflict for us. If hatred means anything to us, it is an ignition or a musical outlet.”
Thrash metal thrives on speed and directness.
At what point does raw rage turn into pure noise – and how do you avoid that?
“Raw rage turns into pure noise when it is no longer controlled, when it all explodes toward a single target with full force – like a dam breaking and everything flooding into a channel that’s too narrow. We’ve avoided this by only giving a taste of hatred (pun intended). Even though our songs deal with hatred and rage, we ourselves aren’t angry people – we approach things mostly with humor. Maybe there’s a connection there: we release anger and rage in suitable amounts through our songs, which might be why we aren’t angry ourselves.”
Finland is globally known for the diversity of its extreme metal scene.
Do you experience this cultural background as pressure, inspiration, or total freedom?
“We haven’t really thought about it in any particular way. If anything, it probably gives us more creative freedom and inspiration rather than limiting or forcing us into a certain mold.”
‘Shockwave‘ deals with the theme of war without a clear political stance.
How difficult is it to take a position without turning it into slogans or simplified blame?
“It’s relatively easy to write about the horrors of war without taking a political stance. You can write about battles and destruction on a general level without worrying about the message turning into a slogan or blaming anyone.”
You describe your songwriting process as fully democratic.
Has this approach ever created friction – and what have you learned from it?
“So far, we’ve been on the same page about what kind of songs we want to write together. Of course, there are situations where everyone’s views don’t completely align, but these are rare, and we’re open to each other’s suggestions. We believe this openness is why we haven’t had friction during songwriting. We bring our ideas to the table, test what works together and what doesn’t. If a riff doesn’t work with another, we consider whether it can be modified to fit earlier riffs or themes – or saved for another song. We also archive riffs and sections so we have as many ideas as possible stored for future material.”
Many of your influences come from traditional metal styles, yet your sound doesn’t feel backward-looking.
What does a riff need to offer today to feel meaningful to you?
“A riff should always have some kind of hook – something memorable or something that reflects the emotional state of the song. It’s a bit difficult to give a direct answer, but at its simplest, we’re looking for something that sounds and feels good to us.”
Your music feels like a direct physical impulse – few detours, few embellishments.
How important is control in the studio compared to the uncontrolled energy of the rehearsal room?
“In the studio, we value control. The recordings were planned and scheduled quite carefully. However, we allowed flexibility around personal schedules, and if something needed to be re-recorded, we took the time – because we wanted the best possible result. Unnecessary work was avoided through planning, keeping schedules tight but flexible when needed. We learn our parts as well as possible at home, then go through song structures in the rehearsal room, practice as a band, and refine the challenging parts.”
Thrash metal has always been music of resistance.
Where is Krushor’s anger directed most in 2025/2026 – external conditions or internal tensions?
“Krushor isn’t about making music solely out of anger, even though anger is easy to write about. You could say we prefer directing our themes toward external conditions, though some songs may draw perspective from personal experiences. We might write a song about total global destruction – or about being abandoned and forgotten.”
You speak openly about metal being a form of therapy for you.
Does this idea change the way you write songs or perform live?
“Making music itself can already be therapeutic – it allows you to deal with difficult things in life, sometimes even through humor. For us, addressing these themes is therapeutic in some form. Even though our lyrics and themes deal with fictional events, there’s always something of ourselves in them. What better way to release heavy and difficult emotions than by shouting and playing music that fits them as loud as possible?”
The EP is your first unified statement to the outside world.
After listening to ‘Taste Of Hatred‘, what should remain – exhaustion, catharsis, or the urge to confront things?
“After listening to the EP, we hope for a bit of all of that: exhaustion from headbanging and shouting along – or from fighting against these things. Catharsis means purification or emotional release leading to renewed joy or balance in life, and helping listeners rediscover joy and balance through our music would be an absolute honor for us. And definitely the desire to confront things – this is a strong theme in our song ‘Rise Above’. We hope listeners find the courage to face difficult issues and discover joy in life even in their darkest moments.”
Many young bands face pressure early on from labels, media, and the scene.
How do you protect your shared vision from bending too early?
“We’re not the youngest anymore, and through life experience we’ve learned to stand by our vision. This is our thing, and we don’t let outside forces influence what we do. We make this kind of music because we love it – not to please labels, media, or the scene. If we can’t do this for ourselves, why would we force it for others?”
Finnish metal is often associated with darkness and seriousness.
Is there room for irony, self-reflection, or even humor within that heaviness?
“There is always room for irony, self-reflection, and especially humor. These can even be central themes in songs. In addition to that, self-irony is something we cultivate heavily within the band’s internal humor.”
If someone discovers Krushor ten years from now and hears the ‘Taste Of Hatred‘ EP – what should it say about your early days:
hatred, unity, or the need to be heard?
“Hopefully someone will still discover Krushor ten years from now, and when they hear this EP, they’ll feel a sense of unity, see humor beyond the hatred, and understand our desire to be heard. Above all, what we want to leave behind from our early phase is a feeling of togetherness.”
With ‘Taste Of Hatred‘, Krushor deliver a debut that thrives on tension between rage and restraint, tradition and instinct.
There is no posturing here – only honesty, control, and a clear sense of purpose.
Rather than offering easy answers, the EP invites release, confrontation, and connection – exactly what thrash metal was always meant to do.
by Fok ‘bs‘

track-list:
Kickstarter
Caught In The Action
Open Fire
Keep Rolling
Hit The Road
Avenger
Chained By Metal
Spitfire
Full Throttle
Strike At Night
Night Falls Down

“Bullet with Freddie is a different Bullet than Bullet with Alex Lyrbo or Erik Almström.”

“Resistance is always part of trying to scrape by as a touring band – so that doesn’t feel very different now compared to 25 years ago.”

“It’s the hunger that keeps us going…after 25 years, a band is more woven into existence than a ‘phase in life’.”

“Being out there and meeting the people you feel connected to is probably the biggest driving force for me right now.”

“Nothing with Bullet is done casually or ‘ironically’ – we always follow our instincts.”

“’Kickstarter’ isn’t about reinventing the wheel; it’s the result of a band that knows exactly why it’s still here.”

“Loyalty isn’t something you compete over; it’s built over time through honesty in what you do.”

Nearly 25 years into their career, Swedish heavy metal stalwarts Bullet are not slowing down – they are revving the engine once more.
With ‘Kickstarter‘, their first studio album since ‘Dust To Gold‘ (2018), the band return with renewed momentum, sharpened steel, and the same unshakable dedication to classic heavy metal that has defined them since their formation in Växjö in 2001.
Released on January 9, 2026 via Steamhammer, ‘Kickstarter‘ is more than just a new album title – it is a statement of intent.
Bullet have weathered lineup changes, long gaps between releases, industry shifts, broken tour buses, and shifting scenes, yet their core remains untouched:
fast, honest, uncompromising heavy metal rooted in the late ’70s and early ’80s, delivered without irony.
The new album also marks an important turning point with the addition of Freddie Johansson on guitar, completing the current lineup alongside Dag ‘Hell‘ Hofer (vocals), Hampus Klang (guitar), Gustav Hector (bass) and Gustav Hjortsjö (drums).
As the band have already shown with the singles ‘Kickstarter’, ‘Keep Rolling’ and ‘Chained By Metal’, this is Bullet operating with renewed cohesion, clarity, and hunger.
To talk about ‘Kickstarter‘, longevity, loyalty, instinct, and what still drives Bullet forward after nearly a quarter century, Radio Highway Pirates (Fok ‘bs‘) spoke with drummer Gustav Hjortsjö.
When we last spoke with you in spring 2023, there was a strong sense of continuity and survival in Bullet’s story.
As you now approach the release of a new album, what genuinely feels different this time – beyond just new songs?
“The biggest difference is obviously that we now have a new line-up with Freddie Johansson on guitar. Over the past few years, we’ve noticed that we don’t really function fully unless we’re a complete band. Band dynamics are crucial for us in order to have a sense of direction, to build up momentum and get things happening. Bullet with Freddie is a different Bullet than Bullet with Alex Lyrbo or Erik Almström.”
Bullet have always carried the banner of traditional heavy metal without irony or apology.
In 2025, does staying true to that spirit feel like resistance, responsibility, or simply second nature?
“You don’t start playing heavy metal in order to take on a lot of responsibility – quite the opposite, really. Resistance is always part of trying to scrape by as a touring band, so that doesn’t feel very different now compared to 25 years ago. What we do as a band has always come naturally to us. If you listen through our older material, you can definitely hear some experimentation and searching – everything hasn’t always been crystal clear along the way, but if so, it has always been about honest exploration, never about trying to be something we’re not.”
The upcoming album ‘Kickstarter‘ signals motion, ignition, and forward drive.
Was this record born mainly out of frustration, renewal, or a pure hunger to keep moving?
“Once again, frustration is a natural part of writing music and making records after 25 years. We’ve never dealt with renewal for its own sake – changes or development in what we create have to come naturally. It’s more the hunger you mention that keeps us going. Like all bands, we’ve had moments of doubt or reevaluation of what we’re doing, but we always land in the same place: this is what we do. After 25 years, a band is no longer a ‘phase in life’, but something else – more woven into existence as a whole.”
Your relationship with fans – especially the ‘Bullet Bastards‘ – feels unusually personal and reciprocal.
How much do those long nights at bars after shows actually shape the band’s identity compared to time spent in rehearsal rooms or studios?
“All the parts you mention probably shape the band, and in a way, they’re all equally important. If you’re never in the rehearsal room, the band doesn’t exist, and if you never go into a studio and record anything, people will at least think you’ve stopped existing – so those parts are obviously vital. But being out there and meeting the people you feel connected to in the way you do within the heavy metal scene is probably the biggest driving force for me right now. Without that part, everything would feel pretty pale.”
I first met you after a show in autumn 2019, when we celebrated together in a bar – no interviews, no agenda, just metalheads sharing a night.
Do moments like that still mean as much to you as festivals, press, and milestones?
“As I said, that probably means more than anything else, even though festivals are also a fantastic way to meet people and share nights together. Doing press is a nice reminder that you’re still somewhat relevant, but I’d much rather just talk freely over a bunch of beers – even if you happen to be a music journalist.”
Since your early days in Växjö, Bullet have survived trends, revivals, and algorithm-driven scenes.
What does longevity really cost a heavy metal band – personally and creatively?
“Looking back, you could actually argue that Bullet were part of a broader trend in the very beginning. We – and maybe bands like Crashdïet – were probably reactions to all the nu-metal and -core genres that started popping up everywhere. I mean, even many of those who were fully into black metal in ’98 still had their roots in Iron Maiden or Kiss, but around the turn of the millennium, the development seemed to completely lose its connection to classic hard rock. Later on, the scene exploded with bands that had more or less ‘retro’ influences. Some of them seem to have faded away, and now I’m not even sure what the trend is – Battle Beast? At least we created something we truly believed in, and that’s why we’ll probably just keep doing it. In the long run, I think that costs you less than constantly trying to follow trends or twisting yourself inside out to be insanely innovative and unique.”
Your music is often described as fast, aggressive, and uncompromising – but beneath the steel there’s also warmth and loyalty.
Is that balance intentional, or something that only becomes clear in hindsight?
“I think warmth and loyalty exist in all really great bands. There are plenty of bands out there that are faster and more aggressive than Bullet. If anything, we’re uncompromising to a greater extent. We definitely have integrity and are quite sensitive when something doesn’t feel right artistically – nothing with Bullet is done casually or ‘ironically’. At the same time, we like to have a twinkle in our eye and can be pretty silly at times. If you can’t handle that, things quickly become very uptight – few things are more embarrassing than people who take themselves way too seriously.”
Seven (almost eight) years passed between ‘Dust To Gold‘ and this new chapter.
What does time away from the spotlight give you that constant forward momentum never can?
“Even though we never really took a break or put the band on hold, people seem to receive ‘Kickstarter’ as a fresh start – maybe even as a reunion – and that’s probably fine. In some way, it seems to create a certain added value. I guess if you’re constantly and steadily putting out new releases, new gigs, new updates, people might start taking your presence for granted, and it becomes harder to surprise them. Time will tell whether it was good for us to have some air between releases. It’s not something we planned or even reflected on yet.”
Many bands soften their sound over time.
Bullet seem to sharpen theirs instead.
Is that a conscious defiance of expectation – or simply the only honest way you know how to play?
“I know that I personally felt ‘Full Pull’ became far too old-man-ish and lazy. With ‘Storm Of Blades’, I longed for more metal, but after that, things have mostly flowed naturally. Going into ‘Kickstarter’, we didn’t have any detailed master plan for the sound. We met up in the studio at some point during the songwriting process, listened to a few records, and talked about sound. We mostly landed on stripping away some effects and then letting the rest be whatever it became. We always use the same instruments and amplifiers in the studio as we do live, and we let that sound – combined with how we actually play – determine the final result.”
You’ve shared stages with legends, survived broken tour buses, lineup changes, and industry shifts.
What part of Bullet’s journey still feels unresolved to you?
“There are obviously a lot of places in the world we haven’t played yet – that’s definitely the biggest unresolved part. So far, we’ve mostly toured Europe. Of course, it would also be nice to reach a level where you can afford to expand the team around the band with proper management and a larger crew. Where gigs always pay properly and you never have to wonder whether there’ll be a dressing room, or whether you’ll have to beg for a few last beers at the end of the night. Most of the time things work out fine for us, but sometimes the level is still a bit shaky.”
Looking back at an interview from 2023, there was a strong focus on roots and instinct.
Has instinct become more reliable – or more dangerous – over the years?
“I’m not entirely sure what you mean by instinct here, and I don’t know which one of us did the previous interview. I assume you’re talking more about gut feeling, and that’s definitely something that builds with experience and therefore over time. So generally, I’d say instinct becomes more secure over the years – not necessarily more accurate, but easier to trust.”
In a time when heavy metal often competes for attention rather than loyalty – who do you really feel you’re making this new album for?
“We do what we do primarily for ourselves. Of course, we’re very happy and grateful for everyone who appreciates us and chooses to follow us. It’s sometimes strange how much impact you can have on people as a regular rock band. More attention would obviously help us reach more people who might understand what we do, but if you focus too much on that, you risk watering things down – and in the process, you might lose both yourself and your die-hard fans. Loyalty isn’t something you choose or compete over; it’s something that’s built over time through honesty in what you do.”
If someone discovers Bullet for the very first time through this upcoming album – what do you hope they immediately understand about who you are, without reading a single interview?
“It would be fantastic if new fans discover us through ‘Kickstarter’, by stumbling across the music first, without any biases. That’s how I discovered a lot of music when I was young. You understand everything you need through the music, the lyrics, and the imagery. What you don’t understand – or maybe misunderstand – can sometimes make it even better. Everything today is so influencer-oriented: behind-the-scenes material, the story behind the songs and processes often get almost as much focus as the music or the band itself. When I was 10 years old, I read in a regular newspaper that Duff McKagan from Guns N’ Roses only drank Swedish Absolut Vodka. I remember thinking that was completely insane. That kind of mystery and naivety was allowed back then. I miss that a little. Thanks! Stay Wild!”
‘Kickstarter‘ does not sound like an attempt to reclaim something or reinvent the wheel, but rather like the result of a band that knows exactly why it is still here.
Bullet have nothing to explain and nothing to prove – neither to themselves nor to the scene.
What remains is trust in their own instinct, loyalty to those who have walked this path alongside them for years, and the simple, almost old-fashioned conviction that heavy metal is at its strongest when it is not chasing attention, but truth.

Christian:
“Expansive music takes you on a journey and unfolds in its own rhythm.”

Jens:
“Listening should be enjoyable first – everything else can come afterwards.”

Jens:
“We try to create something new from long-familiar ingredients.”

Jens:
“A piece is finished when I feel: ‘This is exactly right for me now.’”

Christian:
“Atmosphere clearly comes before structure.”

Christian:
“Our brain seems to have a need for structure, even when we flirt with chaos.”

Christian:
“Sound and image inspire and reflect each other.”

Christian:
“Dynamics, silence, and unexpected moments keep long pieces alive.”

Jens:
“The voice is the most personal instrument there is.”

Jens:
“Making music is first of all great, positive fun.”

Jens:
“I have no patience at all – which makes it amazing that others listen so patiently.”

Christian:
“Pure repetition is not interesting to me – that’s what cover bands are for.”

Jens
“What happens live exists only in that exact moment – and never again.”

Christian:
“In psychedelic music, everything is possible – nothing has to be fixed.”

