If you bring together Lee Buford of The Body, Kristin Hayter of LinguaIgnota and Dylan Walker of Full of Hell for a project, you’ll get something special. That’s one thing to be certain of and you would know this is if you’re familiar with the relationship between these acts. Kristin Hayter is not someone who takes collaborations lightly and chemistry is essential. The result, Sightless Pit, is an audio exploration of bleak existence and darkness, unlike another on ‘Grave of a Dog’.
The vocal intro to ‘Kingscorpse’ instantly gives you the chills. It’s that weary, forlorn intonation of Hayter that lulls you to a sense of calm. Before you know it, the heavily distorted and gritty vocals overwhelm you over a steady beat. It is pulsating, threatening, dark. An incessant beat that swells and pushes you along into ‘Immersion Dispersal’. You feel as if you’re deep underground at some ‘end of the world’ techno party, where Skinny Puppy worshippers gather.
That vibe is only further enhanced with the ritualistic introduction to ‘The Ocean of Mercy’. It’s remarkable how there’s always tension. Even during the mellow, droney parts of this song with the clean vocals, it’s looming. I have to think of some of the more ambient works by Ulver. The oft angelical singing of Hayter breaks through the haze of noise and crackling effects, providing a new clarity.
Throbbing sounds guide us on ‘Violent Rain’, which takes us back to the minimalism of earlier tracks on the album. It’s a long build-up towards the minimalist piano and a bridge to the much more visceral ‘Drunk on Marrow’. A gloomy, dystopian soundscape, with barking bursts of distortion and pulse that booms in your ears like blood pumping through your veins at full force. In turn, ‘Miles of Chain’ feels more harsh and noisy, with a martial beat that reigns over the roaring sounds and reverberations. It’s a hazy track that turns more sinister and dark as it continues onwards, opening the gate for more darkness to seep in on ‘Whom The Devil Long Sought To Strangle’. Pounding rhythms and minimal, destroyed instrumentations lead us onwards, further down into the pit…
To end up with the sheer magic and tenderness of ‘Love is Dead, All Love is Dead’. It’s despair in its most fragile, hopeless form. A heap of shivering vulnerability, that is left when all is stripped away. It evokes a feeling of guilt, sadness, the sense of inevitableness. We did this, as a world and planet. But that, like anything here, is interpretation, but it’s one based on the power of evocation in this song and the whole album.
Label: Independent Band: Divide and Dissolve Origin: Australia
It’s convenient sometimes to think that the whole world is alright. We’re wrong though. Divide and Dissolve are highlighting some issues that are still part of our landscape and life. White supremacy is, according to Takiaya Reed and Sylvie Nehill, still a part of the world around us and the wounds of the past have not fully healed. That is what ‘Abomination’ is about.
Takiaya is part Cherokee and Sylvie part Maaori. Their music is designed to decolonize and decentralize and pay homage to the ancestors. With drums, guitar, saxophone, and live effects, they make music that shakes the walls and breaks down common perceptions of the world around us. I’m hooked. From a comfortable background, it’s too easy for me to say that all is well when there’s still so much hurt in the world. Luckily, those voices are heard.
The music is absolutely punishing with erratic patterns and a deep, droning vibe to it on opening track ‘Abomination’. The drums are so you feel them inside your bones before we get into the eerie intro of ‘Assimilation’. Almost painful, almost grotesque, is it still a beautiful howling effect that you here? Before you can really process it, the lumbering bass and drums hit you again. It stomps and curdles onward, through the next track, all the way to ‘Reversal’, which is a spoken word section about the immigrant mind. The light music support only emphasizes the words, makes them stronger and more potent. It’s touching in its alienating form, but also is the only word of explanation the record offers us.
At times the music almost feels ritualistic or even slightly jazzy, like the tune ‘Resistance’. There’s a mystique, a feeling of movie-like suspense to the tune. Repetitive riffs come by, enriched with even further effects and sounds that take you into this trippy realm. The sound is strangely subdued, almost inaudible at times and less structured on ‘Re-Appropriation’ and ‘Reparations’. They feel like strange sound experiments, full of droning bass lines.
‘Indigenous Sovereignty’ is the short, but foreboding closer of the album. Perhaps a sign, a light, showing what is to come in the following years. Guiding the path for change.
