I first discovered Big Brave through their live performances, where the overwhelming wall of sound and Robin Wattie’s piercing vocals did more than just assault the ears—they seemed to reach deep into the souls of the audience. After delivering several powerful albums, the band surprised us with a collaboration with The Body, where they explored folk music. That release marked the beginning of a subtle yet consistent shift in the band’s sound. Since then, they’ve released two more albums and have already recorded another. I caught up with Robin just after their recent European tour. If you missed their concert in May, don’t worry—the band will return this autumn to play in Wrocław and Warsaw at the Avant Art Festival.
[MOŻESZ PRZECZYTAĆ TEN WYWIAD PO POLSKU]
I was eager to see how your most recent album, A Chaos of Flowers, would translate to a live performance. It’s notably quieter compared to your previous work. Were there any challenges in figuring out how to present this material on stage?
That’s a good question, because we didn’t know how to play these songs live after we recorded them because it was partially written while we were recording. It is not necessarily a quieter album. It is softer by way of not being as harsh and… I want to say angry-sounding? But just with regards to rhythm and beat and things like that, this was a softer, more flowing kind of stuff.
We were a bit concerned about how are we going to play this delicately and then we realized that we couldn’t play it softly. [laughter] We had to play it loud. For the first few shows we were uncertain, but we felt good and now that we did it for the first tour for this album we feel pretty good. I think we’re still a little bit uncertain because we’re just used to being forceful… So I think we’re still uncertain but happy.
Considering the natural evolution in A Chaos of Flowers, which has a softer and different tone, what direction do you see the band taking next?
Actually, we already recorded the next album last year! It was in August or September… We had planned another collaboration with The Body, but due to life circumstances, it didn’t work out. However, we kept the recording dates anyway and decided to see what would happen.
I won’t give away too much, but it’s completely different from anything you’ve heard from us before. It’s a big risk, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. There are vocals, but no actual words—mostly instrumental. It came about in a very organic way. It’s really, really different, and I’m nervous about how people will react, but I’m also very happy with it. It’s rare for me to feel satisfied with what we produce. Other than A Chaos of Flowers, Nature Morte and the collab we did with The Body—I feel very good about those.
Why are there no words?
It just kind of happened that way. Matheiu ended up making an instrument out of old piano strings—a really beautiful-sounding creation. It’s this long piece with the thick, lower-end strings of a piano. We brought that instrument to the recording studio, and each of us improvised on it. If we liked something, we’d hit record button. Then, we came up with the idea of creating a soundtrack for a film that doesn’t exist yet.
With that, the decision to have no words was never really made—it just felt natural. But I do vocalizations. There’s this artist I love, Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe, who does gorgeous soundtrack work and beautiful art in general. His vocalizations have been a huge inspiration for me and Matheiu for a long time. So, I wanted to explore what I could do vocally as an instrument rather than using words. That’s how it all came about—no words.
Wait. Did you really mean to say that you’re not happy with just the two albums you’ve released?
I know I probably shouldn’t be saying this out loud! [laughter] But I’ve always been this way. Whether it’s painting, drawing, or making music, it’s not that I’m not satisfied or happy with what I create—I just always feel like I want to do better and push myself further. I don’t really listen back to any of the albums unless I have to learn a song, so I actually forget what a lot of our past records sound like. It’s like looking at an old diary—sometimes it feels cringy. You realize it was good for the moment, and we were doing the best we could at that time, but it’s still a bit awkward to revisit.
That said, the last two albums are dear to me, and I’m happy with them because they’re so rooted in my reality—living in this body, in this country, doing what I do. And it’s not just my reality, but also the experiences of many of my dear friends and even some of the people who listen to the albums. So, I know it’s not just me, but at the same time, it’s very personal—yet not entirely a singular experience. I don’t know if that makes any sense.
It does make sense! But it’s kind of funny to me because I think of these albums as milestones in music. So it’s interesting that you don’t treasure them the way so many people do.
