The Cancer Bats have never been anything but open about their affection for the giants of metal and the pioneers of American hardcore. But when the members of the Toronto four-piece began writing material for their sophomore album, Hail Destroyer, they had goals beyond being faster than Minor Threat, louder than Led Zeppelin, and heavier than Soundgarden smacked out on golden-era Sabbath.

“We’re huge Tegan and Sara fans,” says Cancer Bats vocalist Liam Cormier, on the line from a Red Deer, Alberta, tour stop. “When their new record [The Con] came out, we loved that every song sounded totally different, but still totally ruled. Listening to records like that and hearing them work so well made us think, ‘Hey, we could explore all these ideas that we’re really excited about, and hopefully have them all tie together.’ ”

About to be released on Distort Entertainment, Hail Destroyer does indeed find the Cancer Bats tearing up new ground, but not in a way that’s going to alienate fans of their stun-gun-punk debut, Birthing the Giant (2006). Tracks like “Deathsmarch” and “Let It Pour” sound as stripped-raw and mean as anything you’ll hear on the Warped Tour this summer. At the same time, Hail Destroyer finds the Bats unleashing their inner rivetheads. “Smiling Politely” works a groove almost as deadly as Pantera’s Far Beyond Driven, and “Lucifer’s Rocking Chair” takes made-in-the-South metal down to a grinding, smoking crawl. Continuing on the slow-drag tip, if you like the Melvins, you’ll love the morphined grunge of “Bastard’s Waltz”.

That Hail Destroyer sounds like the work of four guys pushing themselves hard artistically is appropriate. Cormier describes himself and his bandmates—guitarist Scott Middleton, bassist Jaye R. Schwarzer, and drummer Mike Peters—as being too gung ho for their own good. After a year touring hard enough to impress Black Flag–era Henry Rollins, the Cancer Bats didn’t make things easy for themselves in the studio.

“We toured so much, we didn’t have the time we needed,” Cormier relates. “We ended up jamming seven days a week, practising 12 hours a day, working in shifts. What I liked was that, in the end, we didn’t burn out. We still love each other.”

That sense of positivity is all over Hail Destroyer, most noticeably in “PMA ’Til I’m DOA”, where Cormier screams “Every day is the best day of my life.” When asked what keeps him so upbeat, the singer responds that the Cancer Bats have basically given him a reason to live. Even though a tour van has been his unofficial home for the past couple of years, he indeed sees every day as nothing less than a blessing.

“When I started this band, I was at rock bottom with nothing going on,” he says. “I’d just turned 25, I had no job, my girlfriend had broken up with me, and I’d moved back to Toronto, where I was literally living on a friend’s kitchen floor. From that rock-bottom point, you are able to appreciate everything that happens. We may not be the biggest band in the world, but even when we play Saskatoon and 160 kids come out, I feel like I’m at the top of the world.”

The Cancer Bats play the Ukrainian Hall on Saturday (March 8).