#Bring me the horizon full

The end of year 11 prank every year was to beat the shit out of me. “I was the school punching bag,” he says. Now 33, he grew up in Stocksbridge, a small South Yorkshire town between Sheffield and Huddersfield. Tattoos cover his arms and creep around his face, as if he is only just keeping them at bay. We talk through it all in the vegan bar he owns in Sheffield, under the offices of his clothing company, Drop Dead. His passage through hoarse choruses to pop tunefulness reflects his own progress through a hellish childhood, addictions and divorce. Its slick pop was a long way from their roots, back when Sykes would demonically roar over fiddly riffs and stop-start rhythms. That 2018 album was their sixth since forming in Sheffield in 2004, and gave them their first UK No 1 and two Grammy nominations. “Our last album, Amo, we must have spent hundreds of thousands making that, and we’ve made this new one for nothing,” says Sykes. It makes sense, practically and aesthetically, for their “cyberpunk metal” to be built with software.

Seven of the nine tracks were made entirely during, and are often about, lockdown the new single Teardrops, on which Sykes yells “Oh God, everything is so fucked!” with exasperated terror, was inspired by rolling news during the pandemic, “how we allow ourselves to be traumatised by it every day, and it’s addictive”.īand members isolated from one another and collaborated over Zoom and FaceTime. The song is included on Bring Me the Horizon’s new EP Post Human: Survival Horror, which features brilliant apocalyptic pop with boyband-style melodies. Sykes castigates “all the king’s sources and all the king’s friends” who “don’t know their arses from their pathogens” and asks: “When we forget the infection / Will we remember the lesson?”

#Bring me the horizon full

Full of theatrical flourishes such as sirens, sneezes and dispassionate cyborg-overlord voices, its volatility – swinging from whispers to giant chords – is evocative of the chaos that has defined 2020. Parasite Eve was released in June and became the first great piece of art about the pandemic.