I like cats. I don’t think this should surprise anyone, because I’ve mentioned that before. So if you have an album cover that looks a bit odd, but features a black cat and a cool sounding name like Midnight Coven, there’s a fair chance I’ll check it out. And, I have to say, I do not regret listening to ‘Bewitched’.
The project is initially a solo endeavour by Aaron Baker, a 27-year old multi-instrumentalist who has several other projects going. I haven’t been able to find out much more, but there are some musical references given like Deep Purple and Black Sabbath. That’s never a bad thing in my book, so let’s get to the music.
‘Sinister’ sounds much like any witchy sounding, doomy psychy band you may be familiar with. Angsty, creepy… Think Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, but a bit on overdrive on vocal effects. It’s cool. And weird. I guess both. I don’t get why the sound is rather wonky though. It wasn’t my headphones, I checked. What it does, is add a little spooky vibe to the song. The same goes for ‘Blood on the Wall’, which at times feels as if it’s merging all parts together into a formless mass of evil creeping up to you. The vocals are something else though, and might even hint at modern psych bands with that nasal tone that keeps sorta poking at you.
But let’s get down to the more doomy, theatric side of the record with ‘Midnight Summoning’. There’s certain bombast to the sound of the streaming guitars. A lot of space is left for those stadium rock-Oasis riffs that blow out with a slight dissonance as you’re familiar with from many pscyh bands. That slightly snotty whingy vibe, but Midnight Coven can do the riffing too in a grand heavy metal style. Just listen to the opening of ‘Corporate Slave’. Tell me that doesn’t sound like ‘Looks that kill’ by Mötley Crüe’. And that’s a great tune, so it works well here too in that specific vibe. At times the sound can be a bit highly processed though, which is very audible on ‘Welcome to the Horror Show’. The drums feel mechanic, the bass is just too perfect, and those soaring sounds in the back make it feel like you’re listening in a very, very tiny room. Does the job, though.
So, Midnight Coven is simply weird. It’s a weird sounding band, and therefore really cool. On closer ‘Conditioned Nation’, I like the flow, but I feel as if I’m listening to a synth track at some points. The lumbering guitars are so thick, like a frosty milkshake. The vocals are very clear on this track, though, which creates a unique vibe. I say, just check ‘m out.
It should come as no surprise that I’m excited about a new Possessor record. The horror-inspired doomsters from the United Kingdom have been quite prolific in the last few years, and they are one of the rare bands that I’ve interviewed twice already (you can read the interviews here, and here, they’re quite fun).
The main inspiration for this group is hard to define. Where before I had a strong Sabbath vibe from these gents, now we’re moving more towards a punky, upbeat sound. It must be that first wave-style black metal influence, but also, most definitely, Black Flag. It’s more energetic, pushier, more domineering. I mean, it’s all good stuff and good clean fun.
So the horror samples are still there, and you only need to glance at their artwork to get that vibe. ‘Gravelands’ is less spooky though, it’s more ‘scary-biker-gang-might-be-werewolves’ scary. I suppose that’s a thing. After that hardcore beatdown beat on ‘Jim The Mutilator’ (obscure reference to the Rotting Christ originator?), the buzzsaw bassline on ‘Backwoods’ is pretty rad.
We turn a darker corner on ‘Savage Rampage’, with a higher pace, which approaches that primitive sound of bands like Midnight. The guitar riffs definitely contribute to that, no warm walls, but gritty, grim bursts hit your darkening mood. All good and set to go for the next bangers, which are ‘Breathe Fire’ and ‘Creature of Havoc’. Here we get back to the good old hard-rocking vibes we love about Possessor. Punchy, heavy sounding tunes, with nice heavy metal hooks and riffs. It feels like music made for a simpler time. It feels odd to get this classic metal vibe in these times, but it also just feels fucking good to hear these riffs that sound like sludgy Iron Maiden efforts.
‘Hiking To Hell’ underlines the coolness of this album again, by returning more to the grimy, repetitive sound and mossy walls of sound from their ‘Dead By Dawn’ album. Groovy stuff. You gotta love Possessor.
Our world still holds plenty of mysteries. There are intricacies, complexities and connections, we can hardly fathom, all around us. Some people tap into the beyond, into the mystery of sound and vibration. One of those is Dylan Carson, a modern day musical shaman and explorer, who by that time had just released ‘Full Upon Her Burning Lips’ with his band Earth.
