Heriot: “I want us to bring a new style of metal, with the same values we started with, making heavy, abrasive, immersive music”

There is something fitting about Heriot appearing in this setting. The Swindon four-piece are named after a type of Anglo-Saxon death inheritance tax in European feudal society, when the lord of a particular area was entitled to claim some of the property, such as their armour or best horse, upon the death of one of his tenants. So this aesthetic is very much on brand.

But there’s an irony to Heriot being here, too. Because, standing in front of a building that looks the part but is, in fact, a mere facade with little behind it, is a band who are bringing both artistry and substance to British metal. The foundations they’ve built since Debbie joined in 2019 have resulted in fascinating new songwriting opportunities and bold, ambitious music, following Heriot’s sludgier early incarnation that made EPs Violence (2015) and World Collapse (2016).

Not that those early days are discussed to any meaningful degree today. Nor, sadly, do we get the skinny on the band Erhan and Julian played in together as teenagers. The duo refuse to divulge much on the Asking Alexandria-like outfit they were in from ages 13 to 16, for fear more investigatively-minded fans might try to track them down online. All they’ll say about it is that they uniformly wore vests onstage and, according to Julian, were purveyors of “terrible metalcore with the worst breakdowns you’ve ever heard”.

As Debbie and Jake join proceedings, the four happily reflect upon more recent efforts, specifically the highlights of their career to-date. Two events, in particular, come to mind. Firstly, there was Download 2022, a matter of weeks after the release of their Profound Morality EP, when they opened The Dogtooth Stage to thousands of people, many of them outside the tent struggling to get in, chanting the band’s name before they’d even appeared. It’s an unforgettable memory for everyone but Julian, who recalls walking out and stumbling off dazed afterwards, but the in-between remains an adrenaline-soaked fever dream. “My brain obviously couldn’t compute what was going on,” says Julian with a slow shake of the head.

Then there was 2000trees a matter of weeks later, where the response was more of a slow build than an instant explosion, which arguably made it just as rewarding. The members of Heriot have frequented 2000trees, the independent festival in Gloucestershire, a number of times as punters over the years, usually overdoing the partying on the first night and sleeping it off well into the next day. They therefore assumed that 2022’s festival-goers would be doing the same, especially when there was only one row of them as the band soundchecked. Thankfully, as their set progressed, as Erhan explains, “We could suddenly see droves and droves of people gradually appearing, drawn in by the music. It was mental!”

With the forthcoming release of their debut album, the irresistibly-titled Devoured By The Mouth Of Hell, those droves are set to increase in number. So, are Heriot prepared for the hordes to gather under their banner?

Turns out they’re way too cool – and nervous – for that kind of hyperbole.

Debbie Gough’s unofficial role in Heriot, she reveals in her striking Brummie accent, is as “bringer of worry”. While this might not sound like a positive attribute, her habit of looking 10-15 years into the future and discussing every creative and logistical choice at least 20 times ensures the band stay on the right path – because she sees this as a metal marathon, not a sprint. As a result, her thoughts unspool slowly and deliberately, via carefully chosen words. She admits to often thinking of things she’d rather have said in an interview long after the fact.

“I view Heriot as a forever thing,” reasons Debbie now. “We’re serious about this, so I always have concerns about protecting us and making the right decisions. We have realists in the band with big ideas, and we have the more concerned people, so somewhere in the middle is what we end up doing.”

“I welcome negative feedback – it’s quite enjoyable,” suggests Jake. The bassist and Debbie have much in common, having both been raised by dads who habitually listened to rock radio, introducing them to the likes of Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and AC/DC from an early age, thereby setting them on journeys to discovering heavier, darker, more emotionally intense fare.

They’re both somewhat reluctant singers, too. They grew up playing guitar and bass, respectively, so view themselves as practitioners of those instruments, first and foremost. The introduction of vocal duties, then, has been something they’ve had to embrace through necessity rather than overwhelming desire. “I never align myself with being a singer,” admits Debbie. “When we’re on tour, Jake and I can look out for and rely on each other, as we both worry about it all the time.”

Thankfully, those worries were allayed by the presence of Josh Middleton, the leader of Reading metallers Sylosis and formerly guitarist of Architects. As producer of Devoured By The Mouth Of Hell, Josh provided Heriot with something they’d never had before: a much-needed outside perspective on the intricacies of their performances.

