Crux Ex Interview

Summoned from the hollow corridors of memory, Crux Ex is a project that channels the quiet devastation of grief, nostalgia, and existential collapse. Their music is not a protest, but a lament — a ritual of unspoken sorrow where black metal, dark ambient, and drone converge into a sonic requiem. With Dante at the helm, “The Pain of Silence” is not a release but a reckoning — composed in solitude, untouched by malice, and steeped in the ruins of emotional truth.

This interview scroll descends into the architecture of despair, tracing the fractured motifs of homesickness, mythic decay, and the fall of pacing itself. Dante, sole visionary and ceremonial architect, speaks with raw clarity about the album’s haunted genesis, its rejection of convention, and the silence that binds each track like a wound beneath the skin.

Thirteen Questions Beneath the Wound

Q1: You describe The Pain of Silence as your most intimate work to date —a cruelly beautiful world, void of anything bright or comforting. What compelled you to descend into this silence at this moment?

Dante Crux Ex: During the sessions for “Love U All”, a wealth of music emerged—especially in moments when I needed to clear my mind and simply explored riffs, raw sounds that captured exactly what I was feeling. Unlike “Love U All”, an album steeped in hatred, “The Pain of Silence contains no malice—only despair, melancholy, and nostalgia for what once was—a muffled cry for help. Some tracks lean into black metal, others drift through dark ambient and drone, eventually coalescing into 35 minutes of music that, to me, became the most immersive and fulfilling I had ever experienced.

Q2: Across five tracksyou navigate desolation, homesickness, and the fall of mythic figures. What emotional or existential architecture binds these tracks together?

Dante Crux Ex: The album is woven from desolation, loss of hope, decay, and existential crisis. “The Pain of Silence” is entirely an authorial work, even within its genre. I didn’t care about the pacing, the roughness, or the challenges of production. Even though I believe the black metal tracks are exquisitely balanced, none of that mattered—this album was, is, and will remain, entirely mine

Q3: The album opens with “No Empathy” —a title that offers no ambiguity. Was this track a personal severance, or a broader indictment of emotional erosion in the modern world?

Dante Crux Ex: You’re absolutely correct: “No Empathy” is exactly that. Contemporary society is undergoing a crisis more spiritual than existential, as everyone believes themselves to be the center of the cosmos. People live as if trapped inside a music video, starring only themselves. They no longer love, they no longer listen, they no longer understand. Nobody walks in another’s shoes. Modern anthropology may one day study this, but for now, everything feels superficial, stripped of genuine emotion.

Q4: Homesickness evokes absence — not just physical, but spiritual exile. What does ‘home’ signify in your cosmology— oand what does its absence reveal?

Dante Crux Ex: It’s the imagined landscape of my mind—emotions and sensations, especially from childhood. I grew up believing the world was safe, only to discover it was a wasteland, rotten to the core—a place I do not like to inhabit, where each step demands vigilance simply to survive. I am not fully anchored in nostalgia, yet when I allow myself a private smile, I drift back to moments that once existed. Still, I am fortunate to retain many of these sensations in my adult life, within the safety of my home.

Q5: “The Fall of Adam,” this ten-minute centrepiece, feels like a slow-motion collapse. What theological or symbolic weight does ‘Adam’ bear in this collapse?”

Dante Crux Ex: Today, everyone is “Adam.” Society has irrevocably fallen into desire for desire’s sake. The addiction to pleasure has become a cancer, distancing people from anything spiritual. I do not condemn physical pleasure itself; rather, the Ego has consumed humanity. Everyone has bitten the apple and been deceived by the serpent—knowingly. Jajaja No one cares to preserve anything anymore. Nothing matters—not our connection to nature, to others, or to ourselves. Only the fleeting stimulus counts, and the more, the better.

Q6: “From My Depths, this track feels submerged—like a message clawing its way up from beneath. What truths or traumas surfaced, and how did you preserve their rawness?”

Dante Crux Ex: “From My Depths” is intensely personal. Though wordless, the synthesizers and piano speak volumes. I believe it evokes hope—a deep, internal yearning to break the silence, to escape suffering within it. It is, at its core, hope; a quiet reconciliation with the world I inhabit.

Q7: You close the album with an instrumental titled “Cruel.” Why end in silence, and what does this final wordless gesture communicate that lyrics could not? “

Dante Crux Ex: “Cruel” came to life in mere minutes, and was recorded just as quickly. I picked up the guitar to convey rawness and malice. Repetition plays a central role, even as subtle changes and slower sections emerge. Its standard tuning sharpens it like a threatening blade—pure black metal essence. The track was born with its own voice; nothing else was needed.

Q8: You speak of hopelessness not as a theme, but as a total environment. How did you translate that emotional state into texture, pacing, and sonic space?”

Dante Crux Ex: The album creates a total environment, filling space without dominating it constantly. Giving sound to something so real, so raw, was straightforward. If “Love U All” communicates hatred, here you encounter pain, resignation, and hope. Two albums released in close succession, sharing a perspective yet diverging profoundly. “Love U All” speaks with rage; “The Pain of Silence” reigns in silence—no one listens, no one changes anything.

Q9: Isolation as Method — you created everything yourself: — composition, performance, production. Was this solitude a necessity, a discipline, or a reflection of the album’s core themes?”

Dante Crux Ex: Crux EX is a bastion of solitude, in every sense, ungrateful and unyielding. Creating a new album happens rapidly, yet the process is deeply self-destructive. Only I could embody it fully, making it genuine and authentic. Since 2014, I had released nothing, and this year alone brought two albums, an EP, some singles, and soon, on January 15, a new EP: “Nietzsche’s Descent into Madness”, exploring sonic depth and dimensionality previously uncharted in my work. Crux EX is, and will always remain, me—heard by the few whose attention I truly cherish.

Q10: Born in Las Palmas, now based in Ingenio— how does the geography of the Canary Islands shape your sound? Is the landscape a collaborator in your work?”

Dante Crux Ex: When most people think of the Canary Islands, they imagine cheap, mediocre tourism that often disgusts. Yet the islands are magical: forests, mountains, iconic sites; a land dark and profound if you know where to look. Even the sea can feel hostile, depending on where you go—a land of legend. I wander these places seeking inspiration. That is why my album covers and professional photographs are real; I never design visuals artificially. I identify deeply with my land, using original content. The cover for “Nietzsche’s Descent into Madness” is brutal—you’ll see it soon.

Q11: You state this world is “void of anything bright or comforting.” Is this refusal of light an aesthetic stance—or a deeper act of emotional honesty?”

Dante Crux Ex: At every level, this is an act of profound emotional honesty. Crux EX prioritizes emotion over aesthetics; otherwise, I would have far more followers and listeners! Jajaja.

Q12: Your work moves through depressive black metal, doom, and ambient forms. Do you see a genre as a vessel, a disguise, or something to be exorcised entirely?”

Dante Crux Ex: I am not a great lover of metal; in fact, I listen to it less than most. I find it outdated, riddled with mediocrity, clichés, posturing, and awkward band photographs. Yet, in its extreme forms, it captivates me. I love this music. Black metal offers a path where I can express myself fully; Doom, Drone, and ambient music enthrall me. I record honestly, unconcerned with perfection or rigid timing. I reject polished, pompous production. I find darkness outside metal, where music has become freakish and strange. Black Sabbath forged the heaviest sound of their time—they were hardworking, normal men, telling the world “not all is well,” without theatrics or trying to pose as “bad boys.”

Q13: Once the final track fades what remains? Does silence offer healing—or only the clarity of survival?”

Dante Crux Ex: What remains is the clarity of survival. I am still seeking healing, and I continue to do so.