KNARD is a sound that demands attention. A collision of electronic music, metal, gaming culture, and protest movements, it’s a disruptive force that claws and rattles its way into your mind. Tracks like “Autonomy” show how chaos can be a weapon. The artist behind it all is Damien Aleister McCoy—a quiet, watchful presence. KNARD is his loud, unfiltered opposite, a persona that unleashes what Damien holds back, tearing through the polite surface of modern life with blunt honesty. The name is more than an alias; it’s a vessel for defiance, a crucible where silence is turned into fire.
Whether in a club or on a festival stage, KNARD performances are an overwhelming, shared experience. They aren’t concerts but collisions of sound and bodies—industrial textures, nu-metal riffs, and fractured electronics meeting head-on. In this space of rebellion and release, KNARD is a defiant force, a reminder that music can still be dangerous and sacred.
- Damien, you’ve said KNARD is about pushing sonic boundaries—how does the persona of KNARD differ from who you are offstage?
KNARD: I’m a quiet person. I observe a lot more than I socialize. Even in groups of friends, I’m usually somebody who only chimes in when I feel I have a real nugget to contribute to the topic. As KNARD, on the other hand, I feel like through music I have freedom to express myself and say what I truly want to say on a broader spectrum that can resonate with others. It’s a “say it louder for the people in the back” type of energy. I can fantasize without it backfiring in my face. I feel like trying to say what I want to say on social platforms in 2025, I have to save a lot of face and walk on eggshells. There’s an unspoken level of narcissism at the societal level out there that people will bandwagon and abuse other people behind their keyboards for being slightly different, not even necessarily at a political level, but just in their own individuation that they are shunned or mistreated for not fitting exactly into the box. For me, I’ve never fit into a box. The box shouldn’t exist to begin with.
- What does the name “KNARD” signify to you personally, and how does it embody the music you create?
KNARD: The funny thing about KNARD is that I originally went by “Knard Hocks”, a ‘spoonification’ of “Hard Knocks”. It was only after I dropped the “Hocks” from it was when I really locked into what “KNARD” is to me. I’ve observed different takes on it. It’ll be mistaken for “Canard”, which means “false or baseless rumor with the intention to deceive”. The Urban Dictionary definition is even more humorous. The name “Kenerd” means “bold”, and slangwise, it simply means “Cool”. We can look at the funny bits, the mispronunciations, or we can be serious about it. I like that it has this aura about it. I think when I took the name “KNARD”, it was something generally undefined. A null reference. Something that wasn’t given any value, like in programming. It is only after we assign value to it that we can make it something more, give it meaning and a place to exist in the grand machine. To me, I give KNARD that value and definition through what I create as an artist.
- You’ve performed at festivals like MAGFest, Big Dub, and Dreamscape – what kind of audience connection do you seek when you step into these underground spaces?
KNARD: Music has a way to infest itself into people. It’s like a computer virus written in its own language that can take over your entire system and reduce you to a primal state of being. When I grew up in the music scene, I remember that feeling of being taken over by noise, being drawn to throw myself around a dance floor and to exist like that if only for a moment. Simultaneously, people around me were doing the same thing. We were all vulnerable, but through our cohesion, we are a singularity of energy. We unite in the noise, there’s no denial of that. We synchronize. If there is an audience I seek to connect with, it’s those who embrace that. There’s no greater force than that in this existence. I want to call it love, but I think it’s greater and more meaningful than love. It’s the closest thing to deus ex that I’ve observed.
- KNARD often feels like both an artist and a provocateur—do you see your work as entertainment, activism, therapy, or all three?
KNARD: All of the above, definitely. Entertainment is therapy in its own way, in my opinion. People can be healed and find strength when they are entertained. It’s said that depression is not the lack of happiness, it’s the opposite expression. Feeling alone is lacking the action of expression, in that same line of thinking. People feel less alone when someone expresses something they also feel. Resonation in that begets serotonin. When people don’t feel alone, they can become a force to be reckoned with. That force can be harnessed for more than just music, it can be used to bring people together for a cause, start a movement, and even used as a weapon against tyranny.
To para-quote Marriane Williamson:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” That poem shakes me to my core even today.
- You’ve drawn influence from both electronic music and metal—two very different sonic worlds. What first pulled you toward blending them?