On this album, he is exploring a more feminine spirit, a sensuality that is almost transcendental. Carson has his roots in the grunge scene, has gone through the darkness of addiction, lost his good friend to suicide (yes, Kurt Cobain) and somehow has emerged as an icon in a musical style that is entirely his own.
Carlson is often called the father of drone metal. Not a moniker he would pick, but one he gratefully accepts. Currently, as we talk over Skype with a bunch of disruptions on the line as friends try to reach him, he is staying in Los Angeles. For the film soundtrack he is making, but also because he will be moving there in December. It’s a lot more sunny in L.A. he concurs: “It’s way warmer up here, nicer weather for sure!”, he chuckles.
We talk about the new album, Full Upon Her Burning Lips, which recently came out. But also about his solo record Conquistador, on which he collaborated with Emma Ruth Rundle. And Bagpipes.
Never Mind The Hype let me interview Dylan for last years’ Le Guess Who? festival, a fest I’ve never visited. I was happy to do so anyway.
Good vibrations and universal harmonies
What do you think about the Le Guess Who? Festival yourself? “It’s one of my favorite festivals. I’m not crazy about festivals, but this one always has an interesting program and many people are there that I’d love to meet. Not that I get to usually, but last time I was there I saw jazz icon Pharaoh Sanders perform. That is really cool!”
How does Earth fit within the confines of a festival like Le Guess Who? And how did you end up playing there this year? “Well, The Bug is one of the curators and we did an album together, so I think that’s how it went. But why we fit in is that even though people love boxing us into genres or microgenres, Earth has always tried to do something new, always pushed itself into new directions. That fits within the confines of this festival very well. As a musician, I don’t feel confined to microgenres. I make music, as best as I can, but I can’t affect the way people deal with that. But we play all sorts of festivals, because we are not limited to just heavy music. We’ve done Hellfest, Primavera, but also Le Guess Who? and Levitation festival. That’s a big range. Big Ears in Knoxville is another one of my favorites by the way. We’re not stuck in a corner, we can go many different ways with Earth.”
Is that what gives you more freedom in starting up collaborations? “Definitely. I’ve done a lot of those and I’m always open for new opportunities. It’s all about being open to possibilities and look for that ‘common ground’. If that’s not there, it won’t work. Our collab with Kevin ‘The Bug’ Martin is a good example. Even though he grew up hating guitars, we have a lot of similarities in our taste for music and love for dub. Even though we come from opposite worlds, there was enough of a match to do something very cool. So kudos to Kevin for having the guts to do this.”
Do you ever worry if such a collaboration will work out? “If it doesn’t work out, you just won’t release it. No one will have to suffer through it. I’ve had those in the past, where it just didn’t work out. But now, I think I’ve done this long enough to know early on if something will work or not, if the audience would like it or not. I believe in ‘happy accidents’, just letting things happen. If it’s a lot of work and effort, the magic just isn’t there.”
For your solo album ‘Conquistador’ you worked with Emma Ruth Rundle. How did that happen?
“She’s just fucking amazing. I seriously can’t praise her enough, both as musician and as a human being. I’m so happy to see all the recognition she is getting, because she deserves every bit of it. She is one of the few people I always love seeing perform. She is signed to the same label as us, Sargent House, though I met her earlier when we did a show with Marriages and Deafheaven in LA. I borrowed her amp and we’ve sorta become friends since. When I was working on ‘Conquistador’, our schedules matched and we met in the studio of Kurt Ballou to work on some music. So that’s what happened.”
How was it for you to create a solo record, instead of an Earth record? “With Earth there are always multiple people involved, which makes the process more complex. Solo I simply have more freedom and a white canvas, possibilities for collaborations, but it also feels more free for me. Though Earth is not a formula, you always look for progress and continuity. Not that there’s a set course, but we don’t want to repeat ourselves while there may be directions I’d like to play with a bit more. The theme of an imaginary western you could here on ‘Hex, Or Printing in the Infernal Method’, so that was a done deal for Earth. ‘Conquistador’ allowed me to further explore that theme.”
“But what was also an influence, is that we had just left Southern Lord. I knew that finding a new label was going to take time and we had just toured intensively for our previous album Primitive & Deadly. There was need for a break, and I had all this music I wanted to work on. So I took the progressions I had and made my own songs with those. So it was a time of finding our bearings and experimenting.”
