Enter Shikari’s albums normally begin with a tirade. The band describes its music as “socially conscious” and the openings of its albums are always quintessential evidence of this, whether addressing environmental issues, as in A Flash Flood of Colour, or calling for solidarity in Common Dreads. Their new album, The Mindsweep, released on 19th January, follows in the same vein; in fact it is more explicit than ever, opening with “an appeal to the struggling and striving.” Despite achieving more mainstream success after their last album, peaking at number four in the album charts, it is clear that Enter Shikari’s colours have not changed.

When I interviewed Enter Shikari earlier this month, they told me that The Mindsweep differs from previous albums in that the “orchestral instruments are real and not sampled as before,” and is “a tad more passionate and determined than Flash Flood.” Listening to the album for the first time, this is clear from the outset; in ‘The Appeal & The Mindsweep I’, Rou bellows: “there was never a broadcast made of such urgency.” Their album consists of regular diatribes against the establishment, most explicitly in ‘Anaesthetist’, which expresses fears regarding the privatisation of the NHS, culminating in the impassioned threat: “you want to profit off our health, step the f**k back.”

Enter Shikari is very politically engaged, so I asked how they choose what issues to write their music about: “Usually after the music begins to take shape you can get a feel for what emotions the piece will evoke and maybe which subjects it may gravitate towards lyrically.” Their newest album also reprimands the Bank of England and outdated class divisions, and laments the myopia of our generation as a beluga whale.

Discussing the widespread political apathy in Britain today, the band said:
“It’s hard to encourage excitement about something that, on the surface, is boring (even the word ‘politics’ is usually greeted with a yawn from most) and it’s also hard to trigger interest in something that doesn’t involve people at all. One vote every few years is not a situation conducive to interest; this system breeds apathy.

The Ancient Greeks would laugh at what we now call ‘democracy’, a word that derives from the Greek, ‘Demokratia’. In their truly participatory democracy, anyone politically/socially apathetic was labelled ‘idiotes’; the root of our modern word, idiot.

What we try and do with our music isn’t just enrage people but embolden and empower them, the more included and worthy people feel, the more interested and determined they’ll become. Another way to slap people out of apathy is to present them with future possibilities or alternative systems. This is another thing we try to accomplish through supporting such organisations as the Zeitgeist Movement. Nye Bevan (the founder of the NHS) once said ‘Discontent arises from the knowledge of the possible, rather than the knowledge of the actual.’ The minute you show people a viable and realistic alternative that is based in equality and sustainability using the latest technology we have, people will demand it becomes reality, just like free wifi or the latest phone upgrade.”

In his New York Times article (How Has the Social Role of Poetry Changed Since Shelley?), Adam Kirsch states: “Poets in our time prefer to imagine themselves not as legislators, but as witnesses – those who look on, powerless to change the world, but sworn at least to tell the truth about it.” Whether or not you are aligned with the left wing of the political spectrum, their belief in the power of culture to shape our society is refreshing. In a Britain where politicians are failing to speak a language that the people understand, the “socially conscious” music of Enter Shikari is especially pertinent.

Although their music often addresses serious subject matter, the band certainly know how to have a laugh. The iTunes bonus track ‘Slipshod’ is about poor restaurant service and is accompanied by a charming animated music video. Moreover, when I asked Rou why he had got rid of his dashing beard, he responded: “I found myself becoming unrelentingly sexually attractive to the opposite sex. Just nipping out to get milk and cereal in the morning became an unyielding assault course of female yearning.”

The band has featured at the Reading and Leeds festivals for nearly a decade, and is renowned for the calibre of its performances, having won Best Live Band awards from AIM and Kerrang. I asked what their most memorable performance was: “I guess the obvious answer would be any of the years we’ve played Main Stage at Reading. Purely on account of it being the festival I’d frequent as a punter and just feels like home base to us [sic]. We always get butterflies before going on and the audience is always energised and dedicated for us.”

For those unfamiliar with Enter Shikari’s music, it is difficult to classify it according to traditional genres. Their blend of post-hardcore, electronic, and alternative metal, often breaking into trance, metalcore, drum and bass and dubstep, makes them consistently exciting to watch perform. They are already famous for their human pyramids and electric mosh pits, and hold a record number of crowd surfers. I asked whether they had any new tricks planned; they responded: “The ‘Where’s Rory C’ where the lights go down and Rory scuttles off somewhere in the venue and first person to find him wins a meet and greet with our mate Filthy Jon.”

I will certainly be searching for Rory, the band’s guitarist, when Enter Shikari perform on 24th February at the Cambridge Corn Exchange. This one is not for the faint-hearted, nor the closed-minded.