Their music doesn’t unfold in verses and choruses – it unfolds in states.
Somewhere between psychedelic rock, krautrock motion, and post-rock patience, The Black Cat’s Eye create long-form pieces that feel less like compositions and more like environments one can enter and inhabit.
Atmosphere outweighs structure, repetition becomes ritual, and sound and image dissolve into one continuous process.
In this conversation, Jens and Christian talk about music as a shared space, the balance between order and chaos, patience as a listener’s virtue, and why immersion matters more than explanation.
Your music often feels less like a classic song format and more like a state one is drawn into.
When does a piece start to ‘work‘ for you – when it stands structurally, or when it mentally takes you to a specific place?
Jens:
“For me, a piece is finished when I listen to it and feel: ‘This is exactly right for me now.’ Of course, that is also structurally related, but above all it’s this feeling of: ‘Now the song is finished.’ Before that, I usually have the sense that things don’t quite fit together yet. When that point is reached is hard to describe – I just feel it, like I said.”
Christian:
“Atmosphere clearly comes before structure. I remember a quote by Edgar Froese of Tangerine Dream where he roughly says that in psychedelic music everything is possible and nothing has to be fixed – especially not classic song structures like verse and chorus. When I work on a new piece and record a demo, it has to create a special atmosphere from the very beginning, one that grips me and transports me to another place.”
‘Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects‘ sounds like an attempt to decipher something uncontrollable.
Do you see music more as a tool for order – or as a conscious invitation to chaos?
Jens:
“While making music and creating a song, I mainly experience it as a great, positive joy. Afterwards, I sometimes think about the therapeutic aspect – that you can process and reflect on a lot through it – but you don’t have to talk about that all the time… ;)”
Christian:
“Both are possible. Still, I believe that music based on a certain sense of order is closer to the human ear. Our brain seems to have a need for structure, for categorizing and connecting things. Our music also consists of riffs, melodies, and phrases that come together as a whole, as a song. In that sense, I tend more toward order. Chaos, however – as a conscious concept – fascinates me just as much.”
You move naturally between psychedelic rock, krautrock, and post-rock without sounding nostalgic.
Where do you draw the line between conscious reference and mere repetition?
Jens:
“First of all, I’m glad you see it that way. Nostalgia can sometimes be something very beautiful – without the ‘everything was better back then’ attitude, because it often wasn’t. I do indulge in nostalgia from time to time myself; I’ve recently started collecting very old Rock Hard magazines again (roughly the first 50 issues), and that clearly satisfies a nostalgic mood. But you also see that even back in the late ’80s and early ’90s, this was already a topic in music and music journalism. I think with us it’s genuine reference, not simple repetition 😉 At least that’s the attempt: to create something new from long-familiar ingredients taken from all kinds of genres.”
Christian:
“I try to avoid very explicit references. What inspires me more are characteristic sounds or certain sonic atmospheres – for example, the overall sound of 1970s progressive rock. Pure repetition is out of the question for me; that’s something cover bands can do.”
Many of your pieces build tension through long arcs rather than clear climaxes.
How important is patience to you – both when writing and when listening?
Jens:
“I actually have no patience at all, which makes it even more amazing to me that others seem to have the patience to listen to the pieces I impatiently pluck out of orbit! So thank you for that!”
Christian:
“I try to structure our music in a way that remains engaging over longer passages. Dynamics play a central role in this: developing from quiet to loud, an unexpected moment of silence, or a sudden outburst you don’t anticipate. Attention and openness are therefore important when listening. I also try to give the pieces grooves that feel as hypnotic and compelling as possible.”
It’s audible that the balance of songwriting within the band has shifted.
What has this new dynamic released emotionally and musically that may have remained hidden before?
Jens:
“I’ve actually always been making songs, music, and sounds – for other bands I played in, for friends’ projects who needed music or sound for their art, or simply for myself. And always across different genres. When it came time to develop new songs for a new TBCE album, I made demos and gave them to Christian. He liked some of them and sent me new material of his own, which I commented on. That’s how we more or less put together the setlist for the new album. It became a bit more rock-oriented, since my pieces have a rockier framework, and that complemented his more atmospheric material very well. Although ‘Sternenfels’ is his piece, and that also turned out rather ‘rocky’ – not as spherical as many of his other tracks.”
Christian:
“I think our music has become somewhat heavier overall. The pieces are rockier, and the different stylistic signatures of the individual songwriters complement each other very well.”
Instrumental music is often described as ‘open to interpretation‘.
Are there still images, thoughts, or states you hope resonate while listening?
Jens:
“First of all, listening should be enjoyable – and if that happens, that’s already great. If your thoughts are carried somewhere else while listening, that’s wonderful. Overall, I hope it evokes positive thoughts. We certainly don’t want to spread fear or oppressive feelings with this band – I’d rather counteract that with our music. Especially with the world-political news of recent years already triggering negative emotions for many people, I don’t need to reinforce that.”
Christian:
“Our music should always evoke emotions, images, and inner worlds.”
Your music feels ritualistic, almost meditative, without slipping into esotericism.
What role do repetition and trance play for you – musically and personally?
Jens:
“Trance doesn’t really play a big role in my life. Repetition can be fun – revisiting a beautiful place, watching a great film again, or listening to great music repeatedly. Creating a song with a constantly repeating beat can also be great fun. But I find variety and discovering or experiencing new things just as important and enjoyable – even if it feels more demanding at first. You’re often rewarded with new insights and impressions.”
Christian:
“Trance and ecstasy play a central role for me. It’s about switching off the mind and fully surrendering to the moment. Repetition is an essential element here: it creates spaces you can immerse yourself in, experience a hypnotic flow, and get completely lost in sound. Musically and personally, it’s a way to experience intense presence – a way of stretching time and dissolving into the music without it ever becoming boring.”
The album was largely recorded live.
What can a collective moment in a room capture that even perfect individual takes never could?
Jens:
“Togetherness. Several people creating something special in exactly that moment – something that exists and sounds that way only then. The next time, it would be different. There’s a certain magic when it really works and everyone says afterwards: that was a great take. And when you listen again the next day and think: that really was great.”
Christian:
“First of all, it’s a practical decision. Recording drums, bass, and two guitars together on the first day saves at least three times as much time. But it’s not just about efficiency. Music is something that ideally comes into being together with other people – preferably friends. Only through interaction does a piece fully unfold. That’s also what I love about live concerts: there is only this one version that emerges in the moment – immediate, unique, and irreplaceable.”
References to krautrock ideas such as movement, cycles, and process are clearly perceptible.
Do you see your pieces as finished works – or as snapshots of an ongoing path?
Jens:
“I’d take both answers!”
Christian:
“First and foremost, they are always snapshots – usually carefully prepared and rehearsed. In live concerts, however, we orient ourselves very closely to the atmosphere and structure of the pieces. In the studio, we try to capture them in their best versions, which usually works quite well. That’s why we also set very high standards for ourselves live: some pieces are played almost exactly as on the record, to make that moment as authentic and tangible as possible.”
With ‘The Magic Ballon‘, a voice appears more clearly for the first time in your otherwise instrumental world.
Does a voice automatically change the relationship between band and listener?
Jens:
“I think so, because it’s the most personal instrument you have. The sound comes directly from you – regardless of whether it’s manipulated afterward or not. You immediately have a personal reaction to a voice. I can like songs even if I’m not completely into the guitar sound, but if I don’t like the voice, it becomes very difficult.”
Christian:
“I’m a big fan of the human voice and well-thought-out, sophisticated lyrics. For me, the voice is the most original and touching of all musical instruments. With my lead guitar melodies, I try to emulate the expressiveness and nuances of the human voice.”
Your music demands attention without imposing itself.
Is this a conscious counter-design to today’s fast-paced culture – or simply your natural form of expression?
Jens:
“I’d say it’s a natural expression. I couldn’t develop a 10- or 20-minute song purely as a counter-concept anyway – I wouldn’t have the patience, the desire, or the time for that.”
Christian:
“When I write my own music, today’s fast-paced world doesn’t really matter to me. I don’t try to cater to it. So yes, I’d say it’s a natural and self-evident form of expression for me. I’ve always been fascinated by expansive, sprawling works of art and music – works that take you on an imaginary journey and unfold in their own rhythm.”
Visually, you work with strong symbols like spirals, rituals, and contrasts.
How closely are sound and image actually intertwined for you?
Christian:
“Our music is visual in nature, so it makes sense to choose strong visual symbols for the cover. An image can inspire a certain kind of music – and conversely, music can evoke and inspire images. Sound and image are therefore closely intertwined for us; they reflect and enrich each other, allowing the listening experience to also become a visual one.”
If someone discovers ‘Decrypting Dreams Of Weird Animals And Strange Objects‘ years from now – what should ideally remain first:
a specific feeling, a thought, or simply the urge to dive back in?
Jens:
“That someone says: cool songs, I really like this :)”
Christian:
“That would be truly fantastic: that our music still feels fresh and alive even a hundred years from now – as if it had just been created.”
The Black Cat’s Eye are not interested in guiding the listener – they are interested in opening space.
Their music thrives on patience, repetition, and subtle transformation, resisting both nostalgia and instant gratification.
What remains is not a message, but an experience:
one that can be entered, left, and re-entered, always slightly changed.
Whether encountered live, on record, or years from now in a quiet room, these pieces invite the listener to slow down, listen deeply, and remain – if only for a moment – inside the flow.
Interview conducted by Fok ‘bs’.
Questions answered by Jens Cappel and Christian Blaser.

“We just play what we like to hear – that’s why we’ll never be an exact copy of ourselves.”

“‘The Dead Don’t Run’ brings back the original spirit with 20 years of experience added.”

“’The Dead Don’t Run’ is proof that Sanity’s Rage survives – even in spite of the wrong people.”

“2025 isn’t 1985. A lot has happened – and we’re not ignoring that.”

“The urgency is set from the beginning, no matter how long it takes to finish a song.”

“I will never tell my own story – only how it makes me feel.”

“I want people to feel the anger, the pain, and the RAGE.”

“It’s like picking up where you left off, only older and more experienced.”

“We’re thrashing at 200 BPM – but we’re also proud of showing another side of the band.”

“The riffs make the attitude – the lyrics underline the feeling.”

“You can be a virtuoso, but without feeling there’s nothing worth listening to.”

“With the original guys back, the foundation is true thrash again.”

“Five musicians don’t make a lasting band – it takes more.”

“We’ve got nothing to prove. We are Sanity’s Rage.”

Sanity’s Rage have never been interested in nostalgia, comfort, or compromise.
From their earliest releases to the long road leading up to ‘The Dead Don’t Run‘, the Belgian thrash outfit has operated on one core principle:
play what feels right – and mean every second of it.
After lineup changes, long silences, and personal fractures, the band returns not softened by time, but sharpened by it.
What emerges is an album driven by conviction, urgency, and hard-earned clarity – thrash metal rooted in tradition yet unafraid to evolve.
We spoke with Kenny M (vocals), Kenny C (guitars) and Tim DB (guitars) about defiance, reunion, anger, honesty, and why feeling still matters more than speed.
‘The Dead Don’t Run‘ feels deliberate rather than nostalgic.
How conscious were you about avoiding the trap of sounding like a band reliving its past?
Kenny M:
“Sanity’s Rage have always had a very convinced ‘we play what we like’ approach. We start from a solid and elaborate preference for thrash, but other influences tend to slip in unavoidably. With ‘The Rage Of One’ (2006 – EP) we made the blueprint. Though ‘You Are What You Swallow’ was finished in another line-up, the same applied, but with other musicians and influences involved. ‘The Dead Don’t Run’ brings back the original spirit and drive with an added 20 years of experience and both old-school and modern influences. Since we don’t limit ourselves to a narrow rulebook and just play what we like to hear, we’ll never be an exact copy of ourselves, yet always retain a specific sound and logical continuation in our sound.”
After more than a decade between albums, what did time change for you creatively – and what did it leave completely untouched?
Kenny M:
“After the split with the rest of the musicians in 2016, I took a year off from any musical activities. It helped clear my mind from the writer’s block I encountered over the years with the previous lineup and the bitter taste the breakup left me with. Exactly one year later I was approached by a guitarist friend of mine to start another project. A different style, a different concept. My creative flame was reignited, the fire of Sanity’s Rage was left smoldering. The next few years gave me plenty of time to gather inspiration to feed it when the time came, with a fresh mind and free of past limitations.”
Tim DB:
“After having been kicked out of the band, I kept playing music, ranging from the thrash metal I had left behind to punk rock and even some Indie pop rock music in our native language. However, in metal, I kept listening to the same styles of music and I kept playing the same styles of music and I never lost my love for the ‘thrashy’ side of metal.”
Kenny C:
“I actually stopped playing guitar and barely listened to any music for a decade as I moved my focus to work & new family situations. So for me personally, rejoining Sanity’s Rage and rediscovering my love for guitar & thrash metal, initially brought me back to the ‘Rage of One’ era. Over the past few years I also (re)discovered bands like Pantera, Machine Head and Gojira that definitely influenced me in writing new riffs.”
Thrash metal thrives on urgency.
How do you recreate that sense of immediacy when writing music over a longer, more patient timeline?
Kenny M:
“Our songs aren’t written collaboratively. Almost an entire song is written by one of the guitar players, then the rest of us finish our parts. This way, the flow of the song and the urgency is set from the beginning no matter how long it takes to finish up.”
Tim DB:
“Kenny C and I have always been a good match when it comes to songwriting. We have a very similar taste in thrash metal and a similar style in playing guitar and writing songs. We just know that what the other one is writing is going to be worthy of a full song. Sure, it happens that some riffs are turned down, but they are definitely a minority.”
Your sound balances classic thrash DNA with modern sharpness.
Where do you personally draw the line between evolution and dilution?
Kenny M:
“Whatever works works. Groove thrash, death thrash, melodic death… Pantera, Machine Head, The Haunted, they are all thrashing bands, even though they don’t follow the bay area or teutonic rulebook. 2025 isn’t 1985. A lot has happened and a lot of genres have branched out and been diversified. Many of the New Wave Of Thrash bands base their sound on a deep nostalgia for the 80’s and that’s fine. We on the other hand play what we feel is Sanity’s Rage material and that’s always rooted in the broad thrash setting. After YAWYS I felt dilution seeping in. With the former lineup, they didn’t have any thrash background and their heart wasn’t in it either. The thrash feel was gone. And though we had enough material to make two albums, I could hardly work with anything they delivered. It didn’t feel right. Now, with the original guys back, the foundation is true thrash again, and everything else is a go, as long as it fits the SR sound.”
Tim DB:
“Exactly so, there will always be a thrash foundation, because that’s just who we are and what we love. On top of that, we will lay down whatever we like to hear and whatever sounds right to us.”
Many bands soften with age – lyrically or musically.
Was there ever a temptation to do so, or did anger simply take on a different form?
Tim DB:
“We’ve never given that any thought, to be honest. Again, we’re truly making the music that we love and as you can hear on ‘The Dead Don’t Run’, we’re thrashing at 200 BPM in some songs, but the final song ‘Sanity Lies In Ruin’ shows a different side of the same band. We’ve always been joking about writing ‘a ballad’ and I think this is as close as we’re going to get to a ballad, even though we never intended it to be one. It just felt right to write this song and we couldn’t be more proud of the richness it contains, both musically and lyrically!”
Kenny M:
“As Tim describes there’s a more personal and introspective side to part of the album. But compared to our first EP we did together, this had always been part of Sanity’s Rage. Even if I write based on personal experiences or feelings, I will never tell my own story, just how it makes me feel. If you know, you know. If you don’t, you can still relate to the feeling. That’s very much present in ‘Sanity Lies In Ruin’. On the other hand songs like ‘Blood Calls for Blood’, ‘Nothing Sacred Will Hold’ and ‘Sanity’s Rage’ seem like social and political manifests, while they are also very personal frustrations and contemplation that drove my writing.”
The album title suggests defiance rather than resignation.
What does ‘The Dead Don’t Run‘ symbolize for you on a personal or artistic level?
Kenny M:
“On an artistic level it’s proof that Sanity’s Rage survives with the right people. On a personal level it’s proof that Sanity’s Rage survives in spite of the wrong people. It’s defiance that was endured and nurtured for 10 years towards people who I considered to be my friends but kicked me and turned their back on me when I was at my lowest. The song is about the ghosts of that past, not getting any closure, not allowing myself to. It’s by far the angriest song, yet from a very vulnerable source.”
Reuniting core members after years apart can be powerful but risky.
What surprised you most about working together again?
Tim DB:
“It all started with (quite) a few beers at a show of one of our other bands and I recall the exact words being: ‘Dude, we should get Sanity’s Rage back on track’ but it might have sounded a bit hazier! Nonetheless, we did manage to convince everyone and it felt right from the start. Unfortunately, Kristof Meert (drums) had to throw in the towel after a few shows because of severe lower back pains. Enter Sam Stoelzaet, who has lifted the whole band to a higher level and pushing himself and us further than we had imagined.”
Kenny M:
“The uncertainty and possible doubts were almost instantly lifted during the first jams and practice sessions. It’s like picking up where you left off, only older and more experienced. The latter showed as soon as new songs were being put to the table. Then we knew not only the soul of the band was back, but also its fullest potential ever.”
Belgium has a strong but often understated metal scene.
How has being part of that environment shaped your mentality as a band?
Kenny M:
“20 years ago was a whole different scene than now, in fact, for all 3 releases the times and scene were different. When we started out we were a band of relatively young guys who played purebred thrash. In a scene that had moved on to brutal death metal and dark cult black metal. While it gave us some opportunities to play with bigger names such as After All, Destructor, Laaz Rockit, locally it wasn’t the easiest match with most bands. By the time ‘You Are What You Swallow’ came out we were in full New Wave Of Thrash spirit. The complete opposite. Loads of thrash band, loads of thrash gigs. Considering it also took us a while to get our first full album out, we really had to make our mark in between the huge wave of bands. Now we are happy to be back together in a lineup that’s solid, has a great creative interaction and makes music we all feel and stand for. Even after all these years people really resonate with our sound and are excited we are back, or should I say still around, which makes it all the more satisfying.”
Tim DB:
“We play ‘angry’ music, but we’re very jolly fellows and we really want that attitude to show when we arrive at a venue, meet other bands and people and even when we are on stage. We want to deliver as professionally as possible, but we also want to show that we are really enjoying what we are doing and that we are grateful for every stage that we are given. Years ago, there used to be a genuine competition between bands, but we feel like that has disappeared. Sure, there are thousands of bands out there and only a limited amount of stages, but we can be truly happy for other (befriended) bands when they manage to get a spot somewhere that we didn’t.”
You’ve shared stages with genre legends over the years.
What separates bands that endure from those that burn bright and disappear?
Tim DB:
“We’re not just five guys playing music, we’re five true friends who come together to play the music they love and we share life events and life’s troubles with each other. We share, we listen and then we’ll t(h)rash all that shit down the drain for at least a little while. That’s what binds us together and that’s what’s already making us think and talk about the next album and other future plans.”
Kenny M:
“I think with the lineup changes we’ve proven that point. At a certain moment the band consisted only of me, a couple of boxes of merch and the ambition to keep the spirit alive. Because the other musicians didn’t have that connection, not with me, not with the band. Especially in getting back with the original crew and finding someone like Sam who matches perfectly, it proves Tim’s point. 5 musicians don’t make a lasting band, it takes more.”
Thrash has always been about more than speed – it’s about intent.
What do you feel is missing in a lot of modern aggressive music today?
Tim DB:
“I’ve never been the best guitar player when it comes to lightning fast solos and I never will be. But I know that I’m good at writing riffs and songs and that’s where I want my time and energy to go. The internet is filled with guitar players who want to show the world how fast they are and at the end of their video, you have FELT exactly nothing. I don’t want that in our music. I want people to feel the anger, the pain and the RAGE!”
Kenny M:
“Very true. You can be the most insane virtuoso musically, but if you don’t have a feeling to share, there’s nothing worth listening to. That certainly goes for lyrics as well. While there’s many who don’t share this opinion, or don’t really care if the lyrics are of a certain standard, I appreciate a certain effort and standard. Give me something to feel and believe. Be it criticism, emotion. Even satire and fun can be great if it has some form of wit to it.”
If someone new to Sanity’s Rage starts with this album, what aspect of your identity do you hope they grasp first:
the message, the riffs, or the attitude?
Tim DB:
“I think I’ve answered that in the previous question. I want people to feel our music and not just hear it.”
Kenny M:
“It’s such an essential part of all of our writing that it is inseparable really. The riffs make the attitude, the lyrics underline the feeling. As soon as I heard the first raw demo tracks (on tape, back in the early 2000’s), I had this very feeling with Sanity’s Rage. These riffs tell me their vibe, their feeling and then based on that vibe, the lyrics come.”
Do you see ‘The Dead Don’t Run‘ as closure – or as a reset that opens the door to a more active future?
Tim DB:
“For me, it was a clear reset of Sanity’s Rage. We’ve now shown the world what we are and who we are as a band and on this path we will continue. Our take on thrash metal won’t change on the next album, but we will definitely have a few surprises up our sleeves, just because we think it will sound nice. Not too many thrash bands end a song with a piano outro, like we did in ‘Reeducate The Masses’, but to us, that was exactly what the song needed before we could really lay it down.”
Kenny M:
“Like stated before, it’s definitely a certain closure for me. In moving on, I can let go and look forward. It’s definitely not closure with anything musical related. We just prove we keep going and growing and will keep on doing so, without restrictions or hesitation.”
Looking ahead:
is your motivation now driven more by legacy, or by the hunger to prove something still unfinished?
Kenny M:
“Sanity’s Rage will be finished when we call it finished. We don’t feel any urge to prove anything, that’s what makes this work. We are all musicians that have a shared passion to create and play. Sanity’s Rage proves the best framework for us to do so, and the five of us prove to be the best lineup to make this work in a very smooth, almost organic way. With others it didn’t work this way. In the end they left.”
Tim DB:
“Exactly, we’ve got nothing to prove. We are Sanity’s Rage and we hope you like our music. If you don’t, that’s fine. We respect that.”
‘The Dead Don’t Run‘ is neither a farewell nor a victory lap.
It is a statement of survival – forged through time, tension, and an unbroken belief in what thrash metal is meant to do:
channel intent, emotion, and raw human fire.
Sanity’s Rage sound unified, hungry, and unburdened, moving forward without hesitation or nostalgia-driven restraint.
There is no chase for legacy here, no need for validation.
Just five musicians, bound by trust, history, and shared purpose – still standing, still raging, and very much alive.
by Fok ‘bs’

