Artist Feature: Infinity Knives & Brian Ennals
“While we’re not revolutionaries, we’d like to be the soundtrack for those who are,” says Brian Ennals, one half of the MC-producer duo with Infinity Knives (born Tariq Ravelomanana). Since the release of their 2020 debut "Rhino XXL", the Baltimore-based act’s mixture of genre-defying production and uncompromising, irreverent lyrics – addressing systemic racism, social injustice, and state violence – has seen them gain a cult following across the globe.
In 2022, they released "King Cobra", an exhilarating project that explored the artists’ idiosyncratic styles through warped, 80s-style synths and folk-tinged melodies, punctuated by Ennals’ razor-sharp raps. The project culminated in a global tour, with the European leg supported by Carhartt WIP.
This April, Infinity Knives & Brian Ennals returned with "A City Drowned in God's Black Tears" on UK label Phantom Limb. Sonically and lyrically, the album advances their experimental approach, with Ennals’ ever incendiary verses tearing through Knives’ soundscape of glitchy electronics, psych-folk, doom metal, cumbia, and soul.
For this month’s episode of Carhartt WIP Radio, the duo created a mix featuring numerous collaborative works, old and new. Alongside it is an interview with Ennals, who talks about being a misanthrope, the role of humor in his lyrics, and what made the new album so “acidic.”
How did the two of you first start working together? What drew you to each other creatively?
Brian Ennals: We started working together in 2018 after being friends for about five years. Tariq reached out to me when he was just starting producing, around 2013, after I had just released an album called Candy & Cigarettes. By the time we started working together, he was a master producer, but I was ready to quit rap and be a family man, like I lost to Guile in Street Fighter. Tariq had always loved my raps, so it was a no-brainer to start cooking some real crazy shit.
How would you describe your creative process as a duo? Who brings what to the table?
Brian Ennals: On a base level, Tariq brings the music and I bring the words. There are overlaps – Knives gives me concepts all the time, and I’ll occasionally make suggestions on where to take a production. But for the most part, that’s where it stands; him on beats, me on rhymes (I think he secretly wants to be a rapper sometimes though).
Does your collaboration function more as a traditional producer-rapper dynamic, or is it something more fluid?
Brian Ennals: I think what’s typical nowadays is a producer sends a rapper a pack of beats, the rapper starts to write, and they take it from there. But me and Knives build each song from the ground up together, so I’d say fluid is a good word.
What’s the biggest thing you’ve learned from each other through working so closely?
Brian Ennals: That we’re both misanthropes. Generally nice guys that tend to see the worst and best in things simultaneously. We’ve learned that there's no point in half-assing anything. And we’ve learned that we’re good apart, but probably at our best together.
Your music defies easy genre categorization. How would you describe your sound?
Brian Ennals: Next shit. Next level shit. Hard shit that’s not scared to get bouncy or melodic. It’s us trying to topple the zeitgeist and bend it to our will. At its core it’s hip hop, but we don’t get held down by the expectations of genre.
Do you think your music fits comfortably in the broader hip hop landscape, or is it operating on its own terms?
Brian Ennals: No, it doesn’t fit at all. And we could make shit that does, but why do that? To be clear, I’m not some rap nerd that shits on mainstream hip hop; it’s just not what we do. We’re not wired that way. We’re weird people so we make weird shit that also happens to be dope.
Your lyrics are often sharp, ironic, and politically loaded. How do you approach writing them?
Brian Ennals: I’m just writing how I talk and think, literally. I’ll think of something that makes me laugh, or I’ll have a thought after something pisses me off, and I build a rhyme off of it. Sometimes Tariq gives me a specific concept, sometimes I’m left to my own devices. I don’t overthink, I just try to make sure I’m rhythmically on point, while also making sure I’m saying shit that hits people directly in the chest.
Humour and absurdity play a big role, too. How important is satire in your work?
Brian Ennals: I don’t know if satire is a goal. But humour is for sure. There’s got to be some soda to help the medicine go down. It’s not difficult to do, because I think I’m pretty fucking funny – although there’s probably some people that wouldn’t agree with that.
What kinds of stories or messages do you feel compelled to tell that aren't being told in mainstream rap?
Brian Ennals: I’m not driven by any particular desire to fill in the “gaps” of what is or isn’t going on in mainstream rap. I just know what I need to say and what makes sense to me. Hip hop is so fractured right now (in a good way) that I’m honestly not even sure what “mainstream” is, to be honest.
Are there any lyrics or verses that felt especially cathartic or risky to write?
Brian Ennals: Oh, the "The Iron Wall" on our latest project, "A City Drowned in God's Black Tears", for sure. It’s a treatise on the current genocide that’s being committed on Palestinians. I don’t have to tell you why that’s a risky endeavour. We toured with Kneecap last year, and we’ve all seen the bullshit they’re currently dealing with. The “The Iron Wall” was written and released before said bullshit, but we knew what we were dealing with. There’s something cathartic about that, too, knowing that you’re just a regular dude that also happens to be speaking truth to power. Or at least making an honest attempt to do so.
Much of your music takes direct aim at systemic racism, inequality, and capitalism. What role does politics play in your artistic vision?
Brian Ennals: I consider myself fairly aware of what’s going on in the world, particularly in the US, obviously. So it’s not part of my artistic vision really, but all the things you mentioned are unavoidable if you’re even a little aware of what the fuck is going on outside. So my verses come out like that because those things are what’s happening. I don’t write about them because I’m some sort of activist, I write about them because I have to write my worldview, and those things are a part of it.
How do you hope your audience engages with the political content in your work?
Brian Ennals: I hope they love it. I hope it inspires them to do something. I’ve said this before, but while we’re not revolutionaries, we’d like to be the soundtrack for those who are. I also hope it encourages them to buy tickets, vinyl and merch because I’m pretty poor right now.
Have you received any pushback because of the messages in your songs?
Brian Ennals: Our latest album is the first time I’ve heard real critique of some of the shit I say. Real anger at some of the lines. But most of the critiques are either in bad faith or coming from assholes, so it’s hitting the right nerves, which is the goal, right?
How did the writing and recording of this album differ from your previous work King Cobra?
Brian Ennals: "King Cobra" was us together a lot: listening to music, going to diners, getting high and then figuring shit out as a pair. "God's Tears" was not that; life shit and whatnot. I was not my best self in 2024, and solitude was the result of that. So I’d come to the studio, lay my verses and dip, and that was that. But we still managed to get the job done. And I’m not sure if we’d have made something as acidic as this if we had done it the same as we did King Cobra.
How do you translate such layered music to a live environment?
Brian Ennals: Tariq and Frankie [Malvaiz], one of our engineers, created this modulator that we perform with. It allows Knives to do really ill shit with my vocals during performances. And Knives has a [Roland] SP [sampler] that he’s manipulating the beats with. So we keep that frenzied thing we do because the songs never quite sound the same way twice.
Do you improvise during performances, or is it tightly structured?
Brian Ennals: We pretty much pick a new setlist every show – nothing drastic from what we’ve done before, but enough to keep it interesting. If it’s interesting to us, it’s easier to make sure the audience is getting off. We banter a lot – Knives will call me ugly, then I’ll tell him to shut the fuck up and start pressing buttons again.
Can you send us a picture that best illustrates your current state of mind to post along with your answers?
Brian Ennals: This is the real arrest of the fictional Chuck E. Cheese. I don’t know if anything else captures the ridiculousness of everything going on right now.
