Malevolence: “Bands come and go, and it’s really nice to believe that we’re still on the up”

Immediately, the banter exploded. Alex’s Insta stories filled with memes: Stephen Graham losing his rag in Adolescence; an AI reel of himself getting put in cuffs under the caption ‘when you film a music video on a really nice hill in the countryside’; the aforementioned Succulent Chinese Meal classic; the NT’s social media managers reimagined as a fed-up Jeremy Clarkson when they log in the next day. The video itself was almost immediately re-uploaded to YouTube. The account: ‘Trust Issues’.

“We wanted to showcase to the world how amazing the surrounding areas of where we come from are,” Alex tells us. “When we tried communicating with National Trust to find a resolution, including making a donation to their cause, it was disregarded and they were disrespectful, telling us they were ‘too busy’ to deal with it.”

Their loss. It matters not – and we’re not trying to sound like narcs here – that National Trust are being responsible, albeit boring (imagine all the shite influencer morons would be making, and the potential damage they’d do, if they started treating ancient relics as their own TV studio). The point is: once again, Malevolence are having the last laugh. And all the chatter proves is that they're one of the most talked-about metal bands in the country.

If this seems amusingly unexpected, one only need look back over the past two years to find plenty of other, much happier, moments when Malevolence – completed by bassist Wilkie Robinson and drummer Charlie Thorpe – have had cause to ponder their circumstances. Or, as Josh puts it, “How the fuck did we end up here?”

Here’s one. Last summer, on the final leg of their enormous U.S. tour opening for Mastodon and Lamb Of God, they found themselves playing near some other cliffs – this time at Colorado’s beautiful Red Rocks Amphitheatre. For over 100 years, it’s been known as one of North America’s most iconic and beautiful venues. Living up to its name, its two most obvious features are a pair of massive dusty red monoliths, Ship Rock and Creation Rock, that dominate the view to the left and right of the natural amphitheatre hewn into the state’s sandstone. Asked what it was like to stand on such a stage, Alex says it “literally took my breath away…”

“What they don’t tell you is how high it is above sea level,” laughs the singer. “It’s twice the height of England’s tallest mountain. I was having to huff on an oxygen tank between songs because I couldn’t get my breath to sing or shout!”

A fortnight before Red Rocks, Malev flew back from America for one night to sub-headline Bloodstock underneath Architects, a photo-finish for the biggest and most bananas set the festival has ever hosted. Not long after, they took to the road in Europe for their biggest shows under their own steam to date.

More recently, they found themselves in Dave Grohl’s Studio 606 out in California. As well as being Foo Fighters’ de facto base of operations, it’s also home to the 1970s Neve recording console that Dave salvaged from now-closed recording house Sound City, through which too many records to adequately list were made: Nirvana’s Nevermind, Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, Slipknot’s Iowa, QOTSA’s Rated R, Dio’s Holy Diver, Rage Against The Machine’s debut, Tom Petty’s Damn The Torpedoes. And here Malevolence were, adding to that number.

“It was quite weird, to be honest. We were recording drums on the same desk that they recorded Nevermind on,” enthuses Josh. “There’s so much cool memorabilia in there. All Foo Fighters’ stuff is stored in there. Taylor Hawkins’ drum sets were all in the back. It was crazy!”

“It’s a very inspiring place to be when you’re in there and you’re seeing all the plaques on the walls, and the records of all the bands that have been there,” agrees Alex. “It’s sick. It makes you feel like you’ve made it, recording in there. You go, ‘Oh, this is what all the documentaries and all the songs are about!’ It’s literally walls of accolades.”

“I never thought we’d get to do this stuff in my wildest dreams, to be honest,” says Josh. Believe it, lad. Something even more massive is about to happen. Whether the National Trust like it or not.

Those new songs fit the size and ambition of Malevolence 2025 perfectly. Working with producer Josh Wilbur (Korn, Lamb Of God, Trivium), their trademark chonk and heft has been pumped up and toned into an even more efficient destroying machine, a natural fit for the sort of huge stages they’ve trod upon recently. The darker, slower-burning edge, meanwhile, has expanded, such as on Salt The Wound, a welcome reminder at just how good Malevolence are at writing actual songs, as well as rough-and-tumble breakdowns and shout-alongs.

“There seemed to be quite a lot of pressure to one-up what had happened on [2022’s] Malicious Intent, because it did the band a lot of good,” says Josh. “We played a lot of good festival slots, and the word spread quite quickly, and the band got a lot bigger. We asked ourselves, ‘What is it about that record that did really well? How can we set the foundation of the new one to be better and really push ourselves further?’”

“The biggest pressure is on ourselves,” says Alex. “I think we were always trying to one-up ourselves. The thing with Malevolence is, we’re not really trying to do it because we think these people want to hear this or this. We want it to be better than the last album, for our own sense of pride.”

The pair say the whole band got more involved than ever before in the writing of Where Only The Truth Is Spoken. Under the gaze of Josh Wilbur – “A mediator,” says Josh, “he stopped us just arguing about ideas” – every idea was picked over and stress-tested to make sure it all pulled its hefty weight. Josh reveals that some of the riffs are from years ago “in a random folder”, brought to life and pumped up to their full potential with the rest of the band when they were finally given a home. If they wanted to try something, Josh Wilbur could help quickly demo it to see if it worked, if it was up to scratch.