“My goal was never just a band, but to create a world one can enter.”

“The landscapes I compose from are inner landscapes.”

“It’s not resistance – it’s honesty.”

“Part of the music arises from meditative immersion – creating a certain flow.”

“Within art and music, different rules apply. They suggest a hidden reality.”

“Solitude and isolation are deliberately blurred – they cannot always be separated.”

“I hope they feel atmosphere, fire, energy, and a creative spark – before understanding.”

“Nature can be harsh and unforgiving. Becoming aware of its dark side makes everything more interesting.”

“If silence appears, it is always conscious and intentional.”

“Darkness can confront – or quietly accompany – it depends on the intention of the track.”

“I like to stumble into songs. How they turn out is never clear at the beginning.”

“It’s more interesting when things remain open and are never fully answered.”

“I prefer to look beyond national borders.”

“A certain black metal influence should always remain.”

Tåkevandrer is not music that asks to be understood – it asks to be entered.
Rooted in atmospheric black and doom metal, yet unconcerned with genre borders or instant gratification, the project unfolds like an inner terrain shaped by meditation, patience, and controlled darkness.
These songs move slowly, guided by silence, restraint, and a deep awareness of nature’s indifference rather than its beauty.
In this conversation, (Taranis – mastermind of Tåkevandrer) speaks about music as a place, about honesty over resistance, and about allowing meaning to remain unresolved.
What emerges is a portrait of an artist less interested in explanation than immersion.
Your music often feels less like a collection of songs and more like a continuous state of being.
Do you think of Tåkevandrer as a band – or as a place listeners temporarily enter?
“I would say definitely the second one. My personal goal from the beginning was to create a form of art, a world one can enter. This will likely become even more important in the future. Part of the music also arises from the practice of meditative immersion. I have my own method for bringing myself into this state, for creating a certain flow.”
Atmospheric black and doom metal both rely heavily on patience and restraint.
How do you personally recognise the moment when a passage has said enough and doesn’t need to grow further?
“Its kind of a feeling, but usually I give each track some extra time and wait some days to internally check if anything is missing. The final touches are added through discussions with Cyhyrae. However, the overall structure is already pretty much finalized.”
Nature in your work doesn’t feel romanticised or comforting – it feels indifferent, even ritualistic.
What kind of relationship do you personally have with the landscapes that inspire your sound?
“Based on my own life experience, I would definitely say that nature can be quite harsh and unforgiving, so I can only confirm that nature has been a very guiding force for me. Of course, this also influences one’s feelings towards nature and how one perceives it, and also makes one aware of its ‘dark side’, to which one can be exposed. But it also makes everything more interesting. There are, however, moments of romanticization along the way.”
Many bands use mysticism as imagery;
your lyrics feel closer to invocation than symbolism.
Do you approach writing as interpretation – or as an act of opening something you don’t fully control?
“I like to stumble into songs. I start something, then let it go, and how it will turn out in the end isn’t really clear at the beginning. Furthermore, in collaboration with Cyhyrae, things develop in new and different ways. Personally, I also find it more interesting when things remain open or are never fully answered in lyrically parts.”
Silence and negative space play an important role in your music.
Is silence something you consciously compose with, or does it emerge naturally during the writing process?
“So far, there have been few such moments, but if they do occur, they will definitely be conscious and intentional. Furthermore, there are sometimes moments when it is appropriate and very beneficial for the overall atmosphere.”
Your songs unfold slowly, demanding attention rather than rewarding instant impact.
In an era of short attention spans, do you see this as resistance – or simply honesty?
“It’s all about honesty. Music holds a special place in our lives, it also offers a brief escape from everyday life. Within art and music, different rules apply, which aren’t always necessarily fictional, but rather suggest a hidden reality behind them.”
Do you see a clear emotional difference between solitude and isolation in your music, or are those two states deliberately blurred?
“They are deliberately blurred because one cannot always be easily separated from the other.”
The atmosphere you create feels deeply internal, almost introspective, yet vast at the same time.
When composing, do you imagine an inner landscape, or an external world the listener walks through?
“From inner landscapes.”
Austria has a strong but often understated extreme metal underground.
Do you feel shaped by that environment, or do you see Tåkevandrer as existing somewhat outside of regional identity?
“Oh dear… that’s a difficult question. It’s a bit of both! I’ve always had a much stronger international focus of my tastes. Of course, we were also part of the local and regional scene with other projects… but fundamentally, I prefer to look beyond national borders.”
Your music invites immersion rather than explanation.
How important is it to you that listeners misinterpret your work in their own way?
“Personally, I think it would be more interesting, if everyone forms their own thoughts into songs, or share their own feelings. I’ve always done things that way myself, letting myself be inspired.”
Do you believe darkness in music should confront the listener – or quietly accompany them?
“That depends on the track and the lyrics. Both are possible and depend more on the intention of the track.”
As Tåkevandrer continues to evolve, what is something you never want to lose from your sound, no matter how it changes?
“A certain black metal influence should always be maintained. The genre offers a wide spectrum to play with. I could think of many creative outcomes, but who knows what future will bring?”
If someone discovers Tåkevandrer years from now, alone, late at night, with no context at all – what do you hope they feel before they try to understand?
“An atmospheric feeling with a certain fire and energy, variety and a certain creative spark.”
Tåkevandrer does not guide the listener by the hand.
Instead, it opens a threshold – into inner landscapes shaped by silence, darkness, and patient transformation.
These compositions resist simplification, not out of defiance, but out of sincerity, allowing space for misinterpretation, reflection, and personal meaning.
Whether discovered years from now in solitude or experienced fully immersed in the present moment, Tåkevandrer’s music exists as a quiet companion and a confronting force alike – a place where black metal’s fire still burns, but never demands to be named.
by Fok ‘bs’

“The new album feels like a journey through different landscapes. We always try not to get stuck on just one terrain.”

“The great machine can be everything that keeps you stuck in a grind you don’t want to be in.”

“Most of our songs aren’t planned – they just pop up from the subconscious.”

“There can’t be noise without silence. If you go full throttle all the time, you’re losing power.”

“Dortmund is a working-class town with a rough atmosphere – that’s probably where our DIY approach comes from.”

“If we can leave someone sitting still for two or three minutes after the last track ends, we are blessed.”

“We hope listeners move through calm, chaos, and trance when listening to our records.”

“For us, there is no real difference between writing for live shows and writing for the studio.”

“The ‘stoner’ label is worn out – it’s psychedelia that really keeps this scene together.”

Some bands write songs.
Others open portals.
For more than two decades, Stargo have been navigating the space between earth-heavy groove and cosmic drift, shaping long-form jams into immersive sonic journeys.
Rooted in Dortmund’s rough-edged DIY culture and fueled by subconscious improvisation, the trio continue to evolve without losing their gravitational pull.
With a new album on the horizon – spanning volcanic Martian plateaus, hypnotic machinery, and black-hole silence – we spoke to the band about landscapes, jams, psychedelia, and the emotional afterglow of a record well played.
Your sound often feels like a journey between earthbound groove and cosmic vastness.
If your next album were a landscape – volcanic, desert, ocean, or something else – what terrain would it be and why?
“One of those new songs is called ‘Tharsis’ which is a volcanic plateu on planet mars. So for that particular song the answer is quite clear. But looking at the new album in its entirety it feels more like a journey through all those different landscapes you mentioned in your question. We always try to not get stucked on just one terrain.”
Stoner music can be hypnotic and transcendent.
How do you balance groove, heaviness, and emotional resonance when composing?
“That is a quite natural process in this band, as we mostly don‘t compose in the classic way. We jam together for 20 years now, and the vast majority of our tunes have emerged from a jam. So these different states you mention are most times not planned, they just pop up from the subconscious.”
Your earlier work includes long, evolving instrumental pieces.
What role does silence or space play in the way you structure those tracks?
“It‘s a wise old saying that there canˋt be noise without silence. If you‘re going only full throttle all the time you‘re loosing power at some point. Except you‘re a Thrash or Death Metal band maybe.”
The single ‘Abazali’ ‚The Great Machine’ has a distinctive vibe.
What themes or experiences inspired its creation, and how does it connect to the rest of the upcoming album?
“All the three of us are not full time musicians. We all are stuck in the great machine called regular jobs, holding us off from musical world domination. But ‘the great machine’ can of course be everything that keeps you in a grind that you actually don‘t wanna be in. This song is quite unusual for us. It‘s the shortest song we ever made and has this special good old early QOTSA/Monster Magnet feeling, in my opinion.”
Dortmund has a rich musical and cultural history.
In what ways does your origin influence the music you make – musically, philosophically, or emotionally?
“Dortmund has always been a working-class town with a quite rough atmosphere. Maybe that‘s where our strong DIY approach comes from. And since the 80s there is a very vivid Metal and Punk scene here that we grew up with. And you can definitely recognize that in our sound.”
Stoner rock often encourages a certain looseness – improvisation, cosmic jamming, hazy texture.
How do you decide when to let a part breathe versus tighten it with precision?
“Same as in the second question, for us a natural process, mostly fueled by our subconscoius.”
Your trio dynamic has remained consistent for years.
How does your creative interplay evolve when working on an album meant for release, compared to writing for live performance?
“To be honest, I don‘t know bands that write particular for live performances. Of course you can expand songs with jam parts and stuff when playing live. And we love to do that. But for us there is no particular difference between live and studio.”
Stargo blends heavy grooves with psychedelic elements.
Do you ever think about your music in terms of states of consciousness – calm, chaos, trance?
“Well, I hope we get our listeners into all of those states when listening to one of our records. We try to not just create one particular mood.”
If you could soundtrack a moment in film or literature (not necessarily metal culture), what scene or story would fit perfectly with Stargo’s music?
“Our bandname is inspired by an old 80‘s comic superhero. So I could imagine one of our tunes in some dark, futuristic comic movie. And I love the idea of one of our songs being featured in ‘The Boyz’…”
The album art and titles in your catalog often evoke imagery beyond words.
How consciously do you think about visuals when composing musical themes?
“We are bursting with ideas for visuals, videos and stuff like that. But its so hard to let those ideas come to life. We are a small underground band and don’t have the means to.”
In a world full of subgenres and niche labels, what does the word stoner mean to you today – and what would you want someone new to the genre to understand first?
“Honestly, for me the ‘Stoner’ label is totally worn out. When it all started in the 90s it may have made sense for quite some time, when lots of bands had that one typical approach to this music. But the scene today is so diverse and has developed so far…but in the end its the more or less touch of psychedelia, not Stoner, that keeps it all together. So if you like that and you like guitars, newbie, give it a try.”
If the new album were a cosmic event (eclipse, storm, black hole, supernova), which would it be and what emotional effect would it leave in its wake?
“I pick the Black Hole, sucking you and your mind with its gigantic gravitaton on the other side, where you wake up in total silence and try to understand what just happened to you…”
Finally – what’s the emotional place you want the listener to arrive at when the last track ends, and the speakers go silent?
“When I listen to a an album for the very first time, that totally blasts my mind, I‘m always keeping still for 2 or 3 minutes, feeling like I just returned from a little journey. If we manage to bring at least a couple of people in that state of mind, we are blessed.”
Stargo don’t chase trends, labels, or neatly defined genres.
Their music breathes, stretches, collapses, and regenerates – much like the cosmic imagery that surrounds it.
Whether channeling volcanic riffs, hypnotic machinery, or the silence after total sonic collapse, the trio remain guided by instinct, friendship, and the raw joy of jamming.
If the upcoming album truly behaves like a black hole, one thing is certain: once you cross the event horizon, there’s no quick way back – only that quiet moment afterward, trying to process where the journey just took you.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Life so short — make it count. That’s exactly the appeal I want to send listeners back into their lives with.”

“I always try to keep the songs positive at their core – even when they deal with loss.”

“Secretary Of Fate is my way of covering a broad musical spectrum. I only do what I really want to do.”

“For me, it’s always the melody. I love great melodies – they’re what give me goosebumps.”

“Rock music has always been a source of uplifting power. That’s how I see Secretary Of Fate too.”

“Finding listeners today is incredibly difficult. Keeping them is even harder.”

“You hear a great rock song and suddenly feel like you could take on the whole world – that’s the essence of rock.”

“From a marketing perspective, what I do probably makes no sense – but musically it feels honest.”

“Hope is something these crazy times absolutely require.”

With ‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life‘, Secretary Of Fate once again prove that melodic rock can still carry urgency without losing warmth.
Behind the project stands Doc Florix, whose vision bridges classic AOR spirit with modern production and an unmistakably human core.
Rather than chasing trends or algorithms, Secretary Of Fate follow instinct – allowing songs to dictate their own form, energy, and emotional weight.
In this interview, Doc Florix talks about urgency versus longevity, hope as a creative constant, melody as a universal language, and why rock music still has the power to send listeners back into their lives with renewed strength.
A conversation about passion, perspective, and the simple but vital act of making every moment count.
‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life‘ carries a strong sense of urgency.
At what moment did this song stop being an idea and start feeling like something that needed to be released now?
“I have a number of song themes in the drawer. I try to provide SoF fans with varied singles that keep things interesting. After the four 80s synth remixes, I felt it was time to rock. And ‘Nothing is Shorter than Life’ was planned to be the rockiest track yet.”
Secretary of Fate often balance reflection and optimism.
How do you prevent songs about loss from slipping into resignation instead of resolve?
“I always try to keep the songs positive at their core. And I hope that’s how listeners perceive them too. That’s also up to the singers, of course. I still get excited when I hear Danny Vaughn sing ‘When the night is darkest, the day is closest’. When you watch some of the YouTube reactions, you realize how much people are moved by the songs. I’m incredibly happy about that! ‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life’ ends with the line ‘Life so short – make it count’. That is precisely the appeal with which I would like to send listeners back into their lives.”
The chorus feels designed to linger rather than overwhelm.
How conscious are you of emotional pacing when writing melodies for heavy themes?
“Interesting, I hadn’t seen it that way before, and it wasn’t planned. With ‘Nothing is Shorter Than Life’, it was clear from the outset that it would be a short song. After ‘Dust of a Future Past’, which is five minutes long and has rather cryptic lyrics, I wanted NISTL to get straight to the point. The track also has a very classic structure.”
Your recent releases lean more toward classic rock energy than the earlier synth reinterpretations.
Was this a deliberate shift, or did the song itself demand that sound?
“Secretary of Fate is my way of covering a broad musical spectrum. I only do what I really want to do. In the case of NISTL, I felt like conveying the message through straight rock energy. From a marketing perspective, it’s all pretty nonsense, and the algorithms of Spotify and co. don’t deal with it very well either. That’s why I’m all the more pleased that SoF has such open-minded listeners who are willing to go along with a lot of things. Or who forgive the 80s synth remixes and come back for more.”
The term ‘Hope Rock‘ has been attached to your music by listeners.
Do you see hope as an artistic statement, or simply as an honest byproduct of how you write?
“When the YouTuber PlayAgain? described SoF as ‘Masters of Hope Rock’, I felt very honored. How great is that? This corresponds with what I described above as the positive core of the songs. And hope is something that these crazy times absolutely require.”
Secretary of Fate resonates strongly with international radio audiences.
Do you think writing for a global audience changes how universal your lyrics need to be?
“As a non-native speaker, my song lyrics are probably not particularly complicated, which certainly helps when it comes to international audiences. I hope that this makes the messages easily accessible without being too simplistic.”
The project brings together musicians from different continents and backgrounds.
What tends to be the strongest common language when shaping a new song – rhythm, melody, or emotion?
“For me, it’s always the melody. I love great melodies. But of course, in the end, it’s the interplay of everything, and the vocals also have a special significance. I still get goosebumps when I hear Damien Edwards sing the high notes in ‘Look to the Future Now’ with such emotion.”
‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life‘ feels personal without becoming private.
Where do you draw the line between emotional honesty and overexposure?
“I believe that my lyrics address universal themes that then trigger personal associations in the listener. Specifically regarding NISTL: We all know people, some close to us and some not so close, who we feel died too soon. Then we repeatedly resolve to appreciate life and each individual day more before we fall back into our everyday routines.”
Many modern rock releases aim for immediacy.
How important is longevity to you – writing songs that still make sense years from now?
“It would be great, of course, if SoF songs had a certain longevity. The universal themes might help with that, but let’s not kid ourselves: more songs are being released now than ever before, and it’s an incredible sensory overload. Finding listeners at all in this flood of releases is incredibly difficult. Keeping them is even harder.”
Compared to your earlier singles, this track feels more grounded and direct.
Do you see this as a new phase for Secretary of Fate, or simply one chapter among many?
“As I said, SoF is always good for a surprise. But its roots are firmly planted in the melodic (hard) rock and AOR of the 80s. However, this is freely interpreted and combined with a fresh production.”
Your music often carries a quiet motivational undercurrent.
Do you think rock still has a responsibility to uplift, or is that expectation outdated?
“I think it’s great when people feel that way. For me, rock music has always been a source of uplifting power. That’s how I see SoF too!”
If listeners take just one thought away from ‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life‘, what do you hope stays with them after the final chorus fades?
“I really hope it’s that great feeling you get when you hear a fantastic rock song that moves you. You have this vague feeling that you could take on the whole world. In a way, that’s the essence of rock music.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for your insightful questions. And, of course, for your support, which is greatly appreciated.”
Secretary Of Fate may operate as an evolving collective, but the project’s heart remains constant:
melody, emotion, and a belief in rock music as a force that can still lift, motivate, and connect.
‘Nothing Is Shorter Than Life‘ doesn’t preach or dramatize – it reminds, energizes, and encourages.
In an age of overload and fleeting attention, Doc Florix chooses sincerity over strategy and feeling over formulas.
And perhaps that’s why Secretary Of Fate resonate so strongly:
because beneath the hooks, harmonies, and classic rock drive lies a simple truth – life is short, music matters, and hope still belongs in rock’n’roll.
by Fok ‘bs‘

“My music lives in an emotionally intense inner world.”

“Catharsis and connection are more intertwined than people realize.”

“Emotion feels like deep reds and bruised purples – intense, but not harsh.”

“The fear is quieter, and the honesty is stronger.”

“Feeling small or unseen doesn’t make you weak.”

“Live performance turns something private into something shared.”

“Some emotions never really age.”

“Clarity without over-explaining lets listeners find their own stories.”

“Lyrics, melody, and intention are sacred to me.”

“Vulnerability is not weakness – it’s courage.”

Scarlet Tantrum doesn’t write songs to soften the edges of emotion – she writes to sit inside them.
From burnout and obsession to grief, longing, and quiet resilience, her music explores the full weight of feeling without apology or disguise.
It’s intimate but expansive, deeply personal yet instantly relatable.
Across her recent singles, Scarlet Tantrum has carved out a space where vulnerability is not a weakness, but a force – one built on honesty, nuance, and emotional patience.
In this interview, she opens up about grief, growth, collaboration, and why letting emotions lead is the most truthful path she knows.
Your singles range from emotional burnout (‘Mannequin‘) to obsessive protection (‘Covered in Red‘).
If your music had a personality, what kind of inner world would it live in – chaotic, hopeful, desperate, or something else entirely?
“My music lives in an emotionally intense inner world – not chaotic for the sake of chaos, but deeply feeling. It’s vulnerable, conflicted, and passionate. There’s sadness, longing, anger, and hope all coexisting at once. It’s the kind of inner world where emotions aren’t muted or ignored.”
Many of your songs deal with intense emotional states.
Do you ever feel pulled between writing for catharsis and writing for connection – and how do you balance those impulses?
“I think catharsis and connection are more intertwined than people realize. I usually write for myself first to process what I’m feeling and the connection comes naturally once it’s released. When I’m truthful, people find their own meaning in it and can connect with it in different ways than others. The beauty of being so vulnerable in music is letting other people connect and feel vulnerable with you.”
Your stage name combines your fiery red hair with the idea of a ‘tantrum‘.
If emotion could be a color or force, what would it look like in sound and why?
“Emotion in my music feels like deep reds and soft bruised purples – intense but not harsh. Sonically, that translates to intimate vocals, layered harmonies, and dynamics that swell and pull back. It’s not about volume; it’s about impact. A tantrum, to me, is any powerful emotional release – love, grief, sadness, desire – and that’s exactly what the sound reflects.”
You’ve said music helped you find a voice when you felt unheard.
How do the voices of your younger self and your current self differ in the songs you write now?
“My younger self wrote from a place of confusion and needing to be understood. My current self writes with more clarity and acceptance. I still feel deeply, but now there’s more confidence in saying, this is how I feel and it’s valid. The fear is quieter, and the honesty is stronger.”
‘Other Side‘ was born from a personal experience with grief.
How does writing about loss compare to writing about anger or desire – in both process and impact?
“‘Other Side’ was one of the hardest songs to write and put out. It has taken me a long time to get to a point where I felt I was ready to share this song with everyone. I was ready to open up about something that still felt so recent and like I hadn’t come to terms with my emotions. Writing about loss is way heavier and It takes longer and requires more emotional patience. Anger and desire are immediate – they burn hot and fast – but grief sits with you. Songs about loss tend to linger longer, both for me and for listeners.”
If you could curate the soundtrack for someone going through the toughest moment of their life, which Scarlet Tantrum track would you choose first – and what should they listen for?
“I’d choose ‘Insignificant’. I’d want them to listen to the vulnerability – the softness and the space between the words. It’s a reminder that feeling small or unseen doesn’t make you weak, and that your emotions deserve to be acknowledged.”
How does performing live – especially after years of battling self-doubt – change your relationship to a song compared to the studio version?
“Live performance transforms a song from something private into something shared. After battling self-doubt for so long, singing these songs on stage feels freeing. Having fans that scream the lyrics back at me feels so surreal and it truly is the best thing ever. The imperfections during the live versions make it more real. It reminds me that the song doesn’t belong only to me anymore – it belongs to the people who feel it too.”
Your influences span indie pop, 90s/00s alt-rock and fearless performers like Hayley Williams and Halsey.
If you could have dinner with any of your influences and ask one question, who would you choose and why?
“Hayley Williams. I’d ask how she learned to evolve creatively without losing herself. She’s explored different genres and collaborations while staying genuine, and that kind of artistic integrity really inspires me.”
A lot of your songs touch on relationships that changed you.
How do you decide when a personal experience becomes a song – and when it stays private?
“If an experience still feels too raw or unresolved, I keep it private. When I can step back and understand it emotionally, that’s when it becomes a song. Writing isn’t about exposing everything – it’s about telling the truth when you’re ready.”
As an artist who works independently and also collaborates in studio (like in Nashville), how do you navigate the tension between control and collaboration?
Which parts of a song are sacred to you?
“I absolutely love to collaborate. Collaboration works best when there’s trust and egos don’t get in the way. I’m open to all ideas, and in collaboration everyone needs to be. Also know your strengths and weaknesses in the writers room. Are you good at coming up with melodies? Are you not the best at coming up with catchy hooks? You need to be able to work with people that can also help fill the areas where you feel weak. The lyrics, melody, and intention – are sacred to me. Those elements carry the truth of the song, and everything else should support that, not dilute it.”
You write with raw emotional honesty – but indie audiences also crave nuance and metaphor.
How do you balance personal truth with artistic storytelling?
“I let emotion lead and storytelling follow. Metaphors come naturally once I understand what I’m feeling. I don’t force them – I let them reveal themselves. The goal is clarity without over-explaining, so listeners can find their own stories inside mine.”
Your music often acts like a mirror – holding up pain, strength, vulnerability.
If you could change one common misconception about vulnerability in songwriting, what would it be?
“That vulnerability is weakness. It’s actually one of the strongest things you can offer as an artist. Being open takes courage, and it creates connection in a way nothing else can.”
In the fast-moving world of singles and streaming, which song of yours feels the most timeless – the one you know will still resonate in 10 years – and why?
“’Other Side’. Grief, love, and loss are universal and timeless. That song comes from a place that never really ages, and I think people will continue to find themselves in it years from now.”
Scarlet Tantrum’s music doesn’t rush toward resolution – it allows emotions to breathe, to linger, and to leave marks.
Whether exploring grief, self-doubt, or quiet strength, her songs refuse to dilute feeling for comfort or convenience.
In an era of fast releases and fleeting attention, her work stands out by embracing patience, honesty, and emotional depth.
These aren’t songs designed to pass quickly – they’re songs meant to stay, to grow alongside the listener, and to remain relevant long after the moment they were written.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Most of our songs have lives of their own.”

“‘What’ is a statement, not a question.”

“Collaboration is always part of our identity.”

“We hope that not knowing what comes next is part of the charm.”

“No one has thrown their toys out with us yet – which is a good sign.”

“Talent, sound, aptitude, and reliability matter more than age.”

“We have to like it for us to push it out.”

“I write from an empathetic place, not a personal one.”

“We don’t really know from the start where it will go.”

“We aren’t political – but the world is a strange place.”

“We would never tear it down. We refine and evolve.”

“I love a good tune. Genre doesn’t really matter.”

Few contemporary punk projects operate with the freedom – and confidence – of The Fods.
Less a fixed band than a rotating, transatlantic collective, the project thrives on collaboration, curiosity, and a refusal to repeat itself for the sake of comfort.
With each release stepping into a different sonic space, The Fods have built an identity defined not by genre boundaries, but by intent.
Their latest single, ‘What‘, continues that trajectory – deliberately open-ended, emotionally flexible, and shaped as much by process as by instinct.
In this conversation, The Fods reflect on ambiguity, collaboration without ego, and why letting songs find their own direction has become central to everything they do.
‘What‘ feels deliberately open-ended.
Was ambiguity the goal from the start, or did the song become that way organically during the process?
“Most of what we do is pretty open ended, on the fly, and we don’t really know from the start to where it will go. When I wrote those lyrics, I never dreamed it would turn out the way it did. Most of our songs have lives of their own, and we just try to guide them and take them where we think they should go.”
Your recent releases each explored very different sonic territories.
Do you see this as evolution, or as parallel versions of the same core idea?
“A bit of both I think. We don’t want to bang out 2 minute punk tunes each time, as much as we love that style. We do what we think is right for each sound, and we do it for us and for our collaborator. If people on the outside like it, then that’s great, but we have to like it for us to push it out. It does give listeners and radio stations a bit of a question to ask, as they don’t know what will come out when they start to listen, but we hope that’s part of the charm, and most are now getting used to it, and are respectful of it.”
The Fods operate as a rotating, transatlantic collective rather than a fixed band.
How does that structure challenge traditional ideas of authorship and ownership in punk music?
“We write and produce the songs, but collaborators are encouraged to be involved as much or as little as they want. We have had people return one or two takes of vocals and they want to move on to their next project, or get back to their real life. As long as we can use what they sent, then that’s fine. We have also had collaborators who wanted to do more. Play some instruments, do a guitar solo, and one guy wanted to play the bass. Again, we will generally agree and if it’s usable, we will use it.”
At what point does collaboration stop being an influence and start becoming part of the band’s identity itself?
“We hope it’s always part of our identity. The collaborators understand the assignment we give them. Some turn it down, which we respect. Some get involved loads. Some want a repeat. We communicate, and have whatsapp chats and we keep in touch, and we hope people have an alright time collaborating with us. No one has thrown their toys out with us yet, which is a good sign I think.”
‘What‘ balances confrontation and openness.
Is that tension something you consciously cultivate, or does it reflect where you are personally as writers right now?
“I think it’s where most people are, and where we are as a society. I don’t really write lyrics from a personal perspective, I rarely use life experience. I write from an empathetic place, and probably from an opposite place from where I am personally. I don’t mind being confrontational. I don’t mind being reflective or sentimental. I don’t really mind if something doesn’t make absolute sense. I think ‘What’ started out like that, but when we put the music together on it, it became a bit more than I expected. Then when Krassy put his vocals on it, it stepped up again, and now I think its just something quite special.”
Covering ‘What Do I Get?‘ isn’t just a nod to punk history – it’s personal.
How does revisiting the first song you ever learned to play change your relationship with it today?
“It doesn’t, it’s still just a great song that’s a great listen. I think what’s more personal is that I got to see Buzzcocks perform it in NYC, which sort of brought my past and my present together. Having a few beers, watching that was a bit of a moment that I very much enjoyed.”
You’ve worked with musicians across continents and generations.
What do younger collaborators bring into the Fods universe that long-time partners don’t – and vice versa?
“It’s not a question we have ever asked anyone, so I honestly can’t tell you. I don’t really think age is a consideration, I think talent, sound, aptitude, reliability are what we look for, and what collaborators try and bring. If they say they will do something, and don’t then its a problem. I would happily work with a seventeen year old, as I would a seventy, as long as they are respectful and thoughtful with what they do.”
Punk is often framed as opposition.
In 2025, what are The Fods actually pushing against – musically, culturally, or internally?
“We aren’t political. I am generally a pretty positive person, a glass more half full. There are obvious societal issues which need addressing. The world is a strange place, and that’s maybe more our outlook than rallying behind a cause. I will speak for myself here only, but I see good and bad in most things. I personally think that’s healthy. I am careful with what information I consume, and that may make me ignorant. I do, though, consider myself reasonably well read. I have a degree in history, and understand that learning from the past, from one’s own mistakes and from world mistakes can make things better. We, as a species need to be able to differentiate between the truth and none truths, and i think being punk makes that more relevant, considering some of the misconceptions punks themselves have suffered from in the past.”
Your music frequently blurs the line between punk, indie, and something harder to define.
Is genre fluidity a philosophy for you, or simply a byproduct of curiosity?
“Again, probably a bit of both. I love a good tune, it doesn’t matter what style, or what genre. When I was growing up, there was a lot of classical music around me, and I played that on the piano. The first time I heard a rock song that made me sit up and think that it was amazing was ‘Livin on a Prayer’, so I was into that sort of rock, hard rock, metal guitar sound. But being in the North West of England as a teen, we got influenced by Buzzcocks, Joy Division, New Order, Stone Roses, Happy Mondays etc and that is a softer, dancier, indie sound. I love dance music and EDM, and I would love to write a dance banger, but I think the closest I will come will be someone remixing our tunes, which we encourage. One guy has completed a remix and we have another in progress. I think that’s pretty punk.”
How do you ensure that a song still sounds like The Fods when so many different voices and backgrounds are involved?
“That’s Ol’s style and the way we produce them. He has a distinctive way of playing, and I think we produce in a way which allows our own sound and creativity to come through. We have said ‘No’ to collaborators who we thought were taking our sound a bit too far away from where it needed to be. They were cool and understood. We have given each collaborator stems so they can remix and release a song as they want to, so there may be in the future their versions out there, which we are fine with. Their sound i am sure will give a different vibe, but we wanted to control the majority of the production so it is still our song.”
There’s a strong sense of momentum in your recent singles.
Do you think in terms of individual songs, or are you always already imagining the next chapter?
“I write when I feel something. We have a shared folder with probably 50 different lyrics to go at, so we are certainly thinking we have a couple more albums in us. But we don’t set targets, we don’t have timelines, we do as we feel when we can. We both have jobs, families, and other interests, so we balance it pretty well. We don’t envisage stopping anytime soon, lets put it that way.”
If ‘What‘ is a question, what would be the one question you want listeners to ask themselves after hearing it?
“‘What’ is a statement, rather than a question. ‘What’ is the same thing being opposite to different people who have different perspectives. That’s what I feel has come out of it, probably unintentionally. I think the question then comes, why is ‘What’ different to different people, and why is that? You don’t have to agree with others’ opinion, or perspective, but it’s good to understand why they see the same thing in a different light to you.”
Looking ahead:
is the future of The Fods about refining what you’ve built – or deliberately tearing it down again to see what survives?
“We would never tear it down. We refine and evolve. We talk about what is next, and we try to improve. We will still try pushing ourselves style wise, and sometimes we will come back to what we know and love. We have found a way of working which suits us, and we will edit and tweak and build and hopefully improve as we go. We know some of the stuff to come is good, and now it’s up to ourselves to continue raising standards.”
At a time when punk can feel boxed in by its own history, The Fods continue to treat it as a living, adaptable form – one shaped by trust, empathy, and an openness to surprise.
‘What‘ doesn’t demand answers, nor does it offer slogans.
Instead, it leaves space for perspective, for contradiction, and for growth.
By refusing rigid timelines, fixed lineups, or stylistic comfort zones, The Fods have found a way to keep punk restless without losing its core.
Not by tearing things down, but by refining what already works – and letting each song decide what it wants to become next.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Pressure is only fuel. We choose how to burn it.”

