Protest The Hero's' influential third album, Scurrilous turns 10 this year and we have commentary on the album from former bassist Arif Mirabdolbaghi. Enjoy the read and let us know your thoughts on Scurrilous ten years later.

First of all, how does it feel knowing Scurrilous turns 10 this year?

It's difficult to process it like that. In many ways it feels like a hundred years ago. In other ways it feels like somebody else's life entirely. I can't say for certain whether I'd have realized it was 10 years ago if you hadn't asked me to answer these questions. I've spent the decade hurtling away from that version of myself, and I don't always recognize now who I was then.

How did you feel when the album came out?

Proud of the work but beginning to conceive of a life beyond it. My ambitions were diverging from those of the group, and big questions about what I wanted out of life were percolating. I couldn't have expressed it clearly at the time but in my heart I knew my tenure was winding down.

Where do you think the album fits in the band's legacy?

The most important change that occurred was Rody taking control of lyrics and showing the audience more of the complexity and vulnerability that makes him such a compelling artist. It's worth noting: Rody is a songwriter in a community of riffmakers. Scurrilous proved that, and brought a level of intimacy and sincerity to the work that's not easily comparable across the genre.

How did the band approach writing? What inspired the lyrics?

Prior to Scurrilous our writing process was pretty much potluck. Everyone brought ideas to rehearsal and we worked, slowly and collectively, toward a common goal. It was a clunky system but the results were scrappy and organic. Scurrilous introduced GuitarPro which was an important step for creative experimentation, but what we gained in workflow we lost in physical connection to the songs. By the following album, there was even less collectivity in our process which further alienated me and the kind of playing I would've liked to explore on those records.

As for lyrics, I only wrote a few but they reflected a young person living in a metropolis and discovering the beautiful anonymity that major cities can offer. In the suburbs I was a token ethnic guy who played bass in a popular band. In the city I was just one of millions getting-by. I thought about anonymity a lot in those days. The tracks I wrote lyrics for - C'est La Vie, Moonlight, and Sex Tapes - are full of references-to and reflections-on permanence, transience, and other ways we engage with the margins.

I won't speak for Rody's lyrics other than to say how much I've always enjoyed them. I'll thank him till my dying day for Dunsel which I felt from the bottom of my heart and performed with the anger and catharsis it demands.

Do any of the themes touched on the album still hold relevant for you?

Of course. I still toast the failing health of music industry executives. I still swoon when Chris Hannah enunciates an F-word. I still believe saints walk the earth. I still take a moment to reflect when the subway PA announces an injury at track level. I live in a different sprawling metropolis of millions, ten thousand kilometres from where we wrote Scurrilous, but I see the same anonymous faces with their unspoken triumphs and setbacks pass by me every single day.

What were your hopes and expectations for the record during the writing and recording process?

Hope is a measure against the prospect of failure, so I guess I hoped Scurrilous - or any album - would challenge listeners against the possibility of their disapproval.

When you were in the studio, how was the morale of everyone?

Working in a studio is a learned practice. I don't think I was developed enough artistically to push past the nerves and enjoy the experience. The rest of the guys were somehow comfortable enough to the point of flatulence which itself didn't do much to improve the ambience. I've since learned to love studio recording, which probably correlates to having a clearer idea of who I am as an artist and what I want to say.

When was the last time you listened to the record? Are there memories and emotions that come back?

It'd been awhile, let's put it that way. I tend to listen to the records every once in a while when I've made a new friend and we're swapping stories about our past. I like the feeling it gives me so I respect that by saving it for special occasions.

Were there any bands in particular you enjoyed playing with while touring for the record?

We did a European tour with Long Distance Calling. I thought it was a nice pairing because the hypnotic nature of their show played well against the disjointed nature of ours. I've always admired when bands put some thought into curating their tour packages, and this was an instance where the organizers got it right.

How did things change for the band after the album came out?

It was quite a muscular time in the band's career. The shows weren't always huge but they were ours and usually well-attended. Eventually we sought support opportunities with bigger artists, but it didn't always pan out. We toured a lot but the places matter less than the people in them. If I'm a joyful person today it's because I spent a few long years absorbing good vibes from people around the world. I hope to spend the rest of my life paying it back.

Do you remember what you were listening to at the time?

I think the most relevant to our conversation would be Mastodon. I admired how Crack The Skye and The Hunter opened up their compositions, like cracking a window to let the breeze in. It's still something I think a lot of prog- bands could stand to experiment with -- in fact I'm sure they are and I just don't know it.

Do you think of the album any differently now than you did when you recorded it?

I hear the naivety, I hear the questions, I hear the effort. I think of it now as exactly it was -- a self-fulfilling opportunity to make music with my friends and make friends with my music.

Did you ever expect the album to have the influence it did?

It's humbling to be part of something considered influential, but it's important to remember that the significance of influence is on the person who is being influenced. In other words, if you consider my music influential thank you for finding a connection in it. I've felt inspired by people too, and to think I'm able to pay that feeling forward for someone else is an absolute grace.