If I understand you correctly here, Earth is kind of your highway and solo work enables you to take all those interesting byways and explore, is that correct? “That’s basically it. Earth is the main focus of my career, but there’s so much else I want to do. This enables me to do that and it helps my creative process. Making music is one of the few things in my life I haven’t had problems with. It helps me find the right flow, also in other aspects of my life. I feel very fortunate to be able to work on music all the time and I don’t want to waste any of that time. The fact that I once just… disappeared for 5 years, showed up again and was embraced, is something I’m very grateful for.”
But that’s also your own doing. You get called the father of drone for a reason. “Well yes, that. The fact that people respect what I did so much and validate it, that’s an incredible honor. That’s what motivates me to try hard and keep innovating, not rest on my laurels. I could have made Earth 2 25 times, but that’s not how I want to be remembered.”
Does the solo work make you hungry for more? “Definitely. I’m currently working on the soundtrack for the film From A Son and I hope this will be released as a solo album too.”
You’ve often said you’d like to make soundtracks and this is your second, right? How did this happen? “I’ve made a soundtrack for a German film, called Gold. This is the second. The director of From A Son is Gilbert Trejo, son of Danny Trejo, who plays in the movie. His production manager Kyle pitched my music and Gilbert liked it. He tried what it would be like by using some Earth songs and music from Conquistador as place holders and it was a fit. Kyle happened to know my manager Cathy and contacted her. Long story short, I got to make a soundtrack.”
“The process itself has been pretty intuitive. I watched the movie, which gave me some ideas. We then played the movie and I basically jammed to it. Then it’s a whole process of cutting, pasting, filling, adding… Until you have it. Austin from Starcrawler added percussion to the recordings. All in all, this was a very straightforward process. Similar to Gold actually, though there they were shooting while I was composing, so I would get bits of the film sent my way. That was interesting.”
I’ve actually seen you play another soundtrack. In Ghent you did a live soundtrack for the 70’s psychedelic movie Belladonna of Sadness. “Ah, but that was a different process. They actually expected us to play an Earth set, but instead we composed a whole soundtrack. We watched the movie a number of times, chose a number of themes and worked with that. That developed into what we played live that night and which has shaped part of the new album, like the song Descending Bella.
We actually should talk about your new album, but first, you did sign with Sargent House. What made you join their roster? “Cathy Pellow was already our manager and that’s why my solo record is out on Sargent House. Going there with Earth was a natural choice. Cathy is fantastic, really good with artists, supportive and I like her way of doing business. We just click and Sargent House is a great label, with camaraderie between artists I haven’t experienced before.”
Full Upon Her Burning Lips is the first record you’ve done with Adrienne Davis as a duo. Why did you choose for that and how did it work out? “I felt that on previous records, we had to give way to a lot of other instruments. That’s not a complaint, I worked with great people and I’m happy with those records. But I wanted to see if I could give more room for the essence. The drums also could do with more space I felt. By making this record with the two of us, we get to show what Earth sounds like at its core. And I got to play bass, which I like, so that is cool.”
“The process was very smooth. Most of the material was composed a month before we went into the studio, and there everything just got together naturally. It’s again a very intuitive process, where most of the overdubs, solo’s, and bass lines are improvised in the studio. The basis for the song was just there to complete.”
Did you have a clear concept for this record, like you did for previous ones? “That’s actually one thing that was very different on this album. I had various ideas, but not one big concept. My wife, Polly, she’s a dancer and I thought a lot about music and dance, which are so separate in today’s world. I also read a lot of books from Tanith Lee, which have many sensual themes. I wanted to create a record that was more feminine, more sensual, as opposed to the hypermasculinity of heavy music, but also play with dance. Dance is not just for EBM, it’s a form of getting together, interacting physically, of ritual. It’s a communal thing that I find very important.”
I noticed that this whole record refers to that essence. Just the design of the cover, with its 70’s hardrock reference and the picture of you two, it really points to your roots. “That picture was not intended for the cover, but when I saw it, I knew it was just right. It’s the band itself, and this design makes me think of classic albums like the debut by The Stooges. It was just right.”
