Toronto’s Malhavoc have never been content to stay within the boundaries of thrash metal. With The Masquerade’s Death, their first full-length since 2000, Jimi LaMort returns to Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death,” using its story to explore mortality, time and the divides between people. The six-song release also reconnects him with musicians from the band’s early days and embraces a deliberately human, imperfect approach to recording. We spoke with LaMort about revisiting a song written in the 1980s, his fascination with horror and cinema, the lessons he learned working with Tool, Nine Inch Nails and Voivod, and his ambitions for bringing this unsettling music to the stage.
Jose Cardona: The Masquerade’s Death takes inspiration from Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death,” a story in which wealth and isolation offer no protection from catastrophe. What drew you back to that particular story, and how did you translate its central idea into something that speaks to the world we live in today?
Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Masque of the Red Death” was the obvious choice. Besides being my favorite Poe story, it was also the last song we wrote together as the band in the ’80s. And I never liked the recording we made of it. When I started making this record, in the middle of the pandemic, and it just seemed the perfect idea. I fell in love with the idea that death is the great equalizer from a very early age. And I felt the collapse of modern society is going to happen very soon, mainly due to todays’s billionaires. So this story is more relevant now than ever before. Especially when I had just lost my roommate and closest friend, Phink, in the middle of the pandemic.
“The Masque of the Red Death” brings you back together with Dave C. and John C. to revisit the last song you wrote as a group in 1985. What do you remember about creating it originally, and what did recording it together again reveal about the musical chemistry you shared?
I knew the three of us had great chemistry. We had a jam room, we used to hang out in, after school, almost every night. We wrote that song in that jam room, and it brings brought back very fond memories. I miss those days of having a band, just hanging out and making music every day. Even though I knew from an early age I was a misanthrope. I realized through music, not every human is annoying. When we recorded it for Diabolical Force Records we weren’t comfortable in the studio, as all our previous recording were done in our basement. I think that song suffered the most. I also think almost everyone during the pandemic was reconnecting with old friends that they hadn’t talked to in years. I soon realized that chemistry was still there.
The record consists of six tracks built around a dark conceptual framework. Did you approach them as individual compositions connected by a common theme, or did you construct a larger dramatic arc in which the order of the songs is essential to the story?
The original song “The Masque of the Red Death” basically told the whole story. So the other five songs I wanted to talk about ideas that are based within that story. It came rather easily. Each song just focusses on a different element for the original story, and also they speak about a lot of different topics. But there are two main themes that run in every song, time and mortality. I really enjoyed fucking with time in every song. That was one of the most essential ideas. And it worked perfectly with putting a story to music.
You described “Respectfully Decline” as both the shortest song on the album and another direct expression of defiance. In the context of a record concerned with fear, mortality and social division, what exactly is being rejected in that song, and why did it feel right to introduce the album with it?
Respectfully decline was a rather simple idea. What if you got invited to hang out with someone like Trump, or in Toronto, Doug Ford? People that you can’t stand, who lived a very privileged life and have no concept of reality. It shows by their decision to have an extravagant soirée, while everyone else suffers. What would you do? Would you attend? And the funny thing is the lyrics basically say fuck off, but the sound effects at the end of the song tell a different story. You can hear the person walking up to the castle and entering the party. I mean, who doesn’t like to partay?
Titles such as “The Fact,” “The Harrow” and “Through the Cruel Light” suggest different responses to an unsettling reality. How do these songs develop the album’s emotional narrative, and is there a particular moment where the story shifts from observing the surrounding darkness to confronting it personally?
Yes, those three songs carry the bulk of the emotion within the album. “The Fact” is a fall on confrontation with death being in the room. And I get to be death for that song and enjoy my moment at the party. Whereas “Through The Cruel Light” is a very different vibe, but dealing with the aftermath of death. And it’s a subtle tribute to the great writer Charles Beaumont. “The Harrow” was heavily influenced by Ingmar Bergman‘s The Seventh Seal and Kafka’s short story In The Penal Colony. That song has a very dark sense of humor, like Kafka’s story. Make sure you check out the new film based on Franz Kafka, directed by the great director Agneiszka Holland. In her film Franz, she brought Kafka’s story to life on film. And it’s most excellent!
The music reconnects with Malhavoc’s thrash roots while incorporating industrial textures, horror-film atmospheres and more theatrical elements. When arranging these songs, how did you decide whether a passage needed the direct impact of a metal riff or the unease that could be created through sound design and restraint?
