Sitting in the cramped, humid backstage of a Toronto venue on Aug. 22, the air smells of stale beer and the metallic tang of guitar strings. Jon Elmaleh, the frontman for Napoleon, leans forward with a look that suggests he hasn't slept in three days or perhaps he just doesn't need to. He is holding a physical copy of the new EP, *Dear God*, turning the matte sleeve over in his hands. It feels heavy, not just in weight but in intent. This is not a polite record. It is a sonic grenade designed to flatten the ego and question the heavens.
The alt-punk scene is currently a crowded room of people shouting for attention, but Napoleon is throwing chairs. They have moved past the phase of being scrappy upstarts. They are now post-hardcore heavyweights who have traded pop-sensibilities for a grittier, more unapologetic manifesto. It is a definitive shift in their trajectory.
The thematic weight of *Dear God* is not some manufactured angst designed for radio play. It is a direct byproduct of Elmaleh’s own friction with his upbringing. We talk about the pressure of growing up in a world that demands blind faith when your eyes are wide open. He is blunt about it.
"I grew up in a somewhat religious household, and even from a young age, I had a lot of questions and a pretty bad attitude towards it. As I grew older, I came to terms with the fact that I do not believe in the same things that those around me do, and that's okay. The EP deals with my own journey of getting to that point," Elmaleh says.
There is a specific kind of bravery in admitting you have a "bad attitude" toward the foundational beliefs of your family. It isn't just teenage rebellion; it is an intellectual divorce. The EP captures that messy, painful process of walking away from the pews and into the unknown. It offers a perspective that is stripped of pretense.
Musically, the record is a pivot. It is louder, meaner and more technically proficient than their previous efforts. You can hear the influence of metalcore bleeding into the edges of their post-hardcore roots. It is a deliberate choice to lean into the aggression.
"We've had some heavier tracks in the past and noticed that those were always the ones that people gravitated towards, and we enjoyed making and playing live the most. When we started working on 'Dear God,' we talked about what kind of band we really are and what kind of band we want to be, and we decided this is what is best for us!" Elmaleh explains.
And he is right. The market is saturated with bands trying to find a "hook," but Napoleon found their soul in the distortion. The riffs on *Dear God* demand your attention like a physical blow to the chest. It is a visceral experience, though one could argue the production occasionally buries the nuance of the bass lines in favour of the wall-of-sound approach.
The visual component of this era is equally stark. The videos for "Heartless" and "Help Me" do not offer any easy comforts. They are dark, cinematic and frankly, a bit difficult to watch if you are looking for a good time. They mirror the EP’s preoccupation with the finality of self-doubt.
"It's a very dark story, showing the process of someone grappling with faith, and ultimately choosing to end their life because of their inner turmoil. Our director and friend Michael Crusty really killed it with these videos. We're very grateful to have him on our side," says Elmaleh.
The imagery is bleak, but it serves a purpose. It grounds the music in a reality that many bands are too afraid to touch. There is no sugar-coating the consequences of a life lived in spiritual or mental isolation. Crusty’s direction captures the grey, cold atmosphere of the music perfectly.
Watching Napoleon from the edge of the stage is a lesson in controlled chaos. The live show is where the new material truly breathes. It is loud, sweaty and completely overwhelming. They have introduced new elements that heighten the tension.
"We got some new things in our set like samples and stuff that we've never done before, but we try to keep things pretty raw and stripped back, it's more fun like that!" Elmaleh enthuses.
It's something I've struggled with a lot... I feel like it's supposed to bring people together, but all I see it doing is tearing us apart.
The use of samples provides a haunting backdrop to the live drums, though there is a risk of losing that "raw" feel if the tech outweighs the talent. Fortunately, Napoleon stays on the right side of that line. The energy in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.
The title *Dear God* might seem like a cliché at first glance, but in the context of Elmaleh’s lyrics, it is a provocation. It is an address to an empty room, or perhaps a room full of people who have forgotten how to be human.
"I like to think of the EP lyrically as being sort of an open letter to people who are, in my opinion, too into religion, to the point where they lose sight of what's really important, which is the fact that we are all humans. We all deserve respect regardless of our beliefs; no one is better than anyone because they worship a specific god in a specific way," Elmaleh says.
It is a bold stance in a genre that often sticks to vague metaphors. He is calling out the exclusionary nature of dogma. It is humanism wrapped in a scream. It sets a tone that is confrontational yet deeply empathetic.
The songwriting process has clearly tightened since their last release, *Enemy Within*. You can hear the growth in the transitions and the lyrical density. They aren't just writing songs; they are building a cohesive narrative.
"We definitely tried to be more focused, and a lot heavier. Lyrically also, I paid a lot more attention to what I was saying," Elmaleh reflects.
That focus is evident. Every riff feels like it has been interrogated before being allowed on the track. The fat has been trimmed. What remains is the gristle and the bone.
One of the most immediate changes is the vocal delivery. Elmaleh is leaning much harder into his screaming range. It adds a layer of desperation to the tracks that clean vocals simply couldn't convey.
"We always had screaming to some degree in Napoleon, and I definitely was always doing more of it live than in the studio, so it felt natural!" he says.
The transition feels seamless. It doesn't sound like a band trying to be "metal" for the sake of it; it sounds like a vocalist who has finally found the right volume for his frustration. The screams are textured and guttural, anchoring the melodic sections in something much more primal.
The intersection of faith and the lack of faith in oneself is the true heart of the EP. It is an internal war. Elmaleh is candid about how his past shaped his current skepticism.
"It's something I've struggled with a lot. I already mentioned that I come from a religious family, and I even went to a religious school and everything. It really shaped my views on organized religion in my adult life. I feel like it's supposed to bring people together, but all I see it doing is tearing us apart," Elmaleh says.
This isn't just a critique of a church; it's a critique of the division that religion often breeds. It is a heavy topic for a five-song EP, but Napoleon handles it with a level of maturity that belies their years.
The road to *Dear God* was not a smooth one. The band has weathered storms that would have folded lesser groups. Lineup changes are the silent killer of the independent music scene, but Napoleon used the friction to sharpen their edge.
"We went through a lot of lineup changes between the 'Full-size Problem' single and 'Dear God.' It was a tough couple of years, but the lineup we have now is the strongest we've ever been!" Elmaleh reveals.
That strength is audible. There is a chemistry in the rhythm section that feels locked in. You can tell these are people who have fought to be in the same room together.
When the conversation turns to the emotional core of the record, one track stands above the rest. "Help Me" is a devastating piece of music, both in its composition and its inspiration.
"'Help Me' is my favorite song we've ever done. The story is a real one of someone that was very close to my family for a long time. It was very upsetting to watch his downfall happen in real time," Elmaleh says.
The track is a standout because it feels lived-in. It isn't a generic song about sadness; it is a specific, agonizing portrait of a person losing their grip. It is the emotional anchor of the EP.
Looking forward, the momentum doesn't seem to be slowing down. Elmaleh is already looking past the current release cycle toward the next evolution of the band.
"I've already started writing, and the songs are getting heavier if anything, so we'll see!" he says with a grin that suggests he knows something we don't.
If *Dear God* is the benchmark, the next chapter for Napoleon will be a formidable one. They are a band unafraid of the dark, unafraid of the heavy and most importantly, unafraid of the truth. They are carving out a space in the Canadian music scene that belongs entirely to them. Don't look away.
