Black Anvil Is American Black Metal With an Attitude

Paul Delaney is one of the most honest, down-to-earth musicians you’ll ever meet. The lead singer and bassist of longtime New York City black-metal band Black Anvil is quick to drop a couple of curse words here or there whenever he’s trying to make a point, and doesn’t shy away from talking about a subgenre that is an enigma cloaked in controversy to most outsiders.

Speaking about the 1990s Scandinavian black-metal scene, which is notorious for a spate of murders and anti-Christian church burnings that many still associate with the niche musical style, Delaney sees some societal similarities between Norway and NYC back then.

“I really see a huge connection [between] New York in the ’90s and Norway in the ’90s, in the sense that people were angry, people got killed. Shit was very dangerous. A lot of people didn’t feel comfortable in normal society and clung to something that was different,” he explains, adding that the two black-metal subcultures are “totally different genres and end goals, but there’s not that much difference.”

“Shit was crazy here and shit was crazy there," Delaney notes. "We come from crazy parts of the world. I would lose my mind if I had a winter when there was like four hours of sunlight, too. I would be mad and go burn a fucking building.”

That “hardcore tough-guy shit” Delaney mentions is in reference to his homegrown roots, which he shares with fellow founding member and drummer Raeph Glicken. Bands like Madball and Agnostic Front were dominating New York City’s underground with a metallic brand of hardcore. Detractors bring up that type of background like it’s a bad thing, but the Black Anvil boys take pride in it, and Delaney isn’t afraid to fire back.

“This metal scene in New York, I see fraudulence in it, and I try to tiptoe around that and not be offensive and seem like some jaded asshole,” he says. “I don’t know. I don’t see much of a community. I see a very on-the-surface scene that’s more about a party. We didn’t do this to have a party and have fun.”

No, they didn't. Since 2007, Black Anvil has been as “trve” as any other black-metal band that’s doing it. With a mix of early influences such as Emperor and Deathspell Omega and its hardcore ethos, the three-piece, which includes guitarist Jeremy Sosville, is one of the best American black-metal bands ever. If you don’t want to take our word for it, look at the group’s list of tour mates over the years, particularly Scandinavian forefathers Mayhem, Marduk and Watain.

Black Anvil is currently on the road supporting a couple of other European powerhouses in Enslaved and Insomnium. The tour stops in Denver tonight, April 14, at the Gothic Theatre.

Despite making a name for themselves and carving out a new faction of black metal — New York black metal — Delaney isn’t necessarily satisfied. 

“We put in the work because we need to, and we want to. There’s a reward in putting in that work. I don’t ever feel like the work is done,” he says. “I never feel the work is done. No matter who you are, no matter what you are in this thing, there’s always work. We’re not above each other. We’re always at each other’s side.”

Chatting while in the car with Glicken, whom he considers family, Delaney expresses an emotion not often associated with corpse paint and black leather: “I personally really do enjoy doing this every day. I enjoy it because when I look to my left, I have a brother who I love. I wouldn’t enjoy it if I didn’t have love involved. Then it would become purely work, and I would just not fucking do it,” he says.

The trio of musicians is about as New York as anything. Delaney’s bluntness during the interview is refreshing, if a little abrasive. But that’s exactly what you can expect at a Black Anvil show, too. It’s a “110 percent” effort every night, he adds, without being cocky or aloof.

“I know for a fact that we’ll force whatever we can down your throat. It’s something that we can’t help,” Delaney says. “The second the first note hits, it’s like a possession, and we can’t control ourselves. It’s good for me that this many years later that I feel that when I play with these guys. When we play together, that fire still ignites the second that we play. That’s what you’ll get from us: You’ll get honesty and reality.”

If you’re still on the fence about this whole New York black-metal thing, the band’s latest album, Regenesis (2022, via Season of Mist), is a nice introduction to Black Anvil’s brand of brutality before deciding whether or not to experience the power trio face-to-face. The new music is stripped down and aggressive, which is something Delaney says was intentional, in an effort to get back to the bare bones of black metal without being too derivative or trite.

“We grew up with scenes that were very high-energy and high-output. That’s just been ingrained in us,” he adds. “There’s energy when we play; we sort of can’t help that. It’s like unleashing the beast out of the cage for a little while.”

Black Anvil, 7 p.m. Friday, April 14, Gothic Theatre, 3263 South Broadway. Tickets are $28.50.