Chapter 24 and the Greek Underground: Revisiting Their Origins Through ‘Tin Invaders’
Few bands from the Greek underground can claim the continuity, depth, and creative refusal to sit still that define Chapter 24.
Formed in Ioannina in 1982, the group, known in Greece as Kefalaio 24, has remained anchored to the same core trio from the very beginning: Antonis Livieratos, Vangelis Boulouhtsis, and Periklis Boulouhtsis. Across more than four decades, they have navigated an unusually broad range of territory, moving freely between post-punk songwriting, ambient sound design, experimental electroacoustic work, and commissioned music for film. What has held everything together is philosophy of curiosity, trust, and a shared sense that music is something discovered together rather than manufactured.
Their 1988 debut album ‘Tin Invaders,’ originally released by the now-mythic Di Di label, captured their early vision at a moment when independent Greek music was operating far from the spotlight. Recorded on a modest four-track machine that literally traveled in a duffel bag between cities, the album distilled the DIY spirit of an era in which resources were limited but imagination was not. For years it remained one of those underground artifacts whispered about rather than widely heard.
That changes in 2025. Sound Effect Records reissued ‘Tin Invaders’ in newly remastered form, available on black and red vinyl as well as a double CD package. The second disc features ‘The Black Baron Strikes Back – Tin Invaders Reloaded,’ a complete live reinterpretation of all nine tracks, recorded onstage at Monk in Larissa during the album’s 31st-anniversary mini-tour. Far from a nostalgic exercise, these performances stretch, reshape, and open the original material. The result is a dialogue across decades, between the band’s past and the musicians they are still becoming.
“We’ve always believed songs should be treated as living things”
You’ve talked about the “creative chaos” of those early days, and that story about the four-track tape machine traveling around in a duffel bag is fantastic. It really feels like the perfect metaphor for the band’s journey. Now that you’re looking back, is there a small, unexpected memory or feeling from those early days that suddenly came back to you?
Antonis Livieratos: The first thing that comes to mind is that sweet feeling of freedom. The four-track recorder was truly liberating for us. Since we couldn’t afford time in a professional studio, it became our back door into the world of multitrack recording and mixing. It also allowed the three of us to keep making music together even while living in different cities. That spirit of “doing it ourselves” really defined us back then—and in many ways, it was our main source of hope.
What was it about Syd Barrett that made you take your name from “Chapter 24”?
Syd was a truly unique musician. We were big fans at the time and still are. Beyond that, we were looking for a neutral name, one that wouldn’t shape people’s expectations before hearing our music. Chapter 24 felt like the right choice.
The ‘80s were a wild time for independent music in Greece. You were working with a four-track cassette machine in Ioannina while other scenes were developing in Athens and Thessaloniki. Did you feel part of something bigger, or was it more like you were making music in your own world for yourselves and a few friends?
In small towns, you always feel a bit cut off from the rest of the world, and musicians outside the mainstream are often treated like the odd kids next door. But we never felt like we were playing only for ourselves or a small circle of friends. From the beginning, we believed that sooner or later our music would find its audience, scattered though it might be.
‘Until Tin Invaders’ came out and began receiving good reviews, we didn’t feel part of anything larger. Even then, it wasn’t like joining a major movement. The Greek independent scene of the ’80s wasn’t really valued until much later.
Let’s talk about the ‘Tin Invaders’ reissue. You’ve said you’re proud of the original, and rightly so. What was it like going back to those old masters? Did it feel like opening a time capsule? Did you discover anything you had forgotten, or was it more like catching up with your younger selves?
We had already rediscovered ‘Tin Invaders’ before the idea of a reissue came up. And yes, it definitely reconnected us with our younger selves.
It was our first LP, so it had been stored in a sort of secret room inside us. Opening that door again swept us away. But instead of treating it with nostalgia, we decided to build a new relationship with it.
The story behind ‘Dwarves’ and ‘Coming of Age’ is amazing…from the “Giafka-Sound” studio to the lost master of ‘No One Scares Me.’ Does it feel like picking up a conversation you paused 35 years ago?