If Jake has an unofficial role in Heriot, it’s as Debbie’s “chill” counterpoint. This is likely because his ‘day’ job, as an award-winning vegan chef at a Bristol restaurant for the past six years, is so full-on. “I haven’t got the fucking brain power to deal with any more stress when I get out of work,” he laughs. “I’m definitely the sleepiest one in the band.”

As well as acting as the band’s in-house production arm and the man responsible for many of their merch designs, Jake is evidently Heriot’s most philosophical member, too. Having been forged by the fire of busy kitchens since leaving school at 16, he’s no stranger to scrutiny; as anyone who’s watched the TV show The Bear can attest, cookery is no picnic. Jake is more at ease, then, in a sideline that allows him to write riffs in his pants at 2am, before performing them – with trousers reinstated – in front of 3,000 people to combustible effect. These opportunities mean the slings and arrows of public opinion aren’t a big deal, but rather welcome.

“Criticism is good to see because it means you’re progressing as a band,” explains Jake. “You’re not just giving your music to people that like it – it’s getting in front of people who don’t, then you can see how it lands with them. I don’t like everything in the world, so I don’t expect other people to. If anyone outside this musical circle we’re in asks me what our band sounds like, I say, ‘Have a listen. You probably won’t like it, but I know I do and a lot of other people do.”

“We know what we do in our band isn’t for everyone,” agrees Debbie. “But that’s the point.”

This creative set-up was not dissimilar to the making of their EP, which came together in a practice room over the course of a week, as water from a mouldy hole in the ceiling dripped upon their heads. This time, thankfully, they were spared the indignation of having to turn the sofa cushions over every few couple of minutes to ensure they didn’t get too damp.

Heriot did, however, have to clear the detritus left by the many touring bands that have stayed in this building over the years, freeing up space to put in a table on which to house their studio equipment. It’s a good thing they made the record when they did, too, as Debbie is being kicked out of the property soon for the most valid of reasons: it’s falling down and is to be demolished.

Similarly, the band scrapped a great deal of the material they initially wrote for their debut in March of last year. Though they were pleased with what they wrote at the time, after a summer of festival appearances and ingesting more music, they decided much of what they’d done wasn’t up to snuff, so regrouped last November to produce something more cohesive. “Within two days we’d written five new songs – one of which we did from start to finish in one day,” reveals Jake. “We knew immediately that what we’d done was sitting right with us.”

Debbie and Jake agree that Foul Void, while not the first song they wrote for the record, was the one that acted as the blueprint for what was to come. Both also agree that Opaline, an ethereal but evil beast of a track, is among the as-yet-unheard offerings they’re most excited to share with fans. Musically, it sounds like Elizabeth Fraser from Cocteau Twins and Zakk Wylde guesting with Type O Negative in Satan’s own speakeasy.

They namecheck another favourite in Visage, a claustrophobic dirge that sonically approximates drowning in the sea before being thrust by the tide head-first onto a perilous shoreline. Unsurprisingly, given these fantastical descriptions, these tracks, as well as the other eight on Devoured By The Mouth Of Hell, are too broad in scope and dense in execution to be easily characterised. And that’s just the way their creators want it.

For Jake, a man of simple pleasures, seeing comments online that recognise the influence of Chimaira, Machine Head and Godflesh in his band’s music is reward enough. Debbie, however, has her own personal goal.

“I’d like it to make a statement for us and be the body of work that people remember Heriot for,” she offers, before re-adjusting her focus, as is her wont, to 10-15 years further down the road. “I want us to bring a new style of metal, with the same values we started with, making heavy, abrasive, immersive music.”

So far, so fucking good.

Devoured By The Mouth Of Hell is due out on September 27 via Century Media.

Plus, pick up a bottle of Heriot’s very own hot sauce – a spicy collab with Lou’s Brews and K! – right here!

Read this next:

• Ithaca: “When I was younger, it felt like I was fighting everyone. Now, where I get my energy from isn’t that dark place anymore”
• Heriot’s Debbie Gough: The 10 songs that changed my life
• Dying Wish: “We’re very radical people, but maybe showing love and compassion is the most radical thing that we can do”