“Chaos is loud, but control is lethal.”

“If we only borrow Western imagery, we become replaceable.”

“We don’t write riffs that feel empty.”

“Anything generic dies immediately.”

“Hunger creates originality.”

“Disquiet remains, even without distortion.”

“The darkness we explore is existential.”

Born far from the traditional epicenters of extreme metal, Dark Phantom from the Iraq have never relied on borrowed symbols or inherited myths.
Instead, the band carve their sound with precision, intent, and an unflinching sense of identity.
Their latest singles mark a decisive step forward – not louder, not more chaotic, but sharper, more controlled, and existentially charged.
Rather than leaning into shock value or genre routine, Dark Phantom channel pressure into purpose, transforming aggression into something deliberate and confrontational.
In this conversation, the band reflect on discipline over chaos, honesty over image, and why intent matters more than rage in modern death metal.
Extreme metal is often described as music born from pressure.
How does your personal and cultural environment shape the intensity and direction of Dark Phantom’s sound – without defining or limiting it?
“Our environment adds pressure, but pressure is only fuel. We choose how to burn it. The intensity in this single comes from personal experience, not from limitation. We refuse to let our surroundings dictate our art – they only sharpen it.”
Your recent singles feel precise rather than chaotic.
Was that a conscious decision – to channel aggression into control rather than pure violence?
“Yes – precision was the goal. Chaos is loud, but control is lethal. We wanted aggression with discipline, violence shaped into focus, not random impact. This single cuts instead of screams.”
Death metal traditionally leans heavily on Western imagery.
How important is it for Dark Phantom to create its own visual and lyrical language instead of borrowing established symbols?
“It’s essential for us to build our own language. If we only borrow Western imagery, we become replaceable. This single speaks with symbols rooted in our reality, not someone else’s mythology.”
When writing music, do you think more about emotional truth or sonic impact – and what happens when those two collide?
“Emotional truth leads. Sonic impact delivers it. When they collide, the music becomes honest, heavy, and intentional. We don’t write riffs that feel empty.”
If someone listens to Dark Phantom without knowing anything about your background, what do you hope they hear first:
rage, discipline, atmosphere, or intent?
“Intent. Rage is everywhere. Atmosphere can be trend. But intent reveals identity. We want the listener to hear purpose before anything else.”
Extreme music often functions as a form of resistance.
For you, is death metal an act of defiance, survival, expression – or simply honesty?
“For us, this single is honesty. Death metal can be defiance or survival, but honesty is the core. We present something real without apology.”
Your latest singles mark a new chapter.
What changed internally between earlier material and these releases – mindset, confidence, vision, or something else?
“What changed is vision. We stopped thinking locally and started thinking with full artistic clarity. Confidence followed – the new material knows exactly what it wants to be.”
Death metal thrives on darkness, but darkness can mean many things.
What kind of darkness does Dark Phantom explore – psychological, existential, spiritual, or abstract?
“The darkness here is existential. Not gore, not shock – the confrontation with meaning, futility, and transformation. It’s the darkness that questions you.”
How do you balance global death-metal traditions with the desire to sound unmistakably like Dark Phantom rather than part of a formula?
“We use tradition as vocabulary, not as a cage. We honor the weight of death metal but refuse formulas. Anything generic dies immediately.”
If your music were stripped of distortion and aggression, what core emotion would still remain underneath?
“Disquiet. Strip away distortion and aggression, and there is still a shifting unease – a decision forming inside the listener.”
From your perspective, what does the international metal scene often misunderstand about bands emerging from outside the usual metal strongholds?
“Many assume bands outside major scenes are imitators. In reality, we are here because we fought for the right to exist. Hunger creates originality.”
Do you see Dark Phantom as a mirror of reality – or as an escape from it?
And has that answer changed over time?
“It used to be escape. Now it’s confrontation. This single reflects reality instead of avoiding it.”
Finally:
if someone could live inside your latest singles for a single moment, what vision of reality or consciousness would they witness?
“They would witness a moment where destruction becomes direction – a consciousness choosing identity instead of collapse.”
With their latest releases, Dark Phantom make one thing unmistakably clear:
this is death metal shaped by intent rather than impulse.
Stripped of clichés and unburdened by expectation, their music confronts existence head-on – disciplined, deliberate, and deeply unsettling.
In a genre often defined by excess, Dark Phantom prove that restraint can be just as brutal, and clarity just as heavy.
What emerges is not chaos for chaos’ sake, but a sound that cuts with purpose – a reminder that the most dangerous force in extreme metal is not volume, but conviction.
by Fok ‘bs’

“When we started Doomherre, we already had a very clear vision of what we wanted to play.”

“We started to see the album more as a collection of horror stories.”

“‘Bonegoat.’ It really sets the mood.”

“People often tell us: ‘You sound like five people on stage — where’s the rest of the band?’”

“Everything is important – it’s all part of the artistic process.”

“Darkness can be beautiful, but it can also challenge the listener.”

“If a song doesn’t move us, we scrap it.”

“We’ve found our sound and the kind of music we want to make.”

“Our writing is mostly myth-building, but there’s probably a lot of subconscious material working its way in as well.”

“A full concept album that’s 100% Bonegoat saga is something we definitely want to do.”

Doom metal has always been about more than distortion and despair.
At its most potent, it builds worlds – places where atmosphere, symbolism, and sound merge into something oppressive yet strangely magnetic.
Doomherre understand this instinctively.
With ‘Serpent Shrine‘ and an upcoming album increasingly described as a ‘Book of Horror‘, the band delve deep into myth, decay, and emotional weight, without losing sight of the human pulse beneath the ritualistic surface.
Drawing on shared roots in ’90s death metal, stoner heaviness, and raw underground ethos, Doomherre craft music that feels ancient but lived-in – heavy not just in sound, but in intention.
We spoke with Doomherre about horror as narrative, atmosphere as architecture, and why Doom doesn’t have to choose between darkness and beauty.
‘Serpent Shrine‘ is a title filled with ancient and arcane imagery.
If that shrine were an actual physical place – what would it look like, and what sensations (smell, sound, atmosphere) would someone experience stepping inside?
“An overgrown temple, lit by burning torches, with the constant smell of decay hanging in the air.”
Your upcoming album has been referred to as a sinister ‘Book of Horror‘.
Is there a central storyline that binds the chapters, or is the concept intentionally fragmented like nightmares stitched together?
“Some of the songs follow a storyline, similar to what we did on ‘Bonegoat’. But since not all songs were written for that narrative – and some story-connected songs didn’t make it onto the album – we started to see it more as a collection of horror stories. Both approaches work well for us.”
Doomherre is built on members with roots in very different scenes – Stoner, Death, and raw underground metal.
How has this mixed heritage shaped your personal definition of what Doom should be in 2025?
“We actually got to know each other back in the ’90s, when we were all playing death metal bands, so we share that background. We’ve all played in stoner bands as well – only one of us has experience in progressive metal. When we started Doomherre, we already had a very clear vision of what we wanted to play.”
You’ve described ‘Dark Hand‘ as one of your most personal tracks.
If it had been written as a diary entry instead of a song – what would that entry have said?
“Another night with no sleep. This sucks big time.”
Were there songs on the EP where you deliberately decided not to lean on classic Doom conventions – in favor of something more experimental or even uncomfortable?
What motivated those decisions?
“’Stormfather’ and ‘This Burning Guilt’ were written from music that existed about ten years before Doomherre was formed, so they’re a bit more melodic. Max suggested I should sing more in the hard rock style I used back then, and it worked out great. The music for ‘Bonegoat’ also comes from that period.”
“’Serpent Shrine’ and ‘Hymn for Helios’ have Iron Maiden-inspired parts at the end – we wanted to see if we could pull that off without sounding lame. I think we delivered, and they’re great songs for festival crowds.”
Your lyrics often feel like stories wrapped in symbolism.
How much of your writing is metaphor for real experiences – and how much is meant as pure myth-building?
“That’s a great question. Mostly myth-building, but there’s probably a lot of subconscious material working its way in as well.”
You follow a strong DIY ethos – from songwriting to releases.
What freedoms has that given you, and where has it forced difficult decisions, compromises, or even creative limits?
“Compromises are always part of the process. In terms of limitations, time and energy are the biggest challenges. I handle most of the tracking and am present at almost every recording session except bass tracking. Add mixing the album to that – while also working full time – and it becomes a balancing act.”
Atmosphere is crucial in Doom – but how do you balance the visual element (cover art, logos, stage presence) against the raw power of sound?
Are they equal tools, or secondary to the music?
“Everything is important – it’s all part of the artistic process. We’ve worked with incredible artists to create our visual world, and our sound is carefully constructed to be massive live.”
“People often tell us, ‘You sound like five people on stage – where’s the rest of the band?’ That’s because Daniel hits like two drummers, Max plays like a second guitarist and bassist at the same time, and we all push beyond just our instruments.”
If Doomherre were not a band but a place – a landscape – what would that landscape look like?
Is it a forest, a ruin, a frozen shoreline, or something far less earthly?
“There’s a castle ruin in Scotland called Dunnottar. That place inspired the lyrics for ‘This Burning Guilt’. I’d love to visit it someday.”
Doom is often associated with despair, loss, and decay – but do you see beauty, release, or even hope within darkness?
Or should Doom remain merciless by nature?
“Doom actually covers a wide emotional range. Pentagram, for example, has a lot of variety in their lyrics. Darkness can be beautiful, but because Doom carries so much emotional weight, it can also challenge the listener. Sometimes it’s wise to take a break.”
Songs like ‘This Burning Guilt‘ evoke themes of failure and inner demons.
Do you see Doom Metal as catharsis – for musicians, for listeners – or more as confrontation without escape?
“We write songs with the hope that others will feel what we feel when playing them. If a song doesn’t move us, we scrap it. That’s our standard.”
“The lyrics are often inspired by art or images I’ve seen. I connect those visuals to storytelling. Music is very visual to me – I try to conjure cinematic scenes and situations through the lyrics.”
Imagine looking back five years from now – how would you want Doomherre to have evolved sonically, visually, and emotionally?
“We’ve found our sound and the kind of music we want to make. Better production is always a goal – and having someone on stage in a Bonegoat costume, Iron Maiden-style, would be amazing. A full concept album that’s 100% Bonegoat saga is something we definitely want to do.”
If you had to introduce your music to someone who has never heard Doom before – which Doomherre track would you choose, and what would you tell them right before the first note hits?
“’Bonegoat’. It really sets the mood.”
Doomherre don’t treat Doom metal as a relic or a genre box to tick.
For them, it’s a landscape – one shaped by ruins, stories, and emotional gravity.
Whether through mythic horror, personal exhaustion, or sheer sonic force, their music invites listeners into a space that is oppressive, immersive, and strangely alive.
‘Serpent Shrine‘ stands not just as a song or a title, but as an entry point into that world – a place where decay breathes, darkness resonates, and Doom remains as heavy in meaning as it is in sound.
by Fok ‘bs’

“The challenge lies in condensing storylines that can take over 100 hours to play into a few minutes of music.”

“Not everything always has to be black and white – there are shades of grey, even in power metal.”

“The music always comes first. The story is just context if you want to look for it.”

“A balance between power metal, heavier elements, and orchestral parts is what makes us stand out.”

“We form a bridge between Ensiferum’s heaviness and Freedom Call’s joyful power metal.”

“We never really tried to avoid nostalgia – we grew up with that sound, and we embrace it.”

“Whenever I listen to music, I automatically see images. Translating that into artwork feels natural.”

“Perseverance defines us. We’ve made it this far against all odds.”

“If you can connect things into a bigger picture in hindsight – why not?”

With their new single ‘Shadow and Flame‘, Austrian power metal veterans Dragony close a conceptual trilogy inspired by the dark fantasy worlds of FromSoftware.
What began as a fascination with ‘Dark Souls‘ and ‘Bloodborne‘ now reaches its conclusion in ‘Elden Ring‘ territory – not as a rigid concept exercise, but as a natural extension of the band’s musical instincts.
Rather than chasing trends or reinventing themselves for the sake of novelty, Dragony continue to refine a sound rooted in late-’90s and early-2000s power metal, expanded through cinematic production, visual storytelling, and a steadily evolving lineup.
As the band approach their 20th anniversary, perseverance – both thematic and real-world – has become a defining trait.
We spoke with the ‘Dragonslayer‘ Siegfried Samer about translating sprawling game universes into songs, embracing ambiguity in power metal, and why longevity sometimes matters more than grand plans.
‘Shadow and Flame‘ completes a trilogy of FromSoftware-inspired songs.
Looking back, what did this journey teach you about translating interactive worlds into linear music?
“I think the interesting part and challenge lies in condensing sometimes very long storylines in games that can take over 100 hours to play into a few minutes’ long song. But since I’m a huge fan of these games, I found that always very enjoyable.”
Power metal often leans toward clear heroes and villains.
How do you approach moral ambiguity when drawing inspiration from darker fantasy universes like ‘Elden Ring‘?
“I think that’s intriguing about these games, that most of the villains have sad backstories, so defeating them is always a bit bittersweet. I think that works well in a musical context, even in Power Metal – that not everything always has to be black and white, but that there are shades of grey.”
This single feels both epic and restrained.
How important is contrast – between light and shadow, melody and heaviness – in Dragony’s songwriting today?
“I believe we have evolved our songwriting considerably over the years, which has much to do with the changes in our lineup on the one hand side and with including our producer Frank Pitters more and more into the whole songwriting and production process. Everyone brings different elements to the table, and our sound today is basically the amalgamation of all these elements. A balance between the Power Metal, heavier aspects and the more flamboyant orchestral parts is what makes us stand out in the genre, I think.”
You’ve worked extensively with layered narratives in recent years.
Do you see yourselves primarily as storytellers, or as musicians who use stories as texture?
“Definitely the latter. The music comes first, and whatever I use as inspiration or background for the lyrics, is really just that – a bit of context for the music to add some additional meaning if you are looking for it.”
With an expanded vocal spectrum now at your disposal, how has your perception of what a ‘Dragony song‘ can be changed or challenged?
“This we will see more clearly in the future when we write more songs with Maria in mind as an additional vocalist. ‘Shadow and Flame’ was a first effort in that direction, but originally not planned with so many vocalists in mind – that just sort of happened. In future songs, I guess we will explore those options more deeply.”
Your music often sits at the crossroads of classic power metal and modern cinematic production.
How do you avoid nostalgia becoming limitation?
“We never tried to avoid that, haha. From the start, we’ve always said that we wanted to make music reminiscent of the Power Metal of the late 90s and early 2000s, which I grew up with. Over the years the songwriting has of course changed a bit and adopted other influences which naturally happens when you listen to a lot of different contemporary stuff… but at the end of the day we don’t really think too much about that, but just want to write music that we enjoy playing and that our listeners hopefully like as well.”
From artwork to orchestration, Dragony place strong emphasis on visual imagination.
At what point does an image become a song – or a song become an image?
“It works quite naturally for me, as whenever I’m listening to a song (not just Dragony), I automatically get visual images in my mind. So I guess when I’m the one creating the song as well, I have those images and those can then be translated into artworks or background stories for the respective songs quite well.”
Front-loaded concepts can sometimes overshadow emotional connection.
How do you ensure that listeners still feel something personal beneath the epic layers?
“I think this happens through the stories that we tell in our songs, as that’s the essential purpose of storytelling as it has been throughout mankind’s history – you tell stories so that the listeners might learn something from them and apply it to their own lives. I think it works much the same with music – it leaves a lot of room for interpretation, and people can take from it whatever element or idea works for them.”
The FromSoftware worlds are defined by struggle, decay, and perseverance.
Which of those themes resonates most strongly with Dragony as a band right now?
“Definitely perseverance. In 2027, the band will turn 20 years old – and I guess we’ve made it this far pretty much against all odds. We started out as a band of humble younglings who didn’t have much grasp of songwriting, music production or live performances, but gradually grew as musicians and performers, and even through difficult times like the Covid19-pandemic managed to keep the band going, even though it was always only as a passion project and never on a ‘full-time job’ level. So I think this perseverance against all odds is what defines us.”
Touring with bands like Ensiferum and Freedom Call brings very different shades of metal together.
What do you think Dragony represent within that broader power-metal ecosystem?
“I think we form the bridge between the epic but heavier and more Melodeath- and Folk Metal inspired music of Ensiferum and the super-happy Power Metal of Freedom Call, as we incorporate elements of all these styles into our songs at one point or another, especially now with Maria who is also contributing some extreme vocals now to several songs. It’s an interesting mix to be sure, but should be quite a unique experience for the live crowd!”
Do you consciously think in ‘chapters‘ and ‘arcs’ when releasing music – or does that structure only become clear in hindsight?
“Not really. We just do what we feel up to, and if in retrospective you can tie it to a common whole… then why not? Haha!”
If ‘Shadow and Flame‘ were stripped of its references and imagery, what core idea or emotion would still define it?
“I mean the music would stay the same, so it would still be an epic, melodic Power Metal song – but whatever alternative lyrics would be then included would I suppose recontextualize the song, don’t you think?”
Now that this trilogy is complete:
does Dragony feel more inclined to build new worlds – or to break away from worlds entirely and write from a different place?
“We’ve actually not thought about that too much yet, we’ll see what the future brings after our big European tour with Ensiferum and Freedom Call!”
As ‘Shadow and Flame’ brings Dragony’s FromSoftware-inspired chapter to a close, the band appear less concerned with what comes next than with staying true to what brought them here.
Their approach remains instinctive rather than calculated – rooted in a love for classic power metal, shaped by collaboration, and carried forward by persistence rather than pressure.
With a major European tour ahead and two decades of band history on the horizon, Dragony continue to prove that longevity in metal isn’t about chasing reinvention, but about knowing when to evolve – and when to simply keep going.
by Fok ‘bs’

“Destruction and rebirth are the engine of evolution.”

