Dark proggers Crippled Black Phoenix have moved away from their usual narratives on broken society and turned inwards on Sceaduhelm. Multi-instrumentalist Justin Greaves and vocalist Belinda Kordic take us on a journey beneath their music’s shadowy veil.
“It’s not going to get better – I’m sorry!” says Belinda Kordic. “It’s just going to get worse. We’re doomed!” Bastions of radical rock since 2004, Crippled Black Phoenix have never been a band inclined to mince words; and on their latest album, Sceaduhelm, core members Kordic and Justin Greaves deal with some difficult subjects that reach into the heart of our modern malaise.
But rather than indulge in a political debate or prosaic protest, their new songs take a more thoughtful and personal approach to confronting the impending end of all things.
Thankfully, the music contained on their 13th album of new material is often majestic, uplifting and weirdly accessible, as if the poison pill of their brutal lyrical preoccupations has necessitated a more easily digestible backdrop. But underneath that gritty, grandiose and fervently melodic exterior, multi-instrumentalist/songwriter Greaves and vocalist Kordic are laying landmines for the unsuspecting public to stumble upon.
“Yeah, in a way it’s cheery pop songs, but with a basic message of ‘We’re fucked!’” says Greaves with a laugh. “I’ve said it many times in the past, but sometimes I feel like we’re giving people candy with razor blades in it. It sounds really nice, but there’s always some vicious little things in there, and it’s pointed in terms of its themes and stories. This album is more dark than political. It’s a little more personal for Belinda, while it’s all a little more veiled.”
Previous albums have dealt with the harsh realities of everything from the abuse of animals to the impacts of depression. Sceaduhelm is less bombastic in its themes. From recent single Ravenettes – which at least seems to be about struggling to shake off past traumas – to the self-explanatory Tired To The Bone – a paean to post-millennial exhaustion – this is an album that stares into the dark with a keen eye and a heavy heart.
The title is a neat synopsis of the current state of things and a typically ambiguous statement from this ferociously intelligent band. “The translation of the title is ‘the cover of darkness’,” explains Greaves. “The first half of the word is pronounced ‘shadow,’ which represents darkness; and ‘helm’ is a protective cover or a castle in the rocks or whatever. So it could be that darkness is covering us all, and the world is in darkness, or it could be about protecting yourself from the darkness. It’s a duplicitous title!”
“I mostly sing about animals and politicians and all that stuff,” adds Kordic. “But this time I’ve gone more inwards. I’m not a person who wears their heart on their sleeve. I’d rather not tell you exactly how I feel; I veil it, because it feels too naked for me.
“People say it’s therapeutic to write a diary and express how you feel, but for me it’s the other way round. It gives me more anxiety. I need to keep shit locked up in a box. I feel worse writing down how I feel. But I felt like doing it this time, at least with a few of those songs, so it’s more personal this time.”
At a time when caring deeply about the world and the poor, downtrodden bastards that live in it is just about the most radical thing we can do, Crippled Black Phoenix’s outlier status is more apparent than ever. An admirably tricky band to pin down to any one sub-genre or stylistic approach, Greaves’ amorphous crew take pride in their opposition to the obvious and the conventional.
That they maintain their identity while making glorious, impassioned rock songs is even more impressive in light of the amount of abuse they get from – to be slightly reductive for a moment – angry people on the internet. Particularly when it comes to their militant opposition to animal cruelty, Crippled Black Phoenix have turned the act of rubbing people up the wrong way into a noble, if accidental, artform.
“I’ve found in recent years that because we do stick our heads above the trench a few times and try to shed light about something we’re passionate about, it’s made us a target,” says Greaves. “People think they can try to destroy us with stupid comments, like we’re always up for debate or we can be bullied.
You came for the music and you’ve got it. You can have something else as well if you want
Justin Greaves
“I posted something that was related to Gaza and I’ve had death threats ever since! We post something about animal abuse, and there’s always someone going, ‘Ha ha! I like my burgers! Shut the fuck up!’ or the classic one: ‘I came to this page for the music, not your opinions!’ Well, fuck off, then! You came for the music and you’ve got the music. You can have something else as well if you want – but if not, just ignore it! There’s no reasoning with these fucking idiots.”
“If I had the mental strength to be out in the field, working for animals or documenting slaughterhouses and all of that, I’d do it,” Kordic notes. “But I don’t. I can’t handle that stuff. So we do it this way instead: we write about it. How can people tell musicians what to write about? I would never tell someone else what to write.”
By far their most focused and cohesive album to date, Sceaduhelm pitches Crippled Black Phoenix as inveterate refuseniks who use music as their means to find some shred of sanity along life’s relentlessly enervating journey. It’s both a magnificent slice of dark, progressive rock and one of the most thrillingly punk records in recent memory.
That curious dichotomy has driven them throughout their lengthy career, and Greaves continues to take pride in such gently subversive creativity. “What we do is whatever we want it to be, but it will always have that spirit, whether it’s a punk spirit or we’re just free-spirited,” he states. “I think the punk spirit is about having a conscience, being tolerant of other people and being creatively independent and creatively original.
“But we ended up being on a prog label and being in Prog magazine, and yeah, we can be classed as progressive. It’s like the spirit of ’69 to ’75, when bands were genuinely doing original stuff. They were the ones in charge; they tried different things and did whatever they wanted, and that’s progressive to me.”
Even though they light fires of comfort and solidarity under the cover of darkness, Crippled Black Phoenix are still primarily concerned with being the best band they can be. As they enter a new era, with a largely settled line-up and the prospect of tours and festivals on the horizon, their desire to offer something honest and real is as refreshing and inspirational as ever.
Sceaduhelm is a riveting, agit-rock Trojan horse, designed to make people think – and, with any luck, to find some humanity and compassion too. “This is our little outlet to be creative,” Greaves says. “People still don’t know where to put us. We’re not preaching, but long live independence! It’s all about thinking for yourself.
“We record an album, and if people like it, great; but we’re the ones who decide what it is. We’re old-fashioned, I guess. No one knows what to do with us. We’re always the anomaly!”
Sceaduhelm is on sale now.
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