Could you tell me what, in your view, is that core or essence of Earth. That which makes the band unique? Is that drone? “I see drone as more of a technique. In music theory, it’s called an oblique motion and that can be found in numerous types of music. From Indian meditation, classical music, blues to even Scottish bagpipes. What attracts me to that sound is the open string you work with or against. I think that’s what I’ve always done in my music. Many people think of massive amps and volume when they hear drone, but there are drones in a hurdy gurdy or acoustic music. That’s what I love anyways. Tempo has always been less interesting to me so we’re sort of countering that, which was particularly interesting when we started out in a time when each band wanted to be the fastest in the world. Within those factors there are many directions to explore and as long as this is all in there, it’s Earth I think. Currently I’m using a lot of chromatic movements, which is something new in my music. But that’s still an oblique motion.”
All these examples you mention, like a hurdy gurdy and bagpipes, those create a sound that I think resonates with people. Isn’t that part of the charm? “It might be my Scottish heritage, which makes me cursed with liking bagpipes. But did you know the bagpipe was really used everywhere until the accordion became available? I read somewhere the king of Hungary even burned all bagpipes then and forced people to buy accordions. Maybe that’s where bagpipes got their bad name, but it’s definitely a global instrument.”
“But I feel, making music, that I’m just a conduit for music that’s already there. Like a pipe, the way I’m shaped affects the final form. That vibration though, it’s already there, the universe is all about vibrations. Solid matter are standing waves and I like the idea of a sustained note, that is fed and keeps resounding, which touches us. It’s a shared, universal resonance. Music and dance are the original technologies for ecstasy and transcendence. When I play a really good show, I never remember it afterwards, I disappear into it. When I think too much, when it’s a lot of work, then I remember it. It’s still a good show, people enjoy it, but it’s where I don’t lose myself in that vibration of the music.”
Is that how you experience collaborations? Is there that shared resonance that you look for? “I think so, but it’s also a form of synergy. The sum needs to be larger than the parts, if that’s all good, it’s going to work out.”
Now and then, I write some reviews about records that I find enjoyable. I enjoyed these pieces of drone, synth and magic.
Earthencloak – Pipe Smoke & Faery Magick
Something exciting is happening in the dungeon synth genre. To be honest, it’s been going on for a while, but the sound is expanding. Certainly, purists argue about things like winter synth and other names, but the root of all these artists to me is similar. Steeped in atmosphere and storytelling in a straight-forward, isolated fashion that takes me back to the books and video games I grew up with. Yes, let’s nerd it out to this one, inspired by the artwork of Rien Poortvliet’s gnomes: Earthencloak. True fucking gnome synth and I love it.
Much like Fief, Earthencloak is not echoing the vast, dusty crypts of the traditional dungeon synth, but emulates joyful, foresty freedom. You feel that pleasure, that lush green land, with the bells and sprinkly keys on ‘The Rabbits, the Bees, the Whistling Trees’. It’s carefree and joyous music, certainly with the regular elements, but free from the doom, gloom and lurking darkness. Yet, listening to ‘To Picnic Beneath Toadstools’ I feel the same transportation to fantasy land. Yet, it is much like in a videogame with a sandbox world: you are often happy to find that peaceful, tranquil place in between all the darkness, and that’s what Earthencloak offers. The xylophone-like sounds also help to embellish the theme, as you imagine the gnomes creating the music. Get lost for a while, the other stuff will be there when you return.
Elbrus – They Grasp And Fight For Wealth As The Whole World Burns
Elbrus is the highest mountain in Europe, to the great chagrin of the French. Its inclusion in the European continent was an interesting one at least. I’d love to climb that thing one day, that’s for sure. Anyways, Elbrus is also a drone/doom project by Tanya Byrne, known from Bismuth. She started the project in 2011, coding and playing soft instruments and playing through many many pedals. Byrne is also a scientist and that approach ad look at the world permeates her work, which is very environmentally conscious, as you can gather from the title of this release.
‘All Life Suffers’ rises up gradually, slowly. There’s a power behind the trembling notes, a force that can be instantly felt, but it’s also mournful. A dirge for a world in collapse, although that is my interpretation based on what I’m presented with. The howling winds of the drones take you into ‘The End of Man’ and as emotions overwhelm you, you find yourself wondering if that would even be such a bad thing. A torrent of noise, crackling and static, unleashes on ‘The Collapse’. Sparing notes reverberate through the haze, coming from everywhere bouncing back at you as the drones start swelling to an almost painful intensity. ‘The River’ rolls in towards the end with a lot of peculiar sounds. The flowing of water, chirping of birds and ethereal vocals as the sound waxes and wanes.