“Changing one event might only replace a known horror with an unknown one.”

“The Doomed Cycles world is our real world – just seen without filters.”

“Our music is a lens that forces people to see extreme realities up close.”

“Every myth carries a lesson.”

“Truth is revealed when structures fall.”

“Collapse is the end of an illusion.”

“There is a brutal and honest aesthetic in chaos.”

“Metal refuses to be background music.”

“Our art is the culmination of all our life experiences.”

In an era where shock has lost its impact and collapse has become a daily headline, Cult of Alcaeus approach metal not as provocation, but as revelation.
With their conceptual trilogy ‘Doomed Cycles‘, the Portuguese band strips away illusion to expose a world caught in an eternal loop of destruction and rebirth – not as fantasy, but as reality seen without filters.
In this interview, vocalist Ares Baal reflects on myth-making, philosophical decay, the beauty hidden in chaos, and why metal still matters in a desensitized world.
What emerges is not a manifesto, but a challenge:
if the cycle is inevitable, what will you do once you truly see it?
‘Doomed Cycles‘ frames humanity in a loop of destruction and rebirth.
If you could rewrite history with one break in that cycle – what moment or decision would you change, and why?
“First of all, thank you for inviting us to this conversation! It is an excellent and complex question to start with!
The truth is, there are countless moments I would be tempted to rewrite… The rise of a tyrant, the fall of an empire, or a disastrous technological decision. But I believe both destruction and rebirth are necessary. Changing one event might just exchange a known horror for an unknown one. There is no guarantee that the new cycle would be better. So, I would not change anything. The cycles, however painful they may be, are essential. They are the engine of evolution, the only force that truly cleanses the decay to allow something new to emerge. I accept the cycle.”
You explore heavy existential themes – but offstage, what genuinely inspires you?
Literature, film, philosophy, real-life experiences?
“What genuinely inspires me is Art. Music, obviously, but also cinema and literature, which are great forms of storytelling. Then I also have my life experiences, like traveling and seeing how the world works in other places. But what I think inspires me the most is people. The way they interact, their stories, their struggles, their obsessions, their failures, their resilience… These are the things that make my brain work and give me a lot of inspiration.”
Your music – and especially the ‘Doomed Cycles‘ concept – seems to have philosophical underpinnings.
Do you view your art as social critique, personal catharsis, prophecy, or something else entirely?
“Fundamentally, what I really enjoy is telling stories. People can interpret them as social critique or catharsis, and those messages may in fact be there. What is real can blend with what is fiction. But for me, the priority is the narrative. It’s the art of taking an idea and turning it into an intense story.”
When writing the trilogy, did you feel like you were constructing a myth or a warning?
And if the latter – warning to whom:
to society, to individuals, to a future generation?
“The main focus is always the narrative, so I feel I was primarily constructing a myth. However, every myth carries a lesson, so the trilogy ends up functioning as a warning. But it’s a warning focused more on the individual. I’m not interested in warning society, which often chooses not to see. The warning is a challenge to those who are already aware. Knowing that the cycle is inevitable, what do you do with that information?”
If ‘Doomed Cycles‘ were not just a concept but a world – what would that world look like?
A ruined cityscape, a broken civilization, a psychological hellscape – or something stranger?
“The ‘Doomed Cycles’ world is our real world, but seen without filters. All those ideas of ruined cityscapes, broken civilizations, or psychological hellscapes are real things. They are happening right now, somewhere on the planet. But for most of us, they seem distant. I believe our explosive, chaotic, and intense music is a lens that forces us to see the world’s most extreme realities up close.”
Looking ahead:
If you could complete a second trilogy after ‘Doomed Cycles‘ – what would it be about?
Rebirth? Resistance? Salvation? Despair?
What message would you want to leave behind?
“The ideas are always emerging, but our music stems from what we feel intensely in the moment. We don’t force themes. The next trilogy will be built on the pure emotion that dominates us at the time of creation.”
Your music carries a distinctly Portuguese atmosphere – even without overt cultural markers.
Do you believe your country’s history (empire, tragedy, fado-melancholy, revolution) subconsciously shapes your sound?
“Yes, in part it is inevitable. The art we make is the culmination of all our life experiences, and the history and culture of Portugal are what is closest to us. The country carries the weight of a certain historical melancholy, ‘saudade’, or the feeling of tragedy and lost glory. We don’t use obvious cultural markers, but that atmosphere and feeling also can end up being present in our sound, even if subconsciously.”
Metal scenes differ drastically from country to country.
What defines the Portuguese metal community in your eyes – and what do you wish the world understood about it?
“I actually partially disagree with that statement. There are many subcultures that vary vastly from country to country, but the Metal scene actually seems quite similar everywhere, which is great! I love visiting another country, discovering an underground bar, going to shows, and immediately feeling at home. It’s like visiting family abroad. The community and passion are the same, Metal seems universal! At least in European countries, which is where I travel more often.”
When performing live, do you aim to bring listeners into the world of ‘Doomed Cycles‘ – or to bring the themes of ‘Doomed Cycles‘ out into the real world?
“We just want to put on a great show and transmit our message with the most energy we can!”
Has there been a moment on stage when you felt your music changed the energy of a room – not just entertained, but transformed it?
What happened?
“Yes, and it’s always a phenomenal experience! It happens when we and the audience enter into synchronicity. It’s a moment when we feel we have managed to transmit our message and that the audience is willing to really listen to us and feel what we are playing. That moment of profound connection is the culmination of all our work and the main reason why we step onto a stage.”
Writing concept-driven music requires discipline.
Do you write from a rigid framework first – or do the concepts emerge after the music takes shape?
“As I said before, we are very much driven by feeling. We don’t work from a rigid framework. What we feel at the moment of creation is what comes out, and that includes the concepts. Things always end up connecting organically because the feeling is genuine.”
Metal often deals with extremity – violence, collapse, despair – but there’s also beauty in chaos.
Do you believe there is an aesthetic – or even a form of truth – in collapse and decay?
“Yeah I agree, otherwise Metal would become hollow and lose a great part of its interest. Truth is revealed when structures fall. Collapse and decay are the end of an illusion. There is a brutal and honest aesthetic in chaos, because it is real. It is the purest way to expose the fragility of everything we build.”
Finally:
Do you think metal still has the power to provoke – not just offend, but genuinely challenge ways of thinking – in a world that has become desensitized to shock?
“Yes, ideally that’s what happens. Metal is already a mature genre that doesn’t try so much to offend, but rather to convey real and profound themes. In a world where shock barely works anymore, Metal provokes through its pure intensity and its demand. It demands that we stop, and listen to the complexity and the violence of the sound. That brutal honesty and the refusal to be background music is what truly challenges people’s way of thinking.
Thank you once more for the opportunity and the excellent questions! Stay Heavy!”
Rather than offering salvation or easy answers, Cult of Alcaeus embrace inevitability.
Their music does not promise escape from the cycle – it demands awareness within it.
‘Doomed Cycles‘ stands as both myth and mirror, forcing listeners to confront collapse not as an abstract concept, but as a fundamental truth of existence.
In the end, Cult of Alcaeus are not interested in warning the blind, nor comforting the fearful.
Their art is aimed at those already listening – those willing to face chaos, accept decay, and find meaning not beyond collapse, but inside it.
Fok ‘bs’

“It felt like creation had manifested itself so clearly.”

“I was shaking with pure creative energy – like I’d been struck by lightning.”

“All the words, the melody – everything just came out.”

“We knew changing anything would destroy the magic.”

“If it’s right, it will come through.”

“When we finish ‘June’, I just have the biggest smile.”

“I found myself within this music – and that is life-changing.”

“You can’t force creativity. If you do, it feels hollow.”

“Momentum and energy are everything.”

“Our originality is what defines us.”

With momentum from the worldwide success of ‘Break On‘, Daytura now unveil their most instinctive work yet:
‘June‘ – a single that wasn’t written but emerged fully formed in a spontaneous burst of inspiration.
It’s classic rock at its most alive:
unfiltered, intuitive, and emotionally resonant.
We sat down with Sam Britton singer, front-woman of Daytura to talk about lightning-strike creativity, the magic of capturing a moment, and how their journey from festival stages to Salvation Studio continues to shape their identity as one of the UK’s most compelling new rock bands.
‘June’ arrived in one spontaneous moment.
What did that moment feel like from the inside – calm clarity, chaos, or something indescribable?
“I have the voice note!! I was working out some lyrics to something else and just recording the rest of the band jamming, they stop and I say ‘there’s some really good bits in there’ but that was a serious understatement! Whilst they were playing the riff came through at minute 2:43 and I wrote it in my notes because i knew there was something bigger then anything we had written before like a palpable energy coming through! I knew I had heard something very exciting and I wanted to do it justice because I felt like creation had manifested itself so clearly. The next morning I looped the Jam twice and set it up to play through my laptop and I would sing into my phone. I started to sing and it just came out – all the words, the melody everything! I laughed at the end because I have never found phrasing so easy and partly because I was in shock! I was supposed to be getting ready for work so I left literally after recording it once and played it back over and over on my drive. I was shaking with pure creative energy, it felt like I had been struck by lightning and sent it to the drummer to see what he thought! He loved it so the rest was worked out back in another rehearsal session and that was it!!”
You kept the melody and lyrics exactly as they emerged during the jam.
Was there any temptation to polish them afterward, or did you immediately sense the fragility of the moment?
“Yes! Completely, it was like we had been given this gift and to try and change it would destroy it. We rehearsed the song a few times with spralling 4 minute long instrumental prog sections, which was interesting but it felt right as the version that it is now! The only thing we did add in was a Hammond organ and Lesley speaker, we all felt it needed it and I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to play it when we recorded it!”
‘Break On‘ achieved global airplay.
How did that unexpected success shift the emotional atmosphere within the band before ‘June‘ was even conceived?
“‘Break On’ has always been our intro song, we recorded it at the same time as ‘June’ along with 2 others and we all felt that they were a part of an EP amd showcased our diversity. They were all recorded back in June (haha) and we have been working through them all to get them mastered and released. We were going to wait to release it with the others but it felt too special so we filmed a music video in a church and really pulled out all the stops (video to be released in the next couple of weeks) :)”
Some musicians chase inspiration;
others try to engineer it.
After capturing ‘June‘, how has your understanding of creativity changed?
“Since we recorded the songs we’ve all been doing shows and rehearsals for the shows which has been great to get out because that’s what we love the most – connecting with people in real life. But we had a writing session a couple of months ago where I came in with a couple of rough ideas and we kind of sketched them out. What I think we have realised is if it’s right it will come through and some really awesome things have done! I have a much more open mind to how songs form and really just letting them happen has seemed the most productive and enjoyable. A little tangent can change the whole feel of something and there’s definitely ones that don’t flow and I have learnt just to let them go because I’ll most likely borrow something from them later on!”
If you could isolate one second of the ‘June‘ recording that captures the band’s pure chemistry, which moment would it be – and why?
“I think it’s the end outro! We all get to shine in this song, be it the vocals, guitar solo, bass solo, percussion. The end just feels like we’ve all been to the end and back and reemerged triumphant and when we play it live I just have the biggest smile when we finish playing it!”
You’ve played major festivals and supported rising UK bands.
Which live experience directly influenced the emotional tone you brought into the session where ‘June‘ was born?
“Ironically this song was really beating to the sound of its own drum! The other songs on the EP definitely has some references in them but this one was its own thing. We all spoke at length about what would be commercial etc. and despite the current music climate I didn’t really want to do that. And I figured we love it so do it anyway, do it for us.”
Both ‘Break On‘ and ‘June‘ showcase huge vocal presence, but in completely different ways.
What emotional ‘gear‘ does each song activate for you as the singer?
“I’m really influenced by blues and soul, I love rock and metal but I have different ranges and tones I want to play with! For me ‘Break On’ is more desperate, it conveys a harsh reality which I feel in the lyrics. It is the first song on our set and I want it to kick off with a bang so I feel like that’s the energy it carries! ‘June’ is very much bravado, I revelled in the vocal runs and power of the chorus. I feel bold and confident, it’s definitely a different flex but within the context of all our music it makes it fun!”
Phill Brown has worked on legendary recordings.
What was the most surprising or unconventional piece of advice he gave you while shaping your new material?
“We did the whole EP as a live session which was such a joy. Phill was passionate about keeping the room feeling alive and not losing the energy of the songs and being true and authentic to our sound. He was very laid back and gave direction with mic’ing up everything and not complicating things and keeping it flowing! I wasn’t sure about getting the Hammond and Leslie out as we were coming to the end of our session – it’s huge and takes a little while to warm up but he encouraged me to do it and I’m so glad he did! Phill was really keen on keeping my voice exactly how it is and staying true and authentic to it, which surprisingly I don’t get that often. A lot of the time with other projects or sometimes external mixing people change my voice and it gets compressed, brightened, squeaky. I felt fully supported by his production – which when you are recoding your own music for your own project is the most important thing.”
If ‘Break On‘ represents the band’s momentum, what does ‘June‘ represent – vulnerability, trust, instinct, or something else entirely?
“‘June’ is its own beast entirely! 😅 it feels passionate, instinctual. It’s quite hard to put into words but it conveys the story of love and lust which I feel is a conventional topic for a rock song but from my perspective and voice it feels unique.”
Your sound carries echoes of Led Zeppelin and Heart, yet ‘June‘ feels uniquely yours.
What subtle detail in the track do you think most defines Daytura today?
“I think the cohesiveness of the track marries together all of our voices (instrumentally & vocally) it has all of our input, all of our ideas expressed together in a flow state and I think that it’s set the bar for what we can achieve. Sonically it’s defined as a blues rock song and yes it includes those themes but it’s unique to us and our originality is what defines us.”
Festival audiences can be unpredictable.
Did any specific crowd reaction from Teddy Rocks, VDub Fest, or other shows influence how fearlessly you approached recording ‘June‘?
“Actually all the crowds we perform influence how we feel about songs we perform or want to record. Quite often the crowd feels completely differently to how I might feel about a song. But it became more and more obvious as a new band that momentum and energy is everything. To a new audience that don’t know any of our songs all that matters is the vibe and that people are having fun. The show is one thing and ‘June’ is a another thing but both can exist in the same space! It was recorded because we love it not the other way around. It’s actually one of the slower songs we have in our set list but if we can’t keep the train rolling at least we have made something true to ourselves!”
‘June‘ is the sound of capturing lightning.
What’s the closest you’ve come to losing a great musical moment – and what did that teach you?
“Actually this happens all the time. I write most days and I might have a phase or melody that is great but it doesn’t fit, I can’t make it work with anything. When I first started writing I would spend hours on the ‘phrase’ and it would be soul destroying. But I have learnt to let it go. Be critical and acknowledge that yeah this is good but the rest isn’t. Leave it there. let it go and move on. Most of the time it comes back in a different form, sometimes years on and better then before. I’m not really sure what instigates creativity or inspiration but I know now that you can’t force it, if you do it feels hollow.”
If someone were to listen to ‘Break On‘ and ‘June‘ back-to-back for the first time, what story do you hope those two songs tell about who Daytura are becoming?
“I would love people to hear how passionate we all are about music and how joyous it is to be creative. I found myself within this music and that is a life changing shift – I want that for everyone. I hope it is the prelude to something greater then us, something authentic and meaningful that can inspire change and lift the soul.”
With ‘June‘, Daytura prove that great rock music doesn’t always come from planning – sometimes it comes from surrendering to the moment.
As the band continues to evolve, their instinctive creativity, onstage fire and growing international recognition signal a trajectory that’s only gaining height.
If ‘Break On‘ opened the door, ‘June‘ shows us what happens when Daytura step through it with pure, unfiltered inspiration.
Fok ‘bs’

“No Murder No Moustache has always been about highlighting injustice and tragedy while still drawing inspiration from absurdity – Welsh folklore has both in terrifying amounts.”

“The album lives in the same space as those old stories – where horror and humour sit uncomfortably close together.”

“Balancing Celtic storytelling with punk chaos is always a gamble – sometimes the pipes take over, sometimes the riffs win, and that’s part of the thrill.”

“Being a solo artist means I never have to choose between the punk or the Celtic – I just follow the story and hope the chaos behaves.”

“Song order is still a creative act – it’s how you consolidate emotions and messages. Some tracks didn’t make the cut simply because they didn’t help tell the story.”