KNARD: I was turned onto music from a very early age. Growing up, my dad would play records of all kinds of music, from Black Sabbath to Renaissance to The Goofy Greats. I was exposed to a lot of music. I came from the MTV generation. My siblings and I would have that tube on non-stop. When I was in school, I rocked out every day to FM radio, namely DC101 and 98Rock in the DMV. They played mostly hard rock and alternative rock, but on occasion some metal would slip through. I think when I realized the possibilities of being a musician first was around the time I got turned onto stuff like Dream Theater and Blind Guardian. In that same breath, the album that truly did me in was Linkin Park’s “Hybrid Theory”. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before, and it really opened my ears to everything. I started listening to more Hip Hop, Rap, Electronica, and eventually Industrial. I had listened to Nine Inch Nails before, but never made the genre connection to industrial until I heard stuff like Assemblage 23, VNV Nation, Project Pitchfork, Wumpscut, Juno Reactor and my all time favorite: In Strict Confidence. I think the exposure of all that music truly kept me open from the start, it gave me a foundation to really fine tune my sound towards my roots over the years once I understood music the way I do today.
- Your work has been compared to acts like Prodigy, Slipknot, Infected Mushroom, and Celldweller. How do you absorb these influences without losing your own identity?
KNARD: I can actually recall many times in my life where each of these artists were all I listened to for weeks. “Heavyweight” by Infected Mushroom is something I cannot truly explain what it feels like to hear it LIVE, but when you do, it rocks your soul. Music is all about influence and inspiration – we are at a point where the fundamentals of music are remixed and formulaic, but it’s through that we build into something new while still retaining the influence of the old. If you’ve ever heard Axis of Awesome’s “4 Four Chord Song”, you’ll understand exactly what I am talking about. I try to utilize some of that foundation, but ultimately I think formulaic writing feels robotic. In another observation, music is absolutely crazy when you think about it in wave forms of micro and macro scales both inside and outside of it. Inside the technicality, we can analyze and dissect waveforms in a singular sound. Zoom out. You can do the same to a measure of calculated call and response, rhythms and progression. Zoom out again. You can do the same with entire sections and how they contextually work with one another. Zoom out again, you can do the same with how an album or a DJ mix have their own flow that just feels right in the pocket that makes sense. Zoom out again. You can see music’s influence on culture and society, for example, through people like the late Ozzy Osbourne. The massive impact of music is like the kick and the snare that cuts through a cacophony of noise. Truly, I think being an artist is actually about losing yourself in that, in absorbing the influence, not becoming an identity. Music changes you. You are not who you are anymore when you decide to become an artist. You are no longer the person society told you to be. You unmask entirely. You live a fantasy, in some ways. You have to become a super hero. Society will always define your identity through its own lens, through social media or whatever, but you as the artist should never worry about that. Be and do what you, the artist, are capable of. Let society figure it out on their own. Don’t waste time worrying about that because you’re the kick and snare that cuts through all of that noise.
- Video games are part of your creative DNA—how does gaming culture shape your sound design and storytelling?
KNARD: Jesper Kyd’s music for “Subterrania” and Frank Klepacki’s music for “Red Alert”. Huge influences. You can definitely hear that influence on my sound design. I’ve had a lot of people tell me my music would absolutely rock in video games. I actually spent 10 years working for Bethesda as QA for games like Fallout, Skyrim and DOOM. Another honorable mention for Mick Gordon, absolute musical genius on what he did for DOOM. These artists definitely opened my eyes to some of the technical aspects of music writing and how certain sounds can be made or blended together. My biggest musical inspiration from gaming is Nobuo Uematsu, the renowned composer of the Final Fantasy series. Gaming has had a massive impact on my life, I am a gamer still to this day. I enjoy speedruns and livestream on Twitch under a different name. I have attended MAGFest for years – MAGFest being the Music And Gaming Festival held in January at the National Harbor in Washington, DC. It was only recently that I got to perform a DJ set there, which was a bucket list item in itself. I’m always looking at ways to add more game influence to my sound, such as introducing more chiptune elements if it makes sense contextually to the music, while not compromising the current sound I’m interested in.
- Activism plays a role in your music. What issues or movements have most directly fueled your artistic direction?
KNARD: Speaking candidly, I often question how America has gotten the way it has. What is this domino effect of blatant ignorance and disregard for fellow humanity that we’ve stumbled into? Who is this imbecile on TV we’ve allowed to be the President? Who are these people who applaud him like he invented the toaster for his actions? What the fuck is going on and what is going to be the tipping point?