Castle Zagyx – Cavaliers of the Western Heartlands
D&D inspired dungeon synth? Well, yes, I’m interested in that and CastleZagyx (a play on Gygax?) has done quite well with this record, titled ‘Cavaliers of the Western Heartlands’, an album full of songs dedicated to aspects of the sword coast in the Forgotten Realms. For those who don’t know, the Forgotten Realms are campaign setting created by Ed Greenwood, who also holds the rights to it. It’s the most successful setting, which has spawned a ton of books and background materials. Including are Ed Greenwoods self-gratifying Elminster books, a character based on himself that bangs absolutely any fabled beauty in the realms and survives death endlessly. It’s weird. Anyways, Castle Zagyx describes himself as a musician, grognard and reader and that’s what we have on him. Time to dig into the sounds of this one.
Castle Zagyx plays with drones and folky tunes, a bit in the vein of the above Earthencloak, but more rigid and stern, paying homage to the high fantasy aspect of its inspiration. ‘Rite of Passage’ includes Gregorian chanting, bagpipe sounds and eerie percussions. It’s like walking between the massive pillars of a forgotten temple towards that which is holy. But then the sound dwindles, shimmers and takes on a more mysterious vibe. And this is how we travel the lands, from the gates of Myth Drannor to the Dragonmere lake and onwards, ‘In Search Of Adventure’, full of strings, hope and bravery. It’s a bit cheesy at times, but if you didn’t like that you wouldn’t be reading this. And if you do love it, then ‘Honoring Tempus With My Vorpal Sword’ is the absolute climax of the record, soaring upwards with strings swinging and tensions brewing in a truly Hollywood-way, dazzling you with bright lights and explosions. Oh yeah!
Zandvoort & Uilenbal – Folk Triumfator
This is an intriguing project where electronic music meets medieval instruments. Collaborating under the alias Zandvoort & Uilenbal, we find medieval music expert Jimi Hellinga and electronic musician Danny Wolfers (Legowelt) working on a crossover between those classic instruments and electronic drones and ambient. Think hurry gurdy, Victorian harmonium, thumb harps and a German Mixtur Trautonium. Medieval drone space jazz sounds about like the weirdest stuff you are going to hear, but if you dig transporting music, this is something to really delve into. This is the second album the duo has made under this name, and by all means, they should make some more if it were up to me.
The result is a droning, dreamy collage of sound-stories, like opener ‘Safe Sailing for the Galleon Caladrius’. There’s also some use made of spoken word on ‘But Slowly I Made It My Own’, which helps in creating a narrative, but mostly the duo just allows you to sink into the mellow drones and easy melody lines. Stretched out with some dungeon synthy elements, that still have that organic quality of the instruments used to create them. It feels like a highly crafted album, no easy stuff here. I particularly like the play on ‘A Ski Resort Was Buried In The Avalanche’, which makes me think of Kraftwerk a little due to the disjointed elements that still create a vivid image together.
Most of the interviews with an artist are because of the release of an album, or relevant news that involves the band. But, sometimes there is an artist that just that never sits still, continuously working on a total of fourteen projects at the same time. Krigeist, also known as Andrew Campbell, plays in Barshasketh, Brón, Belliciste, Dunkelheit and who knows what other musical project he is involved in…
Andrew carries out everything he does with enormous passion and dedication. This is very fascinating if you keep in mind these are not only studio projects. Barshasketh visited the Netherlands several times. Andrew found some gaps in his busy schedule for us to answer questions about his music, inspiration, and how he keeps everything in balance, whilst traveling the world.
Interview originally published on Never Mind The Hype.
Header: Krigeist in Tampere, foto Porta Atra (Source: Facebook page Barshasketh)
Following the Left Hand Path
I was wondering if you could tell me about yourself. Where you originally are from and how you got involved with black metal and in so many projects.
I’m originally from New Zealand, but I’ve not lived there in almost a decade now. I’ve relocated several times since I left, but I’ve now been based in Serbia for a few years.
Since a young age, I’d been looking for a type of music that fits with what I had in my mind and went through many phases searching for it, until I discovered Black Metal, which was everything I’d been searching for, both musically and ideologically. I got into the genre quite late I suppose, when I was around 18 or 19 years old. I think it was Dissection first, followed by Gorgoroth, Emperor, Mayhem as well as newer bands, such as those on the NoEvDia roster. From there it spiraled out of control until I was utterly consumed.