“’A Demon in the Dark’ smells of wet forest mud and feels like travelling home in a wooden ship through a storm in the dead of night.”

“The darkest ideas make the sharpest jokes – sometimes you have to laugh at the world just to keep from screaming.”

“I once turned political scandal and racial violence into punchlines; humour can be a scalpel for scars that never healed.”

“I had to hold back the anger – shouting is easy, storytelling isn’t.”

“If the future belongs to the far right and mega-capitalism, maybe this album proves someone cared – or maybe it just proves we were still making plastic CDs when the planet was burning.”

“If No Murder No Moustache were a mythic character, it would be the one who drank too much Guinness, forgot to close the floodgates, and drowned the kingdom.”

Welsh Celtic Punk has always been a place where stories, anger, and laughter collide – and few acts embody that spirit as vividly as No Murder No Moustache.
With a new single on the horizon and an ambitious new album coming in early 2026, the project stands at a turning point.
The sound is bigger, the emotions sharper, and the songwriting both more personal and more political.
We sat down with the mind behind the music to explore the stories, struggles, and strange inspirations fueling ‘As Everything Else Decays‘.
If the new album ‘As Everything Else Decays‘ were a piece of Welsh folklore, what kind of tale would it be – heroic, tragic, mischievous, or something far stranger?
“Great question, I’m going to choose a small part of the story of the king Math fab Mathonwy (info here) particularly the part about how the king’s nephews conspire to send him to war so they can r*pe his foot holder while he is away (Math must keep his feet in the lap of a virgin when he isn’t at war or he will die). As punishment, Math turns both of the nephews into a range of animals for 3 years with the requirement that they must mate with each other and produce an offspring before they can be turned back. That’s quite an intense story to open an interview, but the reason I’ve chosen it is that No Murder No Moustache has always been about highlighting injustice, tragedy, and some of the most terrible aspects of the human experience, whilst also drawing inspiration from absurdity. This story definitely has both of these in.”
Your music blends Celtic tradition with punk energy.
Which side is harder to control – the emotional storytelling or the chaotic punk instinct?
“It’s absolutely a fine balance and difficult to control both sides at times. Some tracks like ‘Dic Penderyn’ from the new album, or ‘A Trace Of Blood And Tears’ from the last album take the Celtic instrumentation a bit further, with some quite long (for a punk song anyway) instrumental parts, building off each other. Other’s such as ‘One More Round’ and Second Chance were a struggle to get any Celtic bits in at all. Being a solo artist though, I don’t have to worry too much as there aren’t other bands members to consider so no one will be left out of anything if the song goes more punk or more celtic. I like to bring the chaotic side into the live shows though.”
What moment in the writing process made you realize the album needed to exist, not just as songs but as a full narrative or emotional arc?
“Growing up in the 90s, listening to albums start to finish was how I listened to music so I always wanted to make sure it kind of flowed properly. It’s not the same now with streaming, but I still see song choice, and song order on an album as a creative activity and an opportunity to consolidate messages and emotions across songs. There were 2 songs that didn’t make it onto the album for that reason alone, they just didn’t add anything to it.”
If the upcoming single had a scent, a texture, and a weather condition attached to it, what would they be?
“‘A Demon In The Dark’ to me feels like the wet muddy forest where I filmed the music video in a torrential rainstorm. Everything was soaked, the cameras were in plastic bags to protect them, lots of the video effects have come from drops of water on a lens, and the smell of damp stayed in my car for a week. In terms of lyrics, it’s about travelling back to your homeland, and in my mind it’s travelling in a wooden ship, in the pouring rain in the dead of night.”
Celtic Punk is known for mixing humour with heavy themes.
What’s the darkest idea you’ve ever wrapped in a joke – or the funniest idea you’ve ever turned into something heartbreaking?
“On this album, there’s definitely some darkness, but in terms of turning it around into humour, it’s a choice between ‘Tested On Animals’ (about an ex-UK prime minister and a pig) which potentially contains the funniest lyrics I’ve ever written in ‘I’ve got an itch, that needs a pork scratching’, or the bonus track ‘Grey Tracksuit’, which is about race riots in 2024 where one of the racists got ‘Hit in the dick with a brick’ (look it up on youtube).”
What’s a traditional Welsh instrument, phrase, or cultural reference you’ve always wanted to use in your music but haven’t yet – and why?
“In Welsh there is a word ‘Hiraeth’ which doesn’t really have an English equivalent, but it kind of means longing, or homesickness tinged with grief and sadness over the lost or departed, especially in the context of Wales and Welsh culture. It is a mixture of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness or an earnest desire for the Wales of the past (which may no longer exist or never existed anyway). I’ve always liked the idea of using this as a concept and as a Welsh speaker, I feel that I can use it appropriately in a song, but it’s become so popularised as a term in Wales, especially in music scenes, that in some ways, it doesn’t have the same meaning to me as it used to.”
Imagine someone hearing your music for the first time at the worst possible moment.
What misunderstanding about your sound would you fear most?
“Some of my songs are written in the first person, so occasionally I will sing in the role of someone that I am making a parody of. If you played one of those tracks at the wrong moment, you’d catch me singing something awful that is building up to the parody but hasn’t got there yet and that might put me very out of context. There’s a track that I’ve stopped playing live because of this exact reason.”
Your lyrics often walk the line between anger and reflection.
What’s an emotion you consciously pushed against while making this album?
“I’ve definitely had to hold back on the anger in lots of ways when putting this album together. It would be really easy to just go heavy on each song, shout about things, and simplify them into a repeatable 3 word chorus. I love songs like that, but they aren’t really my sort of style and there’s a lot of people doing them a lot better than I could too. I have to push myself away from doing that in order to find the right storytelling method and flow for the songs, bringing in a bit of shoutyness just where it has the most impact, but still maintaining what I like to think of as informed lyrics.”
What real-life event – big or small – unexpectedly shaped one of the new songs in a way even you didn’t see coming?
“I’ve already mentioned the prime minister and the pig, and the racist getting hit with a brick, so I’ll skip those for this one. When I was writing ‘Sending The Soldiers In’, I was researching a range of times when governments sent a disproportionate military/police response against civilian protest. One of the events I found was in a place called Llanelli in South West Wales which is a place I’m familiar with, where in 1911 the army shot 2 protesters. It’s barely spoken about in the same way as similar events in other towns so it was a real surprise for me to read about it.”
If you could collaborate with any non-punk musician to add an unusual flavour to your sound, who would it be and what role would they play?
“An impossible one unfortunately, but I’d love to incorporate more non-male vocals on some of the tracks. Immediate I’m thinking of Sinéad O’Connor to give an absolutely haunting vocal crossover line in a couple of the anti-war tracks. (Look up on youtube of Sinéad and the Chieftans in 1995 performing ‘The Foggy Dew’, it’s absolutely immense).”
How did your identity as a Welsh artist influence this record – deliberately, subconsciously, or even in resistance to certain expectations?
“Of course there’s some classic manifestations of Welsh stories on this album in songs like ‘Dic Penderyn’ and ‘Celtic Skies’. I usually include a Welsh Language track on all EP or Album size releases too, and despite writing one, it didn’t quite fit with the flow of the album, so there’s just a couple of Welsh words in Dic Penderyn instead. I would say less-consciously the influence of seeing the way that Welsh (and other Celtic nations) have historically been treated is what gives me the need to tell these stories, and write about injustices of other types too.”
If the new album were a physical artifact found centuries from now, what would archaeologists think it reveals about our current era?
“Let’s sadly assume that mega-capitalism and the far right win the culture war and that’s what the history books show. In that case I’d like to say that it would help to reveal that there were people who cared about other people, were anti-war, and could see through the charade of media bias and right-wing press. That’s probably a bit egotistical of me though. More likely it would reveal that we still wasted plastic and precious metals producing CDs when we should have been saving the planet.”
Your project name is famously unique.
If No Murder No Moustache were a character in a Celtic myth, what would its personality be – and what would be its fatal flaw?
“There’s a story of a place called Cantre’r Gwaelod, in which a wealthy kingdom drowns under the sea due to the man who controlled the flood gates to the city having too much of a party and forgetting to close them. (It reminds me of the song ‘White Pearl Black Oceans’ by Sonata Arctica too which is one of my favourite metal bands). Anyway, I can definitely see No Murder No Moustache drinking ‘Six Pints Of Guinness’ and forgetting to close the flood gates.”
With ‘As Everything Else Decays’, No Murder No Moustache steps into a new chapter:
one where the Celtic Punk roots sink deeper, the emotional weight grows heavier, and the songwriting reaches new levels of grit and honesty.
The December single is only the beginning of a story that promises both catharsis and chaos – a reminder that even as everything else decays, music remains a force worth holding on to.
Fok ‘bs’

“The album is red – and hot enough to melt steel.”

“’Thrashin’ Beer’ didn’t fit us at first, but it turned out perfect.”

“Past, present, and future – that’s the force driving us.”

“This isn’t a comeback. We already did that three years ago.”

“No one influences us. We aim to create something with its own identity.”

“Don’t rush – you have more time than you think.”

The legendary Greek thrashers FLAMES return to the forefront with a brand-new album, ‘Frequency Of Illusion’, that awakens memories of the golden age of Greek metal while firmly looking toward the future.
Armed with endless energy and decades of experience, the band presents a record that serves both as a tribute to their past and a starting point for a new era.
In this interview, FLAMES speak openly about their evolution, and what it means to carry the history of an entire scene on their shoulders.
Your new album is being released after a long creative break.
What was the moment or reason that made you realize that now is the right time to create a new record?
“Three years isn’t really that long since the previous one, if you consider that we hadn’t released an album for 26 years before ‘Resurgence’. The reason is always the same: having something different to present.”
If you had to describe the new album with a smell, a color, and a temperature, what would they be and why?
“Red color and a temperature that melts steel…”
Which elements or ideas from the ’80s and ’90s – those you embodied back then – did you absolutely want to keep on this album, and which ones did you consciously leave behind?
“No one really thought about something like that. We simply play the way it naturally comes out and satisfies us. We have elements from the past but also new ones… but nothing is deliberate.”
How does it feel to return after so many years and see a scene where retro-thrash, modern thrash, and extreme metal all coexist?
“We existed before terms like ‘extreme’, ‘modern’, etc. even appeared… For us, it continues to be just metal. Whatever anyone likes is perfectly fine.”
Was there a song during the production that took a completely different direction from what you originally imagined?
“‘Thrashin’ Beer’. I think in the beginning it didn’t really suit us, but in the end it turned out perfect…”
Greece has a long history, mythology, political turbulence, and a strong cultural identity.
What typical Greek elements – conscious or unconscious – find their way into your music?
“Hmm… we don’t really have many Greek elements in our music. Unconsciously, we used a 9/8 rhythm somewhere in one track, but not on purpose.”
If you could send a creative or personal warning to your younger selves from the early FLAMES era, what would it be?
“Don’t rush, because you have plenty of time ahead of you…”
After so many years in the scene, what is emotionally more difficult for you:
releasing a comeback album or entering the studio as newcomers?
“There’s nothing to discuss here… there is no difficulty. We pour our soul into it and we’re fully present. Our mindset isn’t different from the old days. And this is not a comeback… we already did that three years ago.”
Which band or artist inspired you during this phase of your career, even though you didn’t expect it?
“No one influences us… our effort is to create something with its own identity.”
How has the dynamic within the band changed – musically and personally – from your early years until today?
“Musically, we’re better technically… and on a personal level, our bond with each other has grown stronger.”
Imagine you had to choose three words that describe the driving force of FLAMES today.
Which would they be?
“Past, present, and future…”
What misunderstanding about the band would you like to clear up once and for all?
“I don’t know if there is a misunderstanding surrounding the band, but if there is, we’re here…”
If you had to describe the new album as a film genre, which would it be?
And which scene would ideally depict the opening track?
“A horror movie… someone being chased, but fighting back and winning…”
The return of FLAMES is not simply the revival of a historic name;
it is proof that a band with true vision, perseverance, and faith in its music can remain creatively alive for decades.
With their new album, FLAMES are not relying on their past – they are building upon it.
And if one thing becomes clear from this conversation, it’s that the new era of FLAMES has only just begun – and their flame burns hotter than ever…
Fok ‘bs’

“When we play ‘Rising’ live, I almost slip into a trance. It stops being a song and becomes a state of mind.”

“Our next album would be a vast, empty desert – no people, just space and truth.”

“The ultimate rock band is a trio: raw, direct, cut to the bone.”

“The next album would be a stoic, proud creature – speaking through fire and water.”

“Success for us now means playing many more gigs. That’s where the magic really happens.”

As Zeup are newly introduced on Radio Highway Pirate’s homepage, it’s an opportune moment to spotlight their journey.
Emerging from Copenhagen’s vibrant rock underground, this trio channels the energy of 70s heavy rock, the dirt of stoner grooves, and the raw honesty of grunge – all while preserving an analog, no-frills sound.
With ‘Mammals‘, they proved they can write heavy riffs and introspective songs.
Now, as they continue to carve out their identity, we dive into their creative process, inspirations, and what makes Zeup distinctly themselves.
Your name, Zeup (‘soup‘), feels playful yet enigmatic. If your band were a flavor of soup, what ingredients would it have – and what unexpected spice would define it?
“Chilies lots of chillies and ginger as secret spice.”
You’ve mentioned an ‘analogue-sounding‘ approach. What’s the most ‘imperfect‘ moment in your studio recordings that you’re secretly proud of, because it sounds more human?
“The fact that ‘Rising’, rises in tempo through the song is a perfect example.”
Stoner rock often evokes vast, open landscapes, but your music also has intimacy. If your next album were a physical space, would it be a canyon, a bunker, a cabin – or something else?
“Our next album would be a vast desert with no people.”
Which personal or societal fear did you confront when writing ‘Mammals‘, and how did it shape the mood of the songs?
“The fear that we overpopulate the planet.”
If you could invite any rock legend – living or dead – to a rehearsal, who would it be and what would you play for them?
“Neil Peart from Rush and i would play ‘Escape’ to him.”
You are a trio, a tight unit. How do you navigate the tensions between being ‘three‘ – creatively, personally, musically – especially when writing together?
“Being a trio brings less tension in my opinion. I think the ultimate rock band is a trio. Cut to the bone. I write all music and lyrics and we arrange together, which is easier when you are only three people.”
Which song of yours feels like a secret ritual: when you play it live, it unlocks something inside you (or the audience)? Describe that feeling.
“‘Rising’ is an example where I almost go into a trance.”
If you could strip away one genre that influences Zeup (say, stoner rock or grunge), how would your sound change – and would you want to make that album?
“If you strip away the stoner rock, we would be more punkish which would be fine but boring in the long run.”
What was the most surprising lesson you learned from recording ‘Mammals‘ in Sweet Silence Studios (a legendary place with rock history)?
“It was a surprise to us how easy and smooth the process was.”
If Zeup were to score a movie scene, what kind of scene would it be – a desert drive, an inner monologue, a showdown – and how would your music serve it?
“A long desert drive with no monologue.”
What’s a misconception people often have about stoner rock (or rock in general), and how do you intentionally challenge or embrace that in Zeup?
“People often think that its the same riff going on for hours, that is certainly not the case.”
After ‘Mammals‘, how do you define ‘success‘ for Zeup now? Is it touring, artistic growth, a particular sound – or something else entirely?
“We would like to play a lot more gigs, thats where the magic happens.”
Picture your next album as a living creature: What would its personality be like? Would it be stoic, wild, dreamy, or haunted – and how would it communicate with you?
“That creature would be stoic and proud and it would communicate through fire and water.”
Zeup is more than just a stoner rock band – they’re architects of groove and emotion, crafting songs that feel both heavy and heartfelt.
As they continue to evolve from their early demos and EPs toward a more mature identity, they prove that the spirit of rock doesn’t need polish – just passion, honesty, and a little bit of fuzz.
With their analog ethos and deep-rooted chemistry, Zeup is shaping a sound that’s as much about the journey as the destination.
fok ‘bs’

“’Venom Within’ is stunning on the surface but dangerous underneath – like the Amazon rainforest. That clash of light and darkness is the essence of humanity, and the core of our sound.”

“Recording this album was like a theater performance. Every vocal had to become a character: screams, thrash, high-pitched, low – more than 20 tracks per song. Chaos became identity.”

“Doubt isn’t weakness – it’s a tool. By questioning everything, we removed what we loved but sharpened what mattered most.”

“We started with a blank page. White. Anxiety-inducing. Slowly, the songs began to emerge, and that white became a landscape for ‘Venom Within’.”

“Giving up control wasn’t easy. Letting someone else shape promotion, artwork, and production opened the door to a sharper, more focused album.”

“A lonely night drive is the ideal way to experience ‘Venom Within’. No distractions, just the music breathing in your ears.”

“Every lyric on this album owes something to the darkness Stefánsson writes about – human nature revealed starkly, the perfect canvas for The Losts’ mythology.”

“’A Dark Place to Hide’ captured it all. That’s when we knew this was the album’s identity – its musical and vocal essence.”

“If ‘Venom Within’ were a character, it would be a quiet child, observing, learning, aware but hiding. Curious yet fully present.”

“Our music doesn’t just accompany – it guides. If it scored a TV series, it would explore inner turmoil and complex characters, inviting the audience into their unspoken worlds.”