I am very open minded to people and culture, even the idiots. I think society has failed to triumph over ignorance, and it’s sad. The world and its people are suffering, to sum it up. We lack the infrastructure to be a cosmopolitan society. I’ve been into activism since I stumbled onto the works of Jacque Fresco and the Venus Project. I protested the Iraq War in my youth. I’ve been part of The Occupy Movement, Black Lives Matter, and attended many other marches that would fall under Women’s Rights, LGBTQA+ Rights, and Anti-War sentiment, such as the recent focus on Gaza, Palestine and Israel. I personally think the crusades never stopped, the methods of war evolved in the same way our technology evolved, and it’s fundamentally at our core to keep us distracted and ignorant. Our switch has been flipped to one extremity, and it will ultimately lead further to dystopia and destruction. I thrive off that, it’s a time to be alive and create something to drive the antithesis to that. I think society’s focus is on things like money and religion, and inevitable war because these are huge distractions. The world is still learning to communicate correctly between one another. If you’re reading this, I strongly encourage you to embrace cultures other than your own. Learn a foreign cuisine. Learn a new language. Learn different customs and the culture of different people. It’s not until you experience something outside of yourself that you can see the world with eyes unclouded. Everyone is part of this world, that is something that needs to be embraced.
- How do you personally define “catharsis” in music, and what makes sound such a powerful tool for it?
KNARD: I think music provides catharsis in itself. We find release through listening to it. A simple beat and sound can be nostalgic, remind us of a time in our lives that felt good and carefree. That catharsis can be further pushed when the music is about something we as humanity care deeply about. If the song is about love and the listener is currently hurting in their personal quest for love, the song helps them purge those negative feelings and gives them hope. If the song is political, it can drive people to become active. Growing up, that was the type of feeling I got from music. It’s all in the delivery of the message that ultimately you are not alone and that you don’t have to be alone.
- You’ve spoken about rejecting formulaic electronica. What moment or experience made you decide to abandon that path?
KNARD: I spent years chasing the DJ dream, I spent a lot of time and money invested into learning how to write music that would get me places under the impression I needed to “write good music” to get signed and to get booked and have a music career. I won’t name them, but I had a mentor who basically held this carrot on a stick with me for years while I worked under them while never officially releasing on their label. We had a professional disagreement that ended our relationship abruptly with them telling me that I “was not ready for the music industry” and that I should “die”. That type of abuse from someone you look up to has a big impact on you as an artist. I realized the type of music I was writing was for their approval, to try and pass some test, and it was disgusting to me. I’ve also suffered emotionally abusive relationships in the past and found myself in the same mentality, like I was only doing something to pass their tests.
I shifted gears, got back in touch with my roots, individuation, studied psychology on my own and got the therapy I needed to rebuild my sense of self. I wore a mask on stage during these times because I, personally, was masking. It was only recently that I’ve been able to lean more into unmasking fully, and in turn, hang that mask on the wall for good.
- Autonomy has been described as “digital whiplash” and “rave nihilism.” What emotions or ideas were you trying to channel when you made it?
KNARD: I think people are indoctrinated to only care about stuff that checks off every box to be commercialized. I think when I was writing this song, I kind of hated the idea I was writing music that was about being true to yourself and not allowing others control you that would ultimately need to “pass the test” once again for people to enjoy it. I wanted to push that envelope just enough to make people uncomfortable, because being true to yourself is uncomfortable when you, yourself, don’t know who you are, outside of what society has told you who you are with labels and trying to fit you into a box. The rule of progress is that uncomfortability is a pre-requisite.
- The track has moments of industrial abrasion, nu-metal riffing, and even turntable chaos—what was your guiding principle in fusing such extreme elements?
KNARD: Contextually, I wanted to capture the feeling of noise that disregarded rules, while, unfortunately, followed rules musically. This is something we all feel. We all want to bend or break the rules, especially if they inhibit us, while simultaneously being enslaved to following them, out of safety or self preservation. The extremes used just felt right, it needed to be something people weren’t used to hearing, it couldn’t just be the same song and dance.
13. Before the vocals enter, Autonomy is almost overwhelming in its intensity. Why was it important to throw the listener straight into that chaos without easing them in?