Most of my own projects outside of Barshasketh started due to the fact that the material I had written didn’t suit any of my existing projects, so new ones were needed to accommodate them. The other projects I am involved with were a result of strong connections with other individuals. As well as the projects I’m involved with that already have releases, I’m working on a multitude of others which should see releases in the near future.
How did Bashasketh get started and how would you describe the concept and idea you are expressing?
For me, it feels like your themes and lyrics hold a high level of complexity, though the words themselves are very direct and strong.
I started the band as a solo project around 12 years ago, almost concurrently with my discovery of Black Metal. Since then a number of members have come and gone, but the current lineup of GM, BB and MH and myself has become a lifetime brotherhood. When I started the band, it was a vehicle for me to explore and understand my spirituality and now it serves the same purpose for all four of us. As it’s a natural exploration of our paths through this sphere and beyond, it’s inevitably complex, as these things are never straight forward.
I’m very curious about what that spiritual aspect entails and what directions it has grown into. Could you tell me more about what inspires you? And would you say other projects have sort of grown out of that personal journey?
In the simplest terms, it’s an exploratory approach to the Left Hand Path. We don’t adhere to any specific school of thought, but rather use our own experiences, which we make sense of through our music and lyrics. With the creation of the last album, we have come to realize that this involves a continual cycle of destruction, purification and rebirth. Each time we throw ourselves deeper into the pit and the spirit is reborn in a stronger cast, with more knowledge and more certainty.
The inspiration behind what led us to choose this path is something difficult to pinpoint, however, the reason we have chosen to follow it purely through our own experience was that it seemed to be the only honest way for us to do so. We believe that spiritual growth must come from within, hence we have shunned extraneous influences for the most part.
I wouldn’t say this path has had a direct link on my other projects, although it has an effect on my existence as a whole, so there is undeniably some underlying influence on my other endeavors.
You mentioned that the band is now a whole as such. Does this mean the creation of this latest album was more of a cooperative effort? And can you tell me more about the process?
It was definitely more of a collaborative effort in some ways. As before, either GM or I would write all the guitars for a song, but this time BB and MK were left to write their own parts and put their own stamp on songs-so basically less dictation from our part. All members put forward ideas that were considered and taken on board. MK also contributed some synth parts and provided backing vocals, which was a first for us. Lyrically, I was responsible for the entirety of the lyrics (except for the Latin phrase in Recrudescence, which was the work of GM), but it was something that was discussed and reflected all of us.
BB and MK have also led GM and I to feel less restricted in our songwriting, as they are more than able to handle anything we throw at them.
As for the creative process, it was quite drawn out, with some of the songs being completed in their larval stages even before the release of Ophidian Henosis. As we are all separated geographically, there were months of sending material back and forward in various demo forms. If I recall correctly, the four of us were never in the same room during this process, but we did have one or two occasions with most of the members present to work out the finer details and experiment with structures.
The lyrics came last and were a much quicker process, as the concept was firmly in my mind when I began writing. I feel I should say that a lot of the lyrics were written while in Hungary with the Inner Awakening Circle, so I must thank them for their inspiration.
Can you tell me anything about the Inner Awakening Circle? And what made them so influential.
The Inner Awakening Circle is a Hungarian group of individuals and bands including Lepra, Niedergang and Dunkelheit (who I’m now playing guitar for). They’re very serious about what they do and there’s absolutely no bullshit. The experiences I had with them pushed me out of my comfort zone and pulled me further down, and solidified my conviction that I’ve chosen the right path for me.
Do you believe that this exploration, leaving the known behind, is essential for your art form as much as for personal growth? And are there instances you can describe to clarify how this has impacted your art and person with an anecdote?
Yes definitely, the two are completely intertwined. The personal growth from these experiences is reflected in the music. The music is the medium through which we make sense of the exploration and experiences.
As for specific instances or anecdotes, these are our own. All the things that we want to share in a public forum can be seen in our music and lyrics.
So you said that during the creation of your latest record under Barshasketh, you were never together in a room. But then I’m really curious how the process took place and how you arrange things. I also was wondering what makes you as a person so unbound by a place and how you relate the change of home perhaps to the music or vision you describe. As I see it, this could be a form of exploration too.
