Lessons in Chaos: Class Traitor in Conversation

Class Traitor’s music feels like a collision of despair and defiance. How would you describe the emotional core of your sound, and why does it resonate so strongly in Melbourne’s metal scene?

I think we’re trying to make music that feels like an honest expression, and an earnest response to the world around us. One of the strongest feelings we’re exposed to is dismay; a sort of panic and desperation welling up in response to the atrocities we’re complicit in, the enormous collapsing structures of the world, and our total inadequacy in trying to change these things.

There’s a penchant for introspection in this band which feeds into that feeling, but it also lends itself to more dreamlike and surreal expressions. So, in our lighter moments, we can be cathartic and self-affirming in a way. There’s a dry sense of humour buried there as well.

What inspired the formation of Class Traitor, especially given your members’ backgrounds in bands like Munt, Bøg, and Plovers? How do those influences shape your music?

Class Traitor started out trying to be super gross and as heavy as possible, and somewhere along the way we realised that songwriting and emotional heft were more important than walls of sludge on their own.

Everyone’s other projects can be heard in this band, or at least it seems obvious to me from the inside. What’s different about Class Traitor is that it’s quite a stream-of-consciousness project. We work things out as we go and allow the music to change and develop as it needs to, rather than having a defined goal at the outset.

It can be unpredictable and inconvenient, but it’s often rewarding.

From Calving to The Images Aren’t Mine, your music has grown darker and more intricate. What’s driving this evolution, and how do you push boundaries without losing your raw edge?

The rawness is dyed in the wool for this band; you’d be hard-pressed to produce a really polished Class Traitor record. No one in the band wants perfection more than they want expressiveness, and when you multiply that impulse by the four of us, things can get pretty chaotic. So there’s a constant process of balancing that against writing functional, structured songs.

I think something that helps us innovate is self-imposed limitations. We really want to write live-orientated songs, so there’s not loads of overdubbing or extra instrumentation. I’ve also actively avoided recruiting a second guitarist. All my previous projects have had two guitars, and that gives you a lot of options for developing a song across the two parts. Forcing myself to write interesting and melodic guitar parts with only one set of hands has driven a lot of creativity.

Your live shows are legendary for their intensity. What’s the secret to creating that immersive, almost ritualistic experience for your audience?

I think that sense of collective immersion only comes about in stages. First, and most importantly for me, is to forget that the crowd is there, forget that it’s a performance, and just focus on the music. Once you relax and sink into the feeling of the songs, it starts to feel like a natural expression.

Then, if people in the crowd catch on that you’re not just going through the motions, they start taking the songs as seriously as you are. And then you’re in conversation together, and there’s a feedback loop of energy, and that can create some incredibly potent moments.

Take it seriously, don’t be self-indulgent, be in the moment, and then it usually works.

The crowd at your shows often looks like they’ve been through a storm. How do you feed off their energy, and how does it shape what unfolds on stage?

A little bit of exhaustion is a good outcome. Being able to blow off steam and externalise some feelings which typically aren’t expressed is a big benefit for us, and hopefully for the audience as well. Bands like Sunn O))) and Amenra, or locals YLVA and Sundr, who summon these immensely deep atmospheres through their performances, are big influences on us.
If we can create a vibe strong enough for the other people in the room to resonate with, then we’re happy.

What are you most looking forward to about this national tour? Are there any unique aspects of the Australian experimental music scene that excite you?

Australia’s heavy music scene is incredibly strong overall, but some of its best elements are the niche little micro-scenes that exist in specific towns. Singing Bird in Frankston is pretty much an institution at this point. There are loads of talented bands down there, and I don’t think we’ve ever had a bad show on that stage. Also, Newcastle. I love playing Newcastle. Something about that crowd is genuinely engaging and welcoming in a way I really appreciate.

What tracks from The Images Aren’t Mine are you especially excited to unleash live?

High & Plenty Intersection is hard to play, but it has become a really fun live tune. Reabandoned is a favourite; it comes out differently every time we play it.

How did the collaboration with Lily of the Valley come about for this tour? What do you think their sound brings to the lineup?

Playing in our weird little niche means it’s not always easy to find other bands to play with that fit the bill, and when we do find one, it’s super exciting. Lily are emotional, intense, and bewilderingly heavy when they want to be—basically all the things we like. Also, they were kind enough to get us on their album launch show back in February, so it’s nice to be able to return the favour.

How do you think the combination of your sets and Lily of the Valley’s will shape the overall experience for fans attending the tour?

Hopefully total devastation.

What’s next for Class Traitor after this tour? Any new albums, collaborations, or experiments in the works?

Usually, the post-tour plan is 12 unbroken hours of sleep, followed by 36 hours devoid of any human contact. After that, there are some scattered shows already being booked for later in the year, and a handful of new song ideas with no real deadline on them. I’d like to record something live in one take, maybe a split. We’ll have to wait and see.