KNARD: That’s how every human is born. We’re thrown into chaos, with no semblance of understanding or control. We’re controlled by our parents, we’re pushed through tests like lab rats and the institutions that were placed long before we showed up, to see if we fit in a box. It is the exact opposite of autonomy. I knew when writing this song, I wanted to sing, and I recognized that in order to make contrast, I would need the vocals to cut past all the noise I introduced. There needed to be at least some sense of control – much like the control we seek in life. These two concepts play hand in hand with each other beautifully because they can be impactful in their contrast. The lyrics, in turn, needed to pepper itself in that chaos at times, like being “trapped up in a psycho prison”. We feel like we’re being chaotic sometimes when we’re trying to have control, because people will try to take that away from you. We feel crazy for that longing of being ourselves for ourselves. The noise is the prison, the autonomy is that sense of control that cannot be taken away. The listener who resonates with this song knows that in order to cut through the noise that makes them feel out of control, they need to speak up. They need to cut through that noise and not be silent. I love to write music with analogies like this.
- Some listeners hear Autonomy as a critique of glossy, commercial electronic music. Do you see it as an act of rebellion?
KNARD: Absolutely. Industrial and punk music, I think, has always been the counter culture to the commercial industry, even if they find themselves a slice of that pie. There’s a lot more expressive art in these types of music because they’re not inherently leaning into being vapid or vain, but trying to send a message and break down barriers. It’s meant to be something different in a world full of a lot of the same bought and sold carbon copy bullshit.
- The title Autonomy suggests independence, self-determination, maybe even resistance. What does the word mean in the context of this song?
KNARD: Those are good words to describe it. Autonomy in the context of the song, is a bit open ended. I was feeling a lot of different feelings when I wrote it. I am still healing a lot from abuse I’ve experienced in the past few years, so there’s a lot of that spelled out pretty deliberately in the song. However, a listener doesn’t need to know my personal experiences to understand what the song is about. I left it vague and open ended because sometimes that’s just what you do in music. I’ve found the best songs I’ve heard, especially the ones that capture catharsis, use lyrics that can resonate no matter what they are about, because they speak an undeniable truth.
- Do you think KNARD will always exist in the underground, or do you envision your sound breaking through to a wider audience without compromising its intensity?
KNARD: I won’t deny the dream of performing my music to larger crowds, but I also will be realistic. The industry right now is absolutely challenging to make any type of breakthrough, and I take a lot of risks in making stuff that isn’t commercially viable. It isn’t the 90s anymore where doing anything could snowball into a career. It’s saturated, it’s noisy, and it’s easy to be ignored and undiscovered. I think the internet definitely has had both a positive and a negative impact on the industry. My goal in life, with music, is that I hope that my music can touch the souls of others the same it did for me when growing up, if only on the few people who listen to it.
- Your live shows are known for rattling walls and overwhelming senses—how do you translate that visceral energy into the studio recording process?
KNARD: It’s no joke that I will start my sets saying “I am KNARD and I break sound systems.” I’ve never had the luxury of paying for damages, though. In the studio, I tend to lean into distortion often. It’s just high frequency, which can be EQ’d and compressed to fit into new dynamics. Music is mouldable. I have no issues with going full spectrum if the music calls for it. I think it’s my playing with call and response between contrasting elements that is making everything so visceral sounding. I also enjoy singing, and engaging with the music physically, that really adds the human element.
- In a time where overstimulation defines digital life, do you think your music mirrors that chaos or offers an escape from it?
KNARD: Maybe a bit of both. I am part of that chaos, and art reflects reality. I think if my music is like holding up the mirror, it helps people see things for what they are. Maybe after staring into it for too long, they’ll smash it. I think that’s something I’d love for my music to achieve.
- Where do you see KNARD’s sound evolving next—more abrasive, more melodic, or into entirely new sonic terrain?
KNARD: I’m always looking at how to evolve the sound while staying dialed into my personal sound pallette. Right now, I’m really enjoying the metal and industrial influence, so I’ll be sticking to that for my new album release, “NOTHING IS SACRED” in 2026.
- If you could collaborate with one artist—living or gone—who would it be, and what kind of chaos would you want to create together?
KNARD: First choice, I think it’d have to be Mike Shinoda. Linkin Park had a massive influence on me musically, you can hear it in tracks like Autonomy. I think if I were to write anything with Mike Shinoda, it’d be a callback to “Hybrid Theory” and its iconic sound. Second choice, Trent Reznor, similar reasoning, “Pretty Hate Machine” and what he did for the video game “Quake”. Contact me if you want to make some noise.
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