That’s so nice of you to say! A lot of people have said similar things about the earlier albums, and honestly, it’s the biggest compliment. But it’s funny because if someone else had made those albums, I know I’d probably feel the same way—I’d be like, „Holy fuck! You’re doing such cool, amazing work!” But since I’m the one who made them, I don’t have that perspective.
Is that because you feel shy, or is it more like imposter syndrome?
I think I just feel shy. I don’t really have imposter syndrome because I’m not fully aware of what people think—I have a general idea, but I don’t read reviews or dwell on the positive or negative feedback. The positive comments I do receive, though, are affirming and actually motivating. And because we work so hard, it just makes us want to work even harder and keep going. But I honestly have no idea what goes on in the outside world. Anytime someone says something nice about our music, it just makes me shy. Yeah, it just makes me shy. [laughter]
So you’re saying you’re very shy? Got it. I’d just like to remind you, that you are the lead singer in a band!
I know! [laughter] I never set out to sing or play in a band. It just worked out that way because Matheiu and I were roommates. Before I met him, I taught myself how to play six chords, and I’d sit in the living room with friends. One of them played the banjo, so we learned a bunch of bluegrass and country songs, got drunk, and sang together. Then I moved in with Matheiu and his friend. Since Matheiu had played shows before, he suggested, „Let’s play a show!” I agreed, but I was scared out of my mind. I almost threw up before every show for the first three years. But our friends were so supportive and encouraged us to keep going. And here we are!
Being in a band and playing in front of people has actually helped a lot with my social anxiety. I can talk to people more easily than I used to, but I’m still shy and still have social anxiety—just not as much now. I’ve gotten used to it, but if it weren’t for the band, I’d probably still be in a hole.
I completely understand. Meeting new people is extremely stressful for me, but I still end up doing interviews with strangers.
Oh my god, that’s right! How do you handle that? Do you just flip a switch or something?
Right before an interview, I’m often hoping they’ll forget or questioning why I’m even doing this. But as soon as the interview begins, those feelings fade away, and I start to feel more confident.
I relate so much to that. It’s impressive how you push through even when your instincts are saying “Stop!”
Likewise! Why are we doing this to ourselves?
I really don’t know! [laughter]
The shift in your music style began with your collaboration with The Body, which turned out great, by the way—I love that album! Were you apprehensive during the recording process, knowing it was so completely different from everything you had done before?
Yes, a thousand percent. I was worried the whole time. There were so many reasons for my concern, especially regarding how it would be received because it was so different. When we posted photos of both bands together in the studio, we got so many comments like, „Oh my god! This is going to be the heaviest record ever!” I remember sitting back on the couch, thinking, „They’re going to hate this!” If people were expecting something so heavy and then we came out with something completely different, I worried it wouldn’t meet their expectations at all.
I was worried, but it was so sweet because everyone in The Body, Seth Manchester, and my band were all like, „Who the fuck cares?” And I was like, „You’re right. I actually don’t care.” What really matters to me is the one person it touches in a way that makes them feel something good. That’s how I always approach releasing an album—if it resonates with someone, then we’ve done good work. It was reassuring to have everyone’s voice of reason, and it turned out that the album was really well received!
People who listen to heavy music are usually quite open to different genres. It’s often those who only stick to one specific genre who might not appreciate an artist trying something a bit different. Honestly, those aren’t the people I’m focused on or even friends with. [laughter] We’re really fortunate to have such wonderful listeners and a following with such big hearts.
It’s hard to pigeonhole Big Brave’s style of music. Which genre do you feel is the closest to what you’re playing?
I keep thinking about it, and I’m not sure. When someone asks me to describe our music and I need to assign a genre, it’s not like dealing with a customs agent at a border crossing where you just label it as rock and roll to keep things simple. It’s more about finding a way to convey the essence of our music in a way that people can understand, even if it doesn’t fit neatly into a single genre.
