Interview / Concrete Age

I first came across Concrete Age through a video a friend shared, and it immediately caught my attention. The song featured the oud, an instrument predominantly recognized today as Arabic, though its origins stretch back thousands of years to ancient Mesopotamia and neighboring regions. This rich historical context fascinated me, especially as the instrument was seamlessly integrated into a heavy metal track. Intrigued, I explored more of their music and discovered a band that pushes creative boundaries, blending ethnic influences with the raw energy of thrash and death metal.

Concrete Age was formed in 2011 in Mineralnye Vody, a city in the North Caucasus region of Russia, before relocating to London in 2014. Their music combines ancient traditions, ethnic instruments, and themes from old-world cultures with the intensity of modern metal. Over the years, their sound has evolved significantly, from the more traditional heavy metal tones of Time to Awake (2012) and Under the Concrete Sun (2016) to the deeply experimental and ethnically infused sounds of their later work. Now firmly rooted in the global metal scene, Concrete Age continues to explore and redefine what it means to fuse culture and metal.

Let’s start with the early days. When did you first start playing instruments, and what did you start with? Was it a traditional instrument or something more modern like a guitar?

I was around 11 or 12 years old. My first instrument was a simple classical guitar. At that time, I didn’t even think about traditional instruments.

Growing up, what kind of music did you listen to at home with your family? Did any of it influence your music today?

My father often listened to New Age music—bands like Gregorian, Enigma, and Delerium. We travelled a lot as a family, and this music always accompanied us in the car. Perhaps that’s why there are so many trance-like "grooves" in Concrete Age’s tracks. That music held a special place in my heart and still does today.

As for metal influences, I owe everything to my older brother, who introduced me to bands like Manowar, Accept, Slayer, and Fear Factory. These bands remain some of my favourites and undoubtedly shaped the metal foundation of the Concrete Age.

Were there specific moments or experiences in your childhood that sparked your passion for music, particularly heavy metal?

As I mentioned earlier, the main influences came from my father and older brother. We have a close family, which provided a strong foundation for my musical journey. My older brother played electric guitar, and he had surprisingly good technique for the limited learning resources available at the time.

He was also meticulous about equipment and managed to acquire instruments that no one else in our town had. I admired his playing and wanted to play like him, so I asked my parents for a simple classical guitar. Once I got it, I started taking lessons from a local teacher.

That lasted about five lessons because I realised that playing the guitar also required learning music theory! I wanted no part of that and quickly quit music school to continue teaching myself. Later, during my time in music college, I eventually picked up basic music theory. However, even now, I prefer playing by ear because sight-reading still takes me too long.

I saw a video of you playing the oud, which is an instrument with ancient Mesopotamian origins but is often recognized today as Arabic. What led you to include it in that performance, and how does it connect to your musical vision?

I only discovered the oud recently. I was browsing through my playlists and stumbled upon its mesmerizing sound—it was ancient, mysterious, and deeply philosophical. After hearing it, musical ideas started flooding into my head. Once I saw the wide variety of playing techniques on the oud, I had no doubt about getting one for myself.

However, it wasn’t the first traditional instrument to inspire me. When I was 19, I heard throat singing for the first time and thought, “It’d be amazing to incorporate this into metal.” That was right before recording our debut album, Time to Awake, which came out in 2011. Teaching myself throat singing took a lot of effort, but you can hear it on the track “Nature Calls.”

After that, I started collecting traditional instruments. I first bought a Tibetan singing bowl, which I used on the intro of our debut album. Then came an Australian didgeridoo and a djembe, both of which can be heard on the track “Voices of Nations.” Even today, my collection is slowly growing, all for one purpose: Concrete Age.

Listening to your earlier albums, such as Time to Awake and Under the Concrete Sun, there’s a more traditional heavy metal feel. In contrast, your recent albums feature much more ethnic instrumentation and influence. Was this shift a conscious artistic decision, and did moving to London play a role in that evolution?

Time to Awake and The Temple of the Sacred Spirit were my first steps towards Ethnic Metal. The genre could have developed even faster, but moving to London initially discouraged me from working in that direction. Finding spiritual inspiration in such a massive city was challenging.

That’s how Under the Concrete Sun came to life. However, in 2017, I visited my hometown for the first time in three years. Breathing the mountain air and reconnecting with the energy of home made me realize it was time to return to my musical roots. With renewed strength, I added more ethnic elements and made the sound heavier. That visit inspired the creation of The Totem of the Great Snake.

Your music blends ethnic instruments with thrash and death metal. How do you approach balancing these intense genres with the subtler, atmospheric tones of traditional instruments?