If the planning was precise and picked out, though, the actual performances are feral. Alex recalls Charlie nailing all his drum parts at 606 in under a week (“He was a machine – he smashed it”). When the riffs drop, it’s with a taut, violent energy, a highly-controlled chaos and the intended impact. As for Alex, even next to Lamb Of God’s Randy Blythe, who turns up to lend his trademark ‘Wooooargh’ to In Spite (“I was so chuffed when we got that back and heard he’d done that,” beams the singer, “It sounds fucking great”), his bark has become even more direct.

For a man who admits that he “turns up and shouts” because “I didn’t have the fucking patience to learn guitar”, there’s also a surprising depth to what Alex says between mosh-calls. When it came to the album’s lyrics, he was particular about making sure they meant something.

“We don’t want to be singing about the stuff that we were singing about when we were 18, like demons and dragons,” he explains. “You’ve got the opportunity to speak about whatever you want, whatever you’re feeling strongly about in that particular moment in time. The fun part is making it all work with the music.”

So, the band would sit and listen to the demos, to properly engage with what they felt when they heard the riffs, and how it fit with the song’s theme.

“We’d literally put it on a whiteboard,” Alex says. “We’d write the theme up, and then everyone tucks themselves away, go on their phones a little bit, and we’d just brainstorm ideas.”

Where the lyrics go are in myriad directions. All of them, though, come with a real, occasionally bruised, often frustrated sense of humanity. Take Trenches, dealing with the sort of punishers who remind you of their existence once they see you doing well.

“It’s not necessarily aimed at anyone in particular, but I feel like at some point in every person’s life, these people will appear, and it’s addressing them,” Alex says. “Punishers, people who want something off you, people who want to take your hard-earned money.”

The album’s closer, meanwhile, With Dirt From My Grave, ends things on a poignant note. In it, the frontman explores the push-and-pull of where he and his friends have found themselves, and the cost of good fortune such as theirs.

“It’s basically talking about the sacrifices that you make being in a touring band, and the things that you miss,” he explains. “It’s the best job in the world, but you miss family, engagements, birthdays, weddings, funerals, all of that kind of stuff. That song is all about the constant mental struggle with that.”

Should you be after an example of how this is the best job in the world, the first look at the album, If It’s All The Same To You, is a doozy. In the lead-up to its release back in March, the Sheffield Online news site released, with no mention of the band, “CCTV” of the perps of a “high value theft in Sheffield”, one of whom is quite clearly Alex (“Dunno what you’re talking about…”). Then the video emerged featuring the band doing a heist for their own artwork, including sliding around in supercars, under the instruction of Snatch acting legend Alan ‘Brick Top’ Ford, the only man on Earth hard enough to end his monologue by telling the band to fuck off.

“I just thought, ‘How sick would it be if we could get a British gangster or someone to be the guy that sends us out on this heist?’” recalls Alex. “I’ve only ever seen him in films where he’s on about chopping people up and feeding them to the pigs, like in Snatch. I did think, ‘Fucking hell, is he going to be a dickhead, or is he going to be sound?’ but he was the loveliest guy. We still text, and he reads all the comments on the video!”

It’s not actually about lovely people, though. Or having a banter time arsing around stealing paintings.

“The idea really came from people who will read some fucking right wing bullshit on the internet, and they’ll suddenly believe that that’s the way of the world, and once they’re in that mindset, that’s it, they won’t hear anything else,” Alex sighs. “I don’t have time for anyone of that mentality, who isn’t willing to hear any other point of view. They just will take their ignorance and spread it.

“That song is about wanting nothing to do with that. You keep that shit over there. I’m going this way.”

Just as Alex and Josh say they wanted the album to push their sound and take things further, the UK dates on the accompanying tour are statement-sized. In November, they’ll end their year with shows at London’s 5,000-capacity O2 Academy Brixton, and Manchester’s massive O2 Victoria Warehouse. It’s here that, when they talk about sacrifice, or hard work, or being proud of themselves, it’s the hard-won result.

“Having the courage to push and do venues like Vicky Warehouse and Brixton, it’s testament to ourselves and how much effort we’ve put in,” says Josh. “And also to the fans and people who support the band and have done for so long. Playing in Manchester and London has been a thing for us for 10 years. I feel like there’s a lot of history with the band, and people do respect it, and they’ve shown us a lot of support. Bands come and go a lot, and it’s really nice to believe that we’re still on the up.”

“It’s ambitious and exciting,” adds Alex. “And it’s a bit scary, but sometimes you’ve just got to take the leap and see what happens. I don’t remember ever having a goal other than to play shows and have people mosh. If I got that, then I was happy. To be honest, not much has changed.”

It has: Malevolence are bigger and bolder. How the fuck did five lads from Sheffield make it? Doesn’t matter, they’re here. And it’s something we should all be proud of.

Where Only The Truth Is Spoken is due out on June 20 via MLVLTD in partnership with Nuclear Blast. See Malevolence live in Manchester and London this November – get your tickets now.

Read this next:

• Malevolence’s Alex Taylor: The 10 songs that changed my life
• “Everyone thinks I’m a tough guy, but I’m a big softie really”: 13 Questions with Malevolence’s Alex Taylor
• Malevolence: “We’re not trying to be anyone other than ourselves”