With their third studio album ‘Venom Within‘, French heavy metal band The Losts dive deeper into darkness, mythology, and sonic experimentation.
Known for blending theatrical vocals, melodic intensity, and concept-driven narratives, the band has evolved into a force that challenges both themselves and their listeners.
We sat down with the members to explore the album’s creative process, emotional depth, and the world they’ve built within their music.
If your new album were a location on a map, what kind of place would it be – and what dangers or revelations would a traveler encounter there?
“‘Venom Within’ could be the hostile and vibrant Amazon rainforest. Beautiful on the surface and dangerous underneath. Venom is everywhere in this place: in the air, in the soil, in every choice you make. What is dangerous is also attractive and captivating.”
“A traveler would face both wonder and darkness. That clash between light and shadow is the essence of humanity … and the core of our sound.”
What element of your sound proved the most challenging to evolve on this third record – the melodies, the intensity, or the storytelling?
“I would say the vocals. We treated the sessions like a theater performance, switching constantly between characters: deep or high pitch voices, black metal screams, thrash attacks, even female vocals.”
“Phil Renalter, our producer, had to bring all these personalities together and had to manage more than 20 voice tracks per song. Mixing it was a war for him, but it shaped the album’s identity.”
When writing this album, what belief or habit from your earlier years did you deliberately decide to abandon?
“We let go of some of our freedom. This time, we accepted more direction from Phil. During the pre-production and production stages, he proposed many modifications of our initial creations, giving the songs a harsher, more cutting impact. We also stepped aside from the usual graphic design approach of DGC and let Alek Vladski create the entire booklet. And instead of self-releasing, we entrusted The Losts’ image and promotion to the label Inverse Records.”
“Giving up control was a choice, so we could deliver a more focused and professional album.”
Heavy metal thrives on emotion. Which emotion did you find yourselves unexpectedly embracing this time?
“Doubt.”
“By delegating promotion, artwork, and parts of the production, we stepped out of our comfort zone. We weren’t fully in control anymore, and that’s unsettling.”
“But doubt pushed us forward; it forced us to question everything and sharpen the record. We also had to get rid of some music parts that we loved, which could be frustrating, but for the better at the end.”
If a listener wanted to fully absorb the spirit of the album, what would be the ideal setting to experience it – a crowded venue, a lonely night drive, or something stranger?
“The ideal setting to experience the album would be somewhere quiet, where nothing gets in the way of the details of our music. ‘Venom Within’ demands several focused listens to truly uncover all the album’s subtleties.”
“A lonely night drive is perfect. No distractions, just the road, the dark, and the music breathing in your ears.”
What is the most unusual or non-musical source that influenced a song on this album – a book, a place, a conversation, a dream?
“The writing of the lyrics for this album happened in parallel with my reading of Jón Kalman Stefánsson’s masterpiece ‘Your Absence Is Darkness’. In its pages, there’s a line that struck me deeply: ‘You told me there was no better place than hell to learn how to write, for it is there that human nature reveals itself most starkly…'”
“Those words reaffirmed my desire to continue expanding the mythology of The Losts. In a way, every lyric on the album benefited from that reading experience.”
Some bands become heavier with time, others become more melodic. What ‘direction’ did this third album push you toward – and was it intentional?
“‘Venom Within’ further amplifies the shift that began with ‘Mystery of Depths’, our previous album, moving toward a sound that’s a little less heavy but more direct and darker. When we rehearse our older songs, we can now clearly feel the difference in the writing, the impact, and the atmosphere. It’s actually quite shocking for us, we all noticed it while preparing for the Release Party happening in two weeks.”
If you had to describe the album using only sensory impressions – a color, a smell, a texture – what would they be?
“I feel that ‘Venom Within’ is a white album, much like its artwork; a pure, immaculate white that gradually gives way to a multitude of grey and black details. This white also echoes the genesis of the composition: after ‘Mystery of Depths’ (2021), we had no material left. We were truly starting from a completely blank page… a slightly anxiety-inducing one. I can almost still hear it slipping under my fingers.”
“Then we began scribbling onto that white page, eventually shaping this new collection of songs. Perhaps that’s why ‘Venom Within’, while still unmistakably The Losts, has its own face, somewhat removed from our previous work.”
What was the moment during the recording process when you realized, ‘Yes, this is the identity of the new album’?
“I would say that moment emerged during pre-production, when we were recording the demos for the new tracks. For this album, we began composing all the instrumental parts first. The vocal lines, the voices, the lyrics came later, especially during that pre-production phase, where I took the time to carve out space for the full vocal spectrum.”
“I think it was after finishing ‘A Dark Place To Hide’ that I said to myself, ‘There it is. This is The Losts!’ At that moment, musically and vocally, we were holding the essence of everything the album would become. That’s also why we chose that song as the first single and as the album opener.”
Imagine THE LOSTS composing the soundtrack for a TV series. What enre would the show be, and what role would your music play in its atmosphere?
“That would be awesome! The concept of The Losts already provides a eady-made storyline 😉”
“The series would definitely need a psychological dimension, a perspective turned toward the inner turmoil of the soul. We would follow complex characters searching for elevation, sometimes against themselves, sometimes against their environment, caught in storms within and deep personal questioning. The music would invite the audience into the unspoken erceptions and inner worlds of the protagonists.”
What aspect of the French metal scene has had the greatest impact on your development – whether as inspiration or as a challenge to overcome?
“Unfortunately, one of the main challenges of the French metal scene is the lack of places to play. A lot of venues in France but also in Belgium have been closing for years. Ten years ago, the underground was alive with many bars and small stages. Now it’s a struggle to find a room for a show. You have either to pay the rent of the room or to be stuck on a long waiting list in the remaining places.”
“It’s frustrating, but it forces us to push harder.”
You are now three albums into your journey. What question about THE LOSTS do you feel people never ask – but should?
“I think this one is pretty good: ‘What question about THE LOSTS do you feel people never ask – but should?’, even if that question has already come up once now 😉”
If this album were a character in your own mythology, what would its personality be like? How would it speak, fight, or dream?
“In our previous album ‘Mystery of Depths’, the song ‘Tattoo the Child’ uses the image of a ‘child out of control‘. I’m quite fond of that idea, a kind of wild, disorderly, wayward innocence that doesn’t quite march in line. ‘Venom Within’ could be that child, quietly observing while hiding from the constant currents of its world.”
‘Venom Within‘ is not just an album – it’s a journey into shadow, mythology, and human nature.
The Losts have created a work that balances theatrical vocals, intricate storytelling, and emotional intensity.
Each listen reveals new layers, making it clear that this is a band embracing evolution while staying true to the dark, melodic core that defines them.
“Giving up control was a choice, so we could deliver a more focused and professional album. Doubt pushed us forward and sharpened everything.”
fok ‘bs’

“For 25 years I never thought about my music. People told me others were influenced by it, but I had no idea until we stepped back onstage.”

“Music is the only emotional and physical time machine.”

“Some people want authenticity, others want AI-sanitised crap — and too many don’t care about the difference.”

“People forget how much we did before the debut. Those songs were forged on the road long before they were recorded.”

“Technology smooths out the imperfections that push music forward. It kills passion and makes recordings sterile.”

“Perfection used to be about performance. Today it’s about software — and that’s dangerous for music.”

“If a musician can’t improvise, the chemistry dies. A trio needs freedom or it’s not rock’n’roll.”

“Vardis are just a loud, heavy rock’n’roll band.”

Vardis in concert 2026:
aug15th Zeeltje Rock 2026 Deest/NL

Few bands embody the spirit of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal as fiercely as VARDIS.
Formed in the late 1970s in Wakefield, the trio broke with expectations from day one:
high-voltage rock, blues grit, punk urgency and a metallic edge collided to form a sound unlike anything else emerging from the NWOBHM movement.
Their debut ‘100 M.P.H.’ – a live album released as their very first statement – instantly marked them as outliers.
Combined with the wild, unmistakable energy of frontman and guitarist Steve Zodiac, VARDIS quickly earned cult status.
After a long break, the band resurfaced in 2010 with new material, festival appearances and a cross-generational fanbase that had never truly let go.
Today, VARDIS are back in focus once more – thanks in part to newly remastered video clips that transform their adrenaline-charged history into crisp modern quality, reaffirming their legacy in heavy metal, hard rock and the early British underground.
Fok ‘bs‘ spoke with Steve Zodiac about lost footage, creative reinvention, the secret behind their stamina – and what NWOBHM really means in 2025.
When you revisited your old video archives for the recent restorations, what emotion surprised you the most: nostalgia, pride, or sheer disbelief?
“The feeling of being there. Time travel, not nostalgia. Music is the only emotional and physical time machine.”
Many NWOBHM bands only gained recognition later. When did you first realise the lasting impact VARDIS had made?
“For 25 years I never thought at all about my music. I never stopped songwriting and always enjoyed it, but threw myself into other work in sound: theatre, education, production. Sound is music, music is sound, there was always a sense of continuity, forward momentum. I had offers to reform the band down the years, and people would give me tapes of Megadeth and say ‘these guys really dig your stuff’, but I was unaware how many people still liked my music. It was only when we played our reunion shows in 2014 that I understood, the whole experience was very humbling as well as enlightening.”
Your debut was a live record, a bold move even today. How has that shaped your identity as a band over the decades?
“All we had known since the mid 70s was how to play live. We had little studio experience when we signed with Logo so it just felt natural and logical to make a live album our first major release. People don’t realise how much we did as a band before that debut album in 1980. Quo Vardis started gigging in 1973, Vardis became a trio of myself, Tony Boulton and Paul Wadkin in ’76, Alan Selway replaced Tony on bass in ’77 then Phil Medley replaced Paul on drums in ’78. That trio cut the ‘100 M.P.H.’ EP in 1979 and we made the transition from semi-pro to pro. All those years shaped that album, the songs were road tested. When I walked away from Vardis in 1986 without looking back, I guess my identity as Steve Zodiac protected and enabled me to build a new life doing other things in the industry. Since reforming Vardis in 2014 the personnel has changed just as much, but the hard work and rock’n’roll ethos has never really changed from the start, it’s built into the music on some level, even if every lineup has brought a different chemistry to it.”
While restoring old footage, what was the most unexpected detail or forgotten moment you rediscovered?
“How tight and fast the band played, especially at such a young age, and that we had already created a unique sound.”
Your early sound blurred the lines between hard rock, boogie, punk spirit, and metal. How consciously did you shape that hybrid approach then, and how conscious is it now?
“I always listened to a wide range of music. My mum played records and radio and sang rock and roll at home growing up, it was always there in the background for as far back as I can remember, so I suppose it must have been a big influence on me.”
What does authenticity mean to you in an era when music often sounds ‘perfect‘ rather than real?
“We all strive for perfection, but in the old days this was subjective based on the performance, and a good producer was paid to recognise this. Unfortunately today this art of production is being lost because we have so many computer technology options. This does two things: firstly it makes striving for perfection in performance less important because technology can shape the sound later, and secondly it smooths the imperfections in sound that push music forward to conform to the computer’s objective technical perfection. This often ‘corrects’ the very essence in the performance that makes the sound recording unique, destroys the passion and feel of the artist, and makes for a sterile recording in my opinion.”
Some early tracks are incredibly direct and raw. Are there songs you would approach differently today or avoid playing live altogether?
“I write most of my songs as country blues tunes on acoustic guitar. Everything beyond that is a different approach. Every performance is a new interpretation unique to that room, that stage, that moment. I’m always open to playing everything I’ve written live.”
How much room do spontaneity and risk still have in your music compared to the chaotic early NWOBHM years?
“I always want every musician I play with to feel they can express themselves. We only rehearse the structure of most songs, but we play live freeform. There are many accomplished musicians who can’t do this, but finding that chemistry in a trio is part of what I enjoy most. It makes every show we play different, dangerous and more fun.”
NWOBHM produced both legends and overlooked underground gems. Where do you personally see VARDIS in that history?
“Vardis are just a loud, heavy rock n roll band.”
If you could pass on only one creative lesson from your career to young musicians, what would it be?
“The performance is the sound. As a creative musician you strive for great performance, as a creative producer you strive for the instinct to recognise this.”
What was the biggest challenge in bringing your vintage footage into the modern era without losing its original character?
“I transferred the physical tapes myself but my son is in charge of the restoration process. He’s very anti-AI so takes the time to restore the years of degradation while staying true to the medium of recording, whether it’s a VHS camcorder or multi camera pro shot TV footage. Thankfully most of the character is in the music itself. The intimate dark sweaty vibes in the old video footage are genuinely how it was. Some people want authenticity, some want AI sanitised crap, and sadly there’s a lot of people who don’t care about the difference.”
You’ve experienced peaks, breaks, and rebirths. What has consistently driven you to carry on and return to the stage?
“Music is the only phenomenon that puts me in the same place I was age 20. The feeling of playing, of performing, is exactly the same. A true time machine.”
What’s one question no one ever asks about VARDIS but should, because it unlocks something essential about the band?
“Why did you want to escape?”
More than forty years after their first roar, VARDIS stand not as a nostalgia act but as a living force in British heavy rock.
With restored video clips, ongoing creativity and a fiercely loyal following, they shine a new light on their legacy – not as a museum piece, but as a foundation that still shakes the ground.
And that’s exactly how they sound today:
raw, honest, and unmistakably alive…
Fok ‘bs’

The Birch is an up-and-coming German modern-psychedelic rock trio that fuses analog warmth, twanging guitars, progressive structures, and cinematic sound textures into a style all their own.
Founded out of a shared love for psychedelic rock history and raw modernity, the band moves between hypnotic soundscapes, dark atmospheres, and driving rock’n’roll energy.
With their upcoming album ‘Vicious Minds‘, The Birch open a new chapter – more intense, bolder, and more emotional than ever.
On their new record, the German psych-rockers pack dark sonic clouds, Miami impressions, classic Hammond organs, and sweaty rock’n’roll vibes into seven tracks that oscillate between visionary modernity and retro-nostalgic soul.
Fok ‘bs‘ spoke with the band about courage, magical coincidences, inner demons, and the art of crafting a second album that refuses to be a copy of the first.
Your new album feels like a trip through light and shadow. Which inner ‘Vicious Minds‘ did you feel most strongly while writing the songs?
The Birch:
“Mountain Dew and American patriotism.”
You recorded in Miami – not exactly the typical location for German psychedelic rock. Which impressions of the city actually changed your sound?
The Birch:
“America in general is a very technical country, yet still very family-oriented and old-school. Miami in particular has a strong South American flair. All these impressions shaped the album’s sound significantly. And you definitely hear a lot more Aerosmith on the radio than in Germany.”
Many of your songs feel like they take place at night. Is darkness a creative state for you or more of an aesthetic statement?
Lucas Habenreich (guitars, vocals):
“Aesthetically, the night means very little to me. Still, it’s my main time of day, so it shapes the songs a lot. Nights have something ecstatic about them – ideally, everyone is where they want to be and who they want to be.”
How do you decide when a track should remain hypnotic – and when it’s allowed to ‘break out‘?
The Birch:
“There’s not much decision-making involved – it just happens. Our dogma is dynamics, and few things are as dynamic to us as music with sonic variety. Whether that’s psychedelic, noise, or trance doesn’t matter. We’re just unfortunately not yet pros on the synth.”
Your music often has a very cinematic character. Are there directors or film scenes that have influenced your sound?
The Birch:
“The first thing that comes to mind is the Jupiter scene from 2001 – A Space Odyssey. The way Stanley Kubrick creates tension in his films is definitely a big inspiration for us. Also Wes Anderson, who produces ultra-modern films with a vintage aesthetic, is clearly one of our inspirations.”
‘Downpour‘ features that special string arrangement. How does a psychedelic trio come to the decision to suddenly use strings?
The Birch:
“Our top priority is writing good songs, so we don’t restrict ourselves with a rigid concept. Without strings, the song would have felt like a rough draft to us. Just like the ‘naked versions’ of some Beatles songs don’t feel finished, we didn’t want to miss out on that obvious character.”
You sound modern but never artificial. Where do you draw the line between contemporary and timeless?
The Birch:
“Timeless means reflecting on what elements from the past still fit today’s world. We’ll always make loud, hard music as long as the world is loud and hard. But we can’t sing Vietnam flashbacks anymore – our time offers too much else. Being contemporary also means using modern technology because, in some areas, it’s simply better. We’re very glad we don’t have to play with a Woodstock PA.”
Many of your songs feel like dialogues with inner voices. Did you ever feel like you were watching yourselves while writing?
Lucas Habenreich:
“Not really. I write about things I can’t put into words. If I manage to do that somehow, it’s only in the form of lyrics. There’s little strategy behind it. I focus much more on certain craft elements in the writing.”
How has your band dynamic changed from the first to the second album – especially in moments when you didn’t agree?
The Birch:
“Unlike the first album, the second one comes entirely from our sessions. Since Volker became a permanent member, the writing process has become much more organic and everything flows into each other. When we argue, it’s about details – not about someone not standing out enough.”
If your music were a place – what color, what weather, what temperature would it have?
The Birch:
“A red house on La Gomera, 35°C, sunny, with clouds in the distance.”
Is there a musical ‘no-go‘ you’ve imposed on yourselves to keep your sound clear?
The Birch:
“Quantization and autotune… all natural.”
Psychedelic rock is experiencing a kind of renaissance right now. Do you see yourselves as part of that movement or as outsiders who just happen to orbit the same universe?
The Birch:
“We definitely see ourselves as part of it. The process of a young scene forming is slowly beginning, and we’re all very excited for what the future brings.”
What’s one question about THE BIRCH that nobody ever asks, even though it would reveal the most about you?
The Birch:
“No one ever asks: ‘Who’s driving?’ That would answer a lot. 😉 It’s Volker, by the way!”
THE BIRCH remain a band that refuses to be pinned down – neither by nostalgia nor by genre boundaries.
‘Vicious Minds‘ presents them more seasoned, bolder, and with the confidence to evolve their sound without compromise.
If the trio continues on this trajectory, the modern psych-rock world won’t be able to ignore them much longer.
Fok ‘bs’