If someone is genuinely asking, I would describe our music as heavy and loud with minimal aspects. It’s not easy listening. You have to actively engage with it; it’s not something you can just put on in the background. I’ve noticed from the beginning that a common observation is that it takes a few listens to really understand our music. That’s why I say it’s not easy to listen to. I like to warn people because I don’t want them to feel bad if they listen and find they don’t like it. Not everyone’s music is meant for everyone, and I don’t blame them for that.
A couple of weeks ago, I came across a post asking about the best metal band in Canada. I commented „Big Brave.” You should have seen the army of people who rushed in to correct me, insisting that Big Brave is not metal!
That’s the thing! Some people categorize our music as „post-metal,” „post-doom,” „experimental,” or „avant-garde,” and I’m like, sure, okay. I think the main reason people initially labeled us as metal was because we were on a metal label. By association, people viewed us as a subgenre or offshoot of metal. But we never set out to create anything other than heavy, minimalistic music with tension and space. In fact, our early records even have some post-rock elements, so we’ve been classified under that umbrella too. But really I don’t think we’re metal. I don’t think we’re anything honestly, but have the ish.
I call it Roadburn-core.
That’s really cute! When we played Roadburn last time, some people said we embody Roadburn’s mantra of pushing the boundaries of heavy music. That’s such a huge compliment! It’s incredibly affirming and validating, and I’m really happy to wear that badge.
The main idea of A Chaos Of Flowers is extremely interesting. You were inspired by the words of women poets who were not so easy to find. Did you spend a lot of time researching this album? Do you immerse yourself the same way with each album?
For the first part of your question, yes, I do. As for the last part, unless it’s my own words, I spend months working on the lyrics right up until I’m recording the actual vocals, and even then, I might make changes. For this album, I did a lot of research, as well as for the collaboration with The Body. For A Chaos of Flowers, we developed the concept before we even started writing the music, and I dove in head first. I was thinking about expanding on what we did with The Body, particularly with regard to incorporating elements of folk music and similar influences. But I quickly realized that I wanted to keep that aspect with The Body. If we collaborate with them again in the future, we might continue exploring that direction. For now, it felt right to leave it there, as it didn’t quite fit with what was emerging from the concept.
Then I started researching public domain poems, and it was mostly by long-dead white men. While some of that work is undeniably beautiful, I found that I could only relate to it so much. It made me wonder, where are the women? Before I knew it, I had spent two months collecting the works of various poets—some I had forgotten about, and others I was just discovering. I quickly realized that there was a common thread running through the works of all these poets.
Regardless of class and race, there was a common thread that emerged. To use terms that are perhaps overused but still relevant for this interview, many of these poets were deeply affected by patriarchal culture. This influence was not limited to women and people of color; it also had a profound impact on men. I observed this pattern across centuries, cultures, ethnicities, and social classes.
Today, I find that I can relate deeply to all the works I came across. It led me to think about patriarchy, capitalism, and other related issues. Since Nature Morte’s lyrical concept is heavily based on the subjugation of femininity in all its forms—both environmental and human—it felt like a natural extension of these reflections. This was such a great sibling-album to Nature Morte. While Nature Morte represents the cause—what happens to people like us—A Chaos of Flowers explores the effects. Those effects manifest as mental collapse and heartache. In this context, there is beauty and a sense of love, but also a melancholy and eerie quality that reflects the world and our deeply private experiences. While these experiences can feel incredibly lonely, reading these works one after another revealed that we are, in fact, not alone.
It was validating but also deeply saddening, as it highlighted that, despite everything, nothing has truly changed. If anything, things are just being uncovered now. People often say the world is getting worse, but I think it’s always been this way. It’s just that we now have the means to share and access information in real time. The issues we face have always existed, and humanity has always had these struggles. It’s not new; it’s just more visible now.
Now you can literally watch a live stream from a war or genocide.