Finding the right balance is the hardest part of writing music for Concrete Age. When one element overshadows the other, it leads to weak tracks that end up being unusable for albums. I have a folder full of such tracks that will probably never see the light of day. I’m not even sure why I keep them! Occasionally, I’ll listen to them and think, “What if…” but then quickly decide, “No, definitely not.”

When I’m in the right creative state for Concrete Age, I can compose an entire album in a month or two, complete with arrangements—except for vocals, which are a whole other story. Outside of that state, achieving the signature Concrete Age sound is incredibly difficult. So I either wait patiently or work on music for other projects, like games or side projects.

The song "Isis Flower" has a vibrant, upbeat energy. How do fans physically respond to it during live performances, especially since it doesn’t feel like a typical mosh-pit song?

It’s a fun, energetic track to play live. People start dancing as if they’re at a disco, and it’s a joy to watch. However, as our setlist grows, there’s simply no room for it anymore. That’s the downside of having such a big discography—ha!

Using traditional ethnic instruments on stage can be logistically challenging, especially when touring. How do you manage the transportation and setup of such unique equipment?

This is always a pain point since we travel in our personal vehicles. Thankfully, my current car can fit all the merch, ethnic instruments, and my regular setup, including my amp and guitar.

But the setup process is an even bigger headache than the logistics. Most London stages barely have room for a four-piece band, let alone all our gear! Now imagine having only 15–20 minutes between bands to set everything up—for a 30–45 minute set. When we take the stage, we look like a SWAT team—every move is rehearsed, and everyone knows their mission. It’s a real test!

When you moved to London in 2014, how did the local metal scene initially react to your unique sound? How has that reception evolved over the years?

It was difficult to find our first gig because no one understood who we were or how to approach our music. The UK metal scene is quite conservative and doesn’t always embrace experimentation. However, the underground scene here now knows who we are and invites us willingly. At our shows, our energy is enough to fuel several sets ahead.

What are some of the most memorable venues you’ve played in London, and what makes them special?

I think, first and foremost, it’s the now-closed Unicorn, which was one of the first venues to give us a chance to perform at the start of our journey. It had good capacity and a friendly staff. Next, I’d like to highlight our favorite, The Dev in Camden, which always welcomes us and gives us great time slots. The staff and crew there are amazing and truly care about musicians.

The London metal scene is incredibly diverse. Have you found opportunities to collaborate with or draw inspiration from local artists?

We had such opportunities, and before COVID, we often worked with other bands because it made organizing concerts easier. However, when it comes to musical collaborations, we tend to keep to ourselves.

I haven’t gone through your entire discography as deeply as I’d like, but I’ve been gravitating toward your 2023 album Bardo Thodol. I have a few questions about it. First, what does the title mean, and how does it reflect the themes of the album? Second, I felt this album had a more Middle Eastern influence. Am I mistaken, or did you use specific instruments or stylistic approaches to achieve that sound? Lastly, what makes Bardo Thodol different from your previous albums, and how did you creatively approach putting it together?

Bardo Thodol is the Tibetan Book of the Dead. It describes the states and stages that a person’s consciousness goes through, starting from the process of physical death to the moment of reincarnation. Many tracks on this album touch on the theme of death but from a philosophical perspective.

This album was written during a period of personal loss and dark moments in my life. It has a strong Balkan folk influence, with a slight touch of the Middle East as well. What sets this album apart is its cohesiveness. In earlier works, you could find a mix of different cultures, but this time, the focus was mainly on one.

When I was writing the album, I thought it would turn out mediocre. I felt like that until the rest of the band sent me their parts—some guitar solos from Boris and basslines from Giovanni. When I finished the final mix, I realised it’s one of the best works of Concrete Age.

Your lyrics often touch on spirituality and ancient cultural themes. How do you make these resonate with a global audience while staying authentic to their origins?

When I write lyrics, I rely on my internal feelings and experiences—often very personal ones that I can’t easily discuss in conversations. Perhaps people sense this sincerity, which is why they connect with the lyrical side of Concrete Age. Lyrics play a foundational role in the process of creating compositions, at least for me.

Across your discography, your sound has evolved significantly. Are there any cultural influences or instruments you’re particularly excited to explore in future projects?

We might return to blending cultures, but with a different approach. Not in the sense that each track represents a specific culture, but rather by transforming everything into a unified whole, where each instrument plays parts that aren't strictly tied to its cultural origins.

It might turn out like that—or it could be something entirely different. As long as nature gives me the strength to create, I feel grateful for it and aim to create something unique and my own.