Deciding on the sound of those songs came quite naturally. For this album I wrote on guitar. It would always start with a riff. Then I jam on it till I have too much material. With today’s technology it is easy to add more textures or ideas. The problem was getting carried away and having too much. But that also is one of the elements of the album. The Masquerade’s Death is about extravagance.
Malhavoc began experimenting with samples and industrial elements at a time when that combination was far less established in metal. Looking back at The Release and Premeditated Murder, what do you believe your early experiments achieved that still feels distinctive today, and what creative challenges have changed as the technology has become more accessible?
The reason this album sounds retro is because I started listening to metal again. Basically, in the ’90s I stopped listening to it, cause I thought it was too technical, not lyrical and just too boring for me. And now I listen to all these bands, that now do what I wanted to do with this genre. I think the popular music scene has finally caught up to what I was doing in the late ’80s. That’s mainly because today’s technology has made it so much easier to do what I did back then.
You conceived, recorded and mixed the album yourself. Having that level of control can preserve a very personal artistic vision, but it also means there is no outside producer to challenge your decisions. How did you recognize when a song was finished, and were there moments when you deliberately chose to leave something raw or imperfect?
One of the biggest problems I’ve had is knowing when a song was finished. That’s why I brought in Rob “Fonzo” Sanzo, and he helped me complete the songs, when I felt they were done. There’s plenty of imperfections on this album. Once again, I intentionally did that because I really don’t like the way music is being made today. Where everything is mechanical. I’ve always loved the combination of perfection and imperfection, mechanical and human. Technology is good when limited.
The album connects different generations of Malhavoc through contributions from founding member Nigel Williams, guests Connor Lex Grant and Ian Mumble, and musicians such as Steve Jelliman and Lee McCormack. What did those different personalities bring to the recordings that you could not have achieved by handling every part alone?
I’ve always loved working with other musicians. Even all the albums I did by myself, I invited any friends that wanted to come over to add anything. There are many things on this album other people added, that I could never do. I’ve never considered myself a skilled musician. Bringing my friends over also creates a great atmosphere and one of the main reasons of why I love making music. I find 99 percent of humans quite ignorant and annoying. But when I get together with people I actually like, it gives me great pleasure and keeps me going. It is the real source of life and art.
Your work with Dave Ogilvie extended from Malhavoc recordings into remixes for artists such as Tool and Nine Inch Nails, and you also contributed production work to Voivod’s Phobos. Which lessons from those experiences have remained most useful when you are trying to make music sound both physically heavy and psychologically unsettling?
Working with such great bands as Tool, Nine Inch Nails, Voivod and Mötley Crüe has taught me a lot more about the technical side of recording and mixing, something that i never really did well. Now with the technology you have on a laptop, I can put to use everything I learned while working with such talented people. Those years I am quite proud of and I think it’s the best work I ever did. You can hear my personality on those mixes. And that’s something I always had, but now hopefully I can make music that is of a higher sound quality. This new album is just the first step.
Malhavoc’s concerts have long challenged the boundary between performance, provocation and genuine personal expression. After so many years onstage, has your understanding of what makes a performance truly confrontational changed, and how would you want the emotional world of this album to translate into a live setting?
I have a lot of ideas for performing the new record live, and it’s all visual! Dying to get someone to make me a stage costume based on Lon Cheney‘s outfit from Phantom of the Opera. The only problem with all these ideas I have for performing this new record is, it will be quite expensive. I would love to have a Gwar like moment during the song “The Fact,” shooting arterial spray everywhere. A gigantic clock of ebony placed in the center of a black and scarlet stage! At some point the clock strikes midnight and a sea of blood rushes out from inside the clock. One can dream, eh? I’m not sure if I could perform live this album visually the way I truly want to do it. Any investors out there wanna give me a call?
You are also developing Anthems for the New Flesh, a covers project inspired by David Cronenberg. What connects Cronenberg’s vision of horror and bodily transformation to the ideas you explore in Malhavoc, and what do you see as the next creative chapter for the band beyond these releases?
I think David Cronenberg and i have a lot in common. He brought a lot more modernity and intelligence to horror cinema, the same thing I tried to do with heavy metal music. Perhaps the main reason I started my band. Transformation is everything, something I will constantly explore. Also, it lets us have some fun transforming songs we love, like The Cramps’ “Human Fly.” I did that song in 1999. I wanted to do this cover album to bring in the new century, because I believe people were gonna just keep rehashing old music and the artform was gonna suffer in the future. Someone came forward and gave me cash to record that whole album, but all the money was spent doing that one song. Expect me to release these cover songs as b-sides on the upcoming new Malhavoc songs on our Bandcamp.
(interview published November 12, 2026)