Yes, that’s probably exactly what happened. After recording those tracks, we moved into a different creative phase, focusing on instrumental material where improvisation was central. ‘Dwarves’ and ‘Coming of Age’ were practically forgotten. Hearing them again after so many years, we were surprised at how much stronger they were than we remembered.
The lyrics in ‘Dwarves’ and ‘Coming of Age’ are very personal. One is a wild fantasy about a desperate character, and the other is a touching reflection on a family member’s major life change. How do these personal stories fit into the bigger picture of Chapter 24?
Music is, above all, a universal language. And when you want to connect with others in a genuine way, you have to reveal something of yourself. Otherwise, communication remains superficial. Personal stories resonate because they allow listeners to recognize something of themselves in them. What begins as personal can become collective.
‘The Black Baron Strikes Back’ project is fascinating. Taking short, minimal tracks from ‘Tin Invaders’ and turning them into extended, kraut-rock-style jams is a bold move. What inspired that? Did it grow naturally in rehearsal, or did you intentionally decide to push the original material further?
When we decided to perform ‘Tin Invaders’ live again, we had no clear plan for how to approach it. The new versions emerged spontaneously during rehearsals. Subconsciously, though, we probably felt there was unfinished business with that material—things we hadn’t fully explored in terms of structure, arrangement, or atmosphere. Revisiting it in this way allowed us to resolve those issues naturally and joyfully.
You said you didn’t approach the reinterpretations with too much reverence. We love that, because it sounds like you gave yourselves freedom to experiment. What surprised you most when you began stretching the ‘Tin Invaders’ material and improvising?
Improvisation has always been part of our music, even before ‘Tin Invaders.’ The four-track recorder limited how much of that could appear on the album. Playing the record live brought improvisation back to the forefront, and improvisation is always a box full of surprises.
We’ve always believed songs should be treated as living things, not museum pieces. They need fresh air from time to time.
Over all these years, what has been the key to keeping Chapter 24 active and creative? Is it a shared vision, a deep musical friendship, or something else?
It’s both: a shared vision and a friendship that goes beyond music. We’ve always thought of ourselves as a kind of chosen family, not connected by blood, but by choice.
Across your career…from avant-rock to film scores, it’s clear you’re always searching creatively. When you write new music now, do you have a specific sound in mind, or do you follow the music wherever it takes you?
Definitely the latter. Whenever we’re in the same place with instruments, we have never failed to create music. There’s a spontaneous coordination that leads us to a shared destination in a way that’s difficult to explain.
Only a small percentage of what we’ve recorded has ever been released, but we’ve learned to accept that.
What’s it like seeing the renewed interest in lo-fi and post-punk sounds from the ‘80s? Does it feel like people are finally catching up, or is it more of a full-circle moment where you can see the long-term impact of your work?
Living through an era is very different from looking back at it. Things that felt crucial at the time may now seem small, while the ordinary can turn out to be unique.
That’s why it’s so interesting to see the ’80s through the eyes of younger people—especially musicians—who genuinely love the music of that period.
What’s it like holding the new ‘Tin Invaders’ LP in your hands?
It’s pure joy. Thanks to the new mastering, the album can finally be heard as we intended from the beginning. Without ignoring the historical value of the original release, we have to admit that we always felt its sound didn’t do the material justice.
And finally, what’s next? New music? More live shows?
Our plan is that there is no plan. Chapter 24 has always felt like an autonomous entity greater than the sum of its members, so we can’t predict what comes next.
That said, we do have an instrumental album already recorded, mixed, and mastered. It will be released soon as a tribute to a dear friend who worked on it but is no longer with us.
One last question: what records have you enjoyed recently?
We’re always searching for new music, but we also revisit old favorites.
Vangelis has been listening to Soft Machine, Savage Republic, and has rediscovered ‘Lone Rhino’ by Adrian Belew.
Periklis is mostly immersed in his Can records.
I myself enjoy Beak>, ‘Connection’ by Marc Ribot’s Ceramic Dog, and ‘Fried’ by Julian Cope.
Klemen Breznikar
Headline photo: Chapter 24 (1988)
Chapter 24 (1988) Facebook / Bandcamp
Sound Effect Records Official Website / Facebook
