After several splits, EPs, and a few full-lengths—including 2016's acclaimed Sowing the Seeds of a Worthless Tomorrow —of screaming his guts out about "social issues, political issues and shit like that," Ball took a different direction for the Canadian grindcore band's latest effort and pointed his scathing lyrics at his own battles with depression, addiction, and isolation. "It's a lot of stuff I don't really want to get too into, but it's all based on my struggles and stuff that I deal with personally," he says.

Vocalist Kyle Ball defers with a nervous laugh when asked for specifics behind Wake's excellent new full length, Misery Rites. He's not trying to be difficult, he's just not used to talking about himself.

With a common theme to start from, the writing took a more collaborative, focused approach. The band spent a year and half rehearsing, touring and demoing new material before taking it to the studio. Ball revised and rewrote lyrics to each song several times over, and everyone had input throughout the process. It was also the first time the band's current lineup all lived in Calgary at the same time. Founding guitarist and main riff-writer Rob LaChance says it was a complete group effort, unlike in the past.

Starting with the title track, Ball built a concept around an ongoing cycle of someone perpetually "killing" the self they hate being, only to end up in the same place and starting over as that same person. A sort of exorcise [sic] in futility. From the opening "Exhumation" through the final "Burial Ground" and back, the album plays out like a series of cycles within a larger one that starts over on repeated listening.

Grindcore can be a genre full of call-outs, takedowns and tough guy shit. So it's refreshing to hear Ball turn a familiar refrain, "No gods/no masters … " against himself, "but a slave to disillusionment" on a blistering, straightforward grind track, like "Exile." It's also helped the singer do some healing. "I've never written a song about myself before this record," Ball says. "Doing this was extremely cathartic. It helped me come to a lot of realizations about some things in my life." But he's not ready to go full tabloid about it just yet. "I'm really timid talking about this kind of stuff and putting myself out there to just read about it," he says.

"Dave's whole approach to everything was by far the best recording experience I've had so far," LaChance says. "He pushed us all super hard, he had great tones right from the start. He was an animal." "He was awesome to work with," Ball adds. "He wouldn't be afraid to tell you, 'You sucked,' but he wouldn't tell you in a way that would make you feel terrible about yourself. "And he loves Canadians!" LaChance quips.

Not every song points inward. Ball takes a timeout from soul searching to give his own "Fuck Tha Police"—with vocal help from Ethan McCarthy (Primitive Man/Vermin Womb)—on the scorching dis track "Rot." "That song's just about hating the cops," he says. "It's just a gross song about piece of shit cops." It's one of two song to which the Denver-based McCarthy lends his burly growl (he's also on the brief-and-unhinged "Rumination"), which was another perk of recording in Colorado with veteran engineer Dave Otero (Cattle Decapitation, Khemmis, Cobalt).

"We made an album based on a cycle, and Kyle wrote around that, and we wrote around him, and it all kind of came together in this one specific way," LaChance says. That cohesion is maybe best on display in "Paradigm Lost." With an arc that mirrors the concept—and song title—itself, the track opens with an assaulting blast before shifting to a plodding groove that continually breaks down and starts to meander before hurtling back to an even more chaotic close. The band reworked the song together from an earlier version one day in practice, mapping it out to Ball's lyrics before arriving at the final form of the standout track.

But really, who doesn't? However, its touring circuit, particularly west of Ontario, can be as brutal as Wake's filthiest riffs. While Edmonton is a manageable three-hour drive from the band's home-base of Calgary, the next closest tour stops north of the U.S. border are Saskatoon (six hours), Vancouver (12 hours), and Winnipeg (16 hours). Limited outlets have pushed the band to tour extensively stateside, as well, where they have grown dedicated followings in Denver, the Midwest and on the East Coast.

In March, Wake begins a four-week North American tour, joining up with Atlanta blackened death/doom band Withered for the U.S. and Eastern Canadian dates. At home in Alberta, Ball and LaChance say the underground has been dominated by doom metal in recent years. While the next closest major city of Edmonton maintains a healthy DIY scene, it can be tough going in Calgary beyond bar metal. "There are a few people doing DIY shows and stuff, but like everywhere else on this continent, the spaces are disappearing," LaChance says. "There's lots of small-time things going on, but they're constantly closing down and reopening."