The last show you played was the Pure Noise Records’ 15th anniversary alongside Knocked Loose. How inspiring is it to see a band make extreme, aggressive music really massive?
“We’ve know those guys for years. Their trajectory has been insane. What’s impressed me most has been their ability to keep dipping into different things, like collaborating with Poppy or Chris Motionless. A lot of the time, metal kids can be stupid. They see collaborations like that and say, ‘What the fuck are they doing?!’ But with Knocked Loose they don’t give a shit. They’ve got so much self-confidence, such an aura, and they manage to keep it so heavy that they can afford to be like, ‘We don’t fucking care!’ They’re an anomaly, for sure. We’ve seen a lot of bands in this genre blow up in terms of hype, then they make one wrong move and people lose interest. Knocked Loose seem to avoid that, just getting bigger and bigger. Our friends in Kublai Khan TX are experiencing a similar thing where they’re simultaneously the biggest and the heaviest they’ve ever been. It’s inspiring. It makes other bands think, ‘Maybe we can do what we want, too.’ And it’s proof that you don’t need to make butt rock and get on satellite radio to be a ‘big’ band!”
Your Live In Toronto release this summer felt like it was capping off an era, but songs on Heaven Let Them Die like A Martyr Left Alive feel very much like a continuation of what you were saying on A Eulogy For Those Still Here. You’ve alluded to this being a ‘rebirth’. To what extent is it that?
“It’s not necessarily a rebirth for this band – more a rejuvenation. Or a pivot. For me, a real rebirth would be something like when our friends in Hundredth went from being really, really heavy to saying, ‘Fuck this, we want to make some indie rock!’ and then releasing the best stuff they’d ever done. This still sounds very much like Counterparts – just heavier. Lyrically, it’s a continuation of the same themes as always, overlapping with Eulogy, but also the last END full-length, even featuring lyrical references to what I’ve written before. And our records tend to pick up where the last one left off. Heaven Let Them Die is literally where Eulogy ended. Eulogy was a whole record about mourning things that weren’t gone yet – friendships, relationships, my cat – and wondering what I’d do when they were. Heaven Let Them Die picks up with me having lost a lot of those things. Having the heavier musical content allowed me to be heavier in the lyrics. I don’t need to worry about writing around some pretty part when I want to talk about, like, beheading a fucking saint!”
Tell us about the experiences and thought-processes driving that.
“Well, No Lamb Was Lost on the new record is a sequel to Whispers Of Your Death on Eulogy. I was writing about my last cat Kuma, who was sick the whole time I had him – I knew he was going to die, and that it was going to wreck me – then that song, maybe this whole record, is about dealing with the grief. It’s about things dying, literally and figuratively, how I got depressed, how I became a fucking drunk. The big metaphor is how heaven – or ‘God’, whatever you want to call it – let that happen. [That higher power] saw me struggling and thought, ‘Let’s dwindle his friend group, let’s ruin his relationships, oh, and let’s take away his fucking cat, too!’ I did everything I could to save those things, but they’re still gone. I prayed, I begged, I did everything, and Heaven Let Them Die…
“A lot of the record is about the desire to get revenge for that. Metaphorically speaking, I’d like to go to heaven and punch God in the face. We already had a lot of that kind of religious imagery on Eulogy in songs like A Mass Grave Of Saints and Bound To The Burn. This is really just applying the present tense to it. If you believe heaven is real, you [might want to] wage war on it. If everything is going to die anyway, what’s the point? What are we but food for starving angels?”