Issue 48 / September 2014

Bido Lito! September 2014 7
the band over a few IPAs and I’m surprised at how open
and approachable they are; we quickly bond over a mutual
appreciation of Breaking Bad, and a mutual disgust for David
Cameron and George Osborne. A wasp enters through the
window and irritates us, and I ask the band about their writing
process and why they are so angry.
“We write from personal experience, from what we see
going on around us. We are particularly pissed off with blind
consumerism and the malpractice of governments and
authorities. For us anger at authority is always there and will
never go away, giving us plenty as a band to write about. We
see stabbings and blood and loads of urban decay all around us,
and this inspires us to be continuously sick, in a psychological
sense, and we hope this comes through in the music.”
In a material sense, Corrupt Moral Altar’s music and
performances correspond to their name, suggesting an offering
or sacrifice – a contribution of corrupt flesh and blood in a
futile attempt to cleanse impure souls. There are themes of
redemption, purging and catharsis present in their conceptual
armour. Metallic and monstrous, the Corrupt Moral Altar set
shifts through a series of violent scenarios, screams and heavy
drones. Primitive mantras and dirges are occasionally whipped
into down-tuned frenzies as the band enact razor-blade rituals.
“We don’t really write about mythical stuff. For us the writing
has to be real and extreme, both musically and lyrically. We
work together, fusing little poems into patterns that begin
to fit sequentially. We can’t really say what comes first and
sometimes we discover things accidentally, such as the dual
vocal stuff on the album. Each track remains a work in progress
right up to its recording.”
Within the album there are a number of surprises, always
taking the listener off guard. The artwork is of particular interest,
depicting a matrix of entwined souls, exposed and vulnerable
to the violence and aggression of a corporate spectacle. I’m
reminded of paintings and engravings illustrating The Divine
Comedy and Dante’s depictions of Hell: the perceived sins of
Christianity – greed, indulgence and malice – processed by the
band and subsequently ravaged.
“We loved the artwork of bands such as Entombed and
Morbid Angel. When we were younger we always appreciated
great covers, sometimes at our peril. But naturally we wanted
to spend a lot of time on the artwork. We were staring into
the Mersey, watching tides and waves, like chains or synapses
in the brain, and imagining bodies in there, churned up and
unable to escape. Immediately we were reminded of the
crushing immorality of modern life… we wanted to reflect this
in the title as well. We commissioned an artist, Lucas Ruggieri,
to do the cover because we loved his work and we wanted it to
have that material depth. It took him five months to finish it but
we wanted that specific depiction of futility and resistance.”
Corrupt Moral Altar urge themselves to push against the
prescribed agendas of capitalism; to organise and redefine
a subculture that refuses to budge. The opening track of the
album, Father Tongue, blasts structures of patriarchy, depicting
domestic disdain in an abandoned, tinned-up ruin. Slabs of
dark metal grind and tangle with intense blasts of beats, the
doomier aspects revealing dark deeds as spirals of black blood
spread over floorboards. Heavy riffs ooze an intense atrophy
of pleasure mixed with disgust and bewilderment. Echoes
add haunting textures and malevolence to a range of bloody
harmonies and distorted frequencies. And they’re not through
with us yet.
“We hate the idea of categorisation, and it plays into the
politics of control and classification. We want to develop our
own personality as a band. We aren’t afraid of revisiting genres
that have inspired us. We even appreciate prog-rock and
psychedelic music for its textures and use of structures that
resist the typical construction of music. We try to constantly
think outside the box.”
Rather than batter away at the fantastic or satanic, the
band are eager to explore more esoteric myths such as Die
Glocke – a secret scientific weapon associated with Nazi
Occultism and anti-gravity research. The band utilise this object
symbolically, describing in an abstract sense the weapons
utilised in oppressing modern societies, such as surveillance
and technology. Arteries of fury throb throughout Mechanical
Tides. However, there is no pretence or illusion as the listener
is invited to envisage the monotony of a northern city and its
outskirts, pushed away from the spectacle of corporations that
pander to aggressive consumerism and macho culture, while
ignoring the dirt, grime and puke stains that accumulate within
dreams of cosmopolitanism, celebrity culture and hip bakeries.
Banal tropes of homogenous culture are spat back with
vitriol in the face of bland consumerism, negating economies of
reproduction and distribution. I first encountered hardcore/death
metal and thrash back in the early 1980s, quickly becoming
obsessed with bands such as Napalm Death, Celtic Frost, Energetic
Crusher and Hellbastard, their recordings disseminated via C90
tapes and carrier pigeons. These days, the internet allows free
and instant sharing of underground metal and the days of tape
trading are gone: however, touring and consistency are things
that emphasise the importance of bands like Corrupt Moral Altar,
who appear unwilling to take their foot off the gas. Though
not afraid to experiment, they stick to their guns, maintaining
a sense of integrity that embraces immediacy and exchange.
Collaboration and networks are key to these bands and, despite
an aggressive individualism, there is, paradoxically, a great deal
of generosity and support for other bands.
“We met in Southport by accident really. We were hanging out
together and regularly getting smashed and we just decided to
start making music. We started two years ago and we’ve been
gaining momentum ever since. We do see ourselves as isolated
from the Liverpool scene, but at the same time we’ve had loads
of collaborations with bands such as Iron Witch, We Came Out
Like Tigers and Coltsblood. We always try to help each other out
with recording and touring.”
It’s refreshing that this generation is following a template
set by early punk bands. There can be many comparisons made
between contemporary metal/hardcore bands and their 20th
Century predecessors, lads and lasses still keen to abandon
mundane factory work or careers in the service industry in favour
of their own creative practices. Loyalty and pride are visibly
recognisable at metal gigs across the North West, evidenced
in the audiences that support such events. Bodies are inscribed
with tattoos and strange symbols, hair is overgrown, and battle
vests are emblazoned with an array of bands spanning decades,
so that VoiVod and Possessed now share the same denim space
as EyeHateGod and Nails.
The prestige of signing for a label like Season Of Mist means
that Corrupt Moral Altar can focus more on the music and less
on the complicated labours of arranging gigs and putting out
material. In a short time they have come a long way, and are
enjoying the acclaim they deserve. Like so many metal/doom/
hardcore bands in the North West, they’re savouring success
which is not necessarily measured in financial accumulation.
Instead, they are able to sustain their activities of making
records and touring without losing their souls to the more
corporate tendencies of the music industry.
After wrapping up the conversation, I continue back to the
Liverpool suburbs. Mechanical Tides is my music of choice,
blasting out of my diminutive car speakers, which can barely
handle the intensities of sound that the band evoke. My
knuckles are white as I drive and I resist the temptation to put
my foot down and crash into any innocent bystanders who get
in my way. In many ways, this is the litmus test for the bands
I encounter and Corrupt Moral Altar have passed with flying
colours. Long may they continue to prosper.
Mechanical Tides is out now on Season Of Mist.
corruptmoralaltar.com
bidolito.co.uk