Electro-Punk Duo Chalk Bridges Divides in Post-Troubles Belfast
In the historic Kelly's Cellars pub, a Belfast establishment dating back to 1720, Ross Cullen and Benedict Goddard of the electro-punk duo Chalk settle into a corner with pints of stout. The traditional music echoing from nearby sets the scene for a conversation about their hybrid identities and the city's complex legacy.
A Sound Forged in Belfast's Cultural Crucible
Formed while studying film at university, Chalk has spent five years crafting a live performance that combines Underworld's rave energy with Nine Inch Nails' intensity, all rooted in Belfast's musical heritage. From Stiff Little Fingers' punk to David Holmes' electronic beats, they've created a noise that defies their two-person configuration. "We wanted to make as much noise as we could with just two people," Goddard explains, "but we never wanted to be limited by that."
Their debut album Crystalpunk represents the culmination of this journey, following a trilogy of intense EPs titled Conditions. The album's name reflects their sound's dual nature: "Crystal being beautiful, the electronic side of things, but also quite sharp and destructive," Goddard notes.
Identity Crises in a Divided City
Both members navigate complex identities that mirror Belfast's own divisions. Goddard, with an English father and Irish mother, grew up between Monaghan in Ireland and Armagh in Northern Ireland. "What was my identity the whole time?" he questions. Cullen, from a mixed-religion family with a Protestant father and Catholic mother, adds: "There's no flag for people like us. No Red Hand of Ulster, no tricolour. So we made our own."
The album's centerpiece, the eight-minute track Béal Feirste (the Irish name for Belfast), explores this feeling of being "unclaimed on both sides." Cullen's father grew up during the Troubles, experiencing violence firsthand, and that trauma inheritance permeates their music. "Wherever you're from, if your parents are from different religions or different sides, you can feel that impostor syndrome," Cullen observes.
Local Details and Cross-Community Unity
Chalk's music incorporates specific Belfast references, like the track Skem, named after graffiti Cullen noticed on trains crossing Northern Ireland. The refrain "shoulder to shoulder" in Béal Feirste draws from Ireland's Call, the all-island rugby anthem that achieves cross-community unity where politics has often failed.
"I grew up playing rugby," Cullen shares. "My dad was the coach; he used to play me Chumbawamba's Tubthumping before every practice." Goddard wonders aloud: "Why has sport been able to do what politics can't?" Cullen responds wryly: "Sportspeople aren't generally trying to be cool. Have you ever seen a goth boxer?"
Artistic Confrontation and Personal Growth
In the video for lead single IDC, Cullen wanders Belfast streets in a spiked leather mask, capturing the tension between artistic confrontation and personal vulnerability. "I've never been to therapy or anything like that," Cullen admits, "but the purpose of some of these songs is maybe me going back to younger me."
He describes the music as "a vessel that's been building up for a long time – a little bubble that floats, that's been living in me. I can finally let it out." This process has coincided with personal growth, including developing new relationships with his parents as an adult.
Belfast's DIY Spirit and Future Vision
Fresh from performances at SXSW and preparing for North American and European tours, Chalk remains committed to their Belfast roots. Goddard, now eight years in the city, recalls a friend's observation that Belfast "over-indexes" culturally, punching above its weight. "We have such a DIY attitude," he says. "I'd almost rather the industry come to us."
Cullen looks up from his pint, the traditional music still audible from the next room. "We're playing catchup on other cities, fair enough. But not only do we want to be here, we want to be part of what it could be."
Against the backdrop of recent anti-immigrant riots and lingering sectarian tensions, Chalk's music represents a deliberate counter-narrative. "There still feels the need to come together," Cullen emphasizes. "No hate, no division." Their album Crystalpunk, released on Alter Music, serves as both personal expression and political statement in a city still unknotting itself from its troubled past.