Exactly. It’s disheartening to see some people still surprised by such events, as if they’re a new phenomenon. The world has always been fraught with problems; it’s just that our access to information now makes it more apparent. This reality extends to the mental health crisis. The high rates of depression and anxiety among people reflect a broader issue. I recently went down a rabbit hole of watching „Karen” videos on Instagram, where people were reacting in outrage to minor inconveniences. It was a sad reflection of how people are struggling to process their emotions and stress. This outburst of anger and frustration seems to be a symptom of a deeper, unresolved emotional turmoil in our culture.
Our culture often fails to address emotions like anger and sadness healthily, leading to negative expressions and behaviors. This lack of emotional processing contributes to a range of societal issues, from mass shootings to general discontent.
Let’s move on to some lighter topics.
Yes.
You never learned how to sing.
I never learned how to sing formally. I didn’t even know I could sing until I was belting out tunes in the living room with friends while drunk. Singing like that is just fun and effortless. I didn’t really understand how to use my voice properly, and I’m still discovering what I can do, which is actually quite enjoyable. I did consider taking vocal lessons to practice and maintain vocal health, but instead, I chose to research ways to keep my voice healthy on my own. Even then, I don’t do any specific vocal exercises.
You should!
Yeah, it’s one of those things where if someone tells me I should do something, my immediate reaction is to say, „No, don’t tell me what to do.” [laughter] I don’t know why, but I’ve always been like that. If someone suggests I read a book, my instinct is to resist. Then, years later, I might finally read it and think, “Oh, that was a great book.” I’m glad I read it, but it takes me a while to get there.
It’s really hard to believe that you never learned to sing professionally. Especially on the last album, where you do amazing things with your voice.
It was a vocal risk for this album, considering what I had in mind. Whenever I tried out the vocals, I always sought feedback from the band and from Seth. I appreciate their input, though I don’t always follow it. If I’m confident in a decision and believe strongly in it, I’ll stick with my choice. The feedback I received was overwhelmingly positive—everyone was surprised and impressed, saying things like, “Wow, I didn’t know you could do that!” Honestly, I didn’t know I could do that either!
The positive feedback encouraged me to give it a try. I did have some concerns because it was such a departure from what I’m used to, but I’ve always wanted to explore singing in a different way—not just in this band, but in general. I wanted to sing songs rather than just use my voice as a texture or belt out notes. So, I took the opportunity to push my vocal abilities further on this record, especially compared to the collaboration with The Body. I’m glad I did because it worked out really well.
I have one more question. It’s about Seth Manchester. He produced music for so many bands I love and everyone talks so highly of him. Why is working with him such a pleasure?
What I really love is that he listens to everything. He might not love it all, but he pays attention and absorbs it like air. I deeply appreciate that, especially because Matheiu is the same way—constantly consuming music. I’m slower in comparison; I still live the ’90s! [laughter] In the music industry, having someone who genuinely listens to and enjoys music is rare. This is especially true in live music settings, where people often work long hours for little pay and can be less pleasant to work with.
But Seth is different. He brings passion and conviction, which is not something you see often. Over the years of working with him, I’ve witnessed his enjoyment of experimenting and his enthusiasm for trying new things. He often already knows what he wants to achieve, but he actively listens to what we’re doing and offers insightful suggestions, like using a particular mic in a specific way to enhance the sound etc.
If I were a millionaire, I’d give him all my money! He’s embraced part of our work ethic, which is to never say no to trying something new. We believe that it’s always worth experimenting—there’s no such thing as a stupid idea. Even if we don’t end up using something, it often leads to another idea or something entirely new.
For us, he’s like an unofficial fourth member of the band. Without him, our trajectory would have been different since we started recording with him. A lot of our recorded sound is due to his contributions. He brings out the best in our performances and ideas. Even when we don’t agree or use something he might not like, it’s still valuable because it challenges our convictions and pushes us to grow. We definitely have our disagreements, but they’re constructive. That’s exactly what you want in a collaborator.
All pictures made by Agata Hudomięt
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