For the creation of the Barshasketh album, either GM or I would write all the guitars for a song, then we would send it to MK and BB to work out their drum and bass parts respectively. This involved a lot of sending demos back and forth until we were mostly satisfied. After that, when some of the members were able to get together, they would iron out details and small structural changes. It was quite an interesting way to do things as I’d often get one of my songs back sounding a lot different than I had originally had in mind.
When it comes to the various changes in location, it was all circumstantial really. It was mostly moving from place to place in order to stay in Europe so that Barshasketh could remain active, just keeping my head above water. The places themselves never had an influence on Barshasketh, but I think the upheaval of having to leave certain places without much warning did. The various places I’ve lived is something that is expressed more through Brón than any other of my projects.
Yeah, I was sort of steering in that direction because I’m very much fascinated by Bròn. Can you tell me how that entity came into being and how it has shaped up to be as diverse as it is?
As with all ‘side’ projects, Bròn came out of writing music that didn’t fit with any of my existing projects, both musically and thematically. Fògradh was written after I found out I would have to leave Scotland and it was inspired by my experiences living in that country. It was intended to be a one-off, but while living in Slovakia, shortly before moving to Serbia, Ànrach was written. The three songs deal with the influence that the natural environments of Scotland, New Zealand and Serbia had on me. It became clear at this point that this was a project dealing almost solely with the place.
I think I’ve reached something as absurd as 14 individual projects now – Krigeist
The diversity in material is due to the environment and the relationship to that environment that I’m expressing with each release. For example, the White City releases deals with Belgrade and day to day living in a huge urban expanse, which is quite far outside of my comfort zone. Black metal of any sort would simply have been an inappropriate medium to express those feelings. Ruins was unsurprisingly influenced by various ruins I have visited throughout Europe. Coming from New Zealand where such structures don’t exist, they had a profound impact on me. Again, black metal felt inappropriate, so a more folkish approach was taken. The black metal releases are invariably influenced by nature and an absence of human life, whether it be in New Zealand, Serbia or elsewhere.
I always feel that Bròn is a very personal project, because it just feels very well-conceived and every release is very cohesive and ‘whole’. Is that how you envision it and how do you feel about the term side project, because I don’t feel that any of this is done with a lesser form of commitment and passion?
All my projects are personal in their own right, they just express different aspects of myself. I have no problem with the term ‘side project’ as Barshasketh is more of an expression of my entire being and my perception of this sphere, whereas the other bands are intended to express one specific thing. Perhaps the fact that I share Barshasketh with people who are very meaningful to me makes it a more personal too.
How does Belliciste fit into this whole world as well? As that does seem to stick more northernly, in language at least.
As for Belliciste, this band also has no relation to place. It is an outlet for pure animalistic, reckless hatred with no bonds to anywhere in this world.
The lyrics deal with the filthiest side of my spirit. Absolute misanthropy, apocalypse and the eradication of all life in this world. There are numerous references to deities from various mythologies, but these are not limited to those from the North. There are also many references to the Maori pantheon, most specifically Whiro, but I believe these all to be some sort of archetypes of the Devil, just through a different linguistic lens.
Do you feel that your current projects and themes are for now it, or are you constantly finding new inspiration as you travel and explore and will new entities see the light of day?
I think I’ve reached something as absurd as 14 individual projects now, so there is a lot of new material on the horizon. Some are black metal, others are not. Some are solo projects, some are with other people I’ve met over the years.
These projects all stem from internal exploration and even just musical exploration, rather than anything geographic.
Ok, so I’d like to ask you if there are any ties you still have to the black metal scene in New Zeeland and if there’s anything happening that you’d like people to be aware of.
I never really had very strong ties to the NZ black metal scene, even while I lived there. I only knew and associated with a small handful of individuals, but I am still in contact with most of them and I’m even working on material with some of them. As for things happening within the NZ scene that people should be aware of, I guess most would already be familiar to those into black metal. Bands of note include Vassafor, Heresiarch, Vesicant, Ulcerate, Diocletian, Creeping.
Lesser known bands include Winter Deluge, Exaltation, Vicissitude. I’m surely forgetting a few more…
So what future plans do you currently have with your projects? What’s coming up next?
A lot at the moment. I’m currently working on two Brón releases. One will likely be part of the White City series and the other is back to the black metal style, but this time features a real drummer. It’s being done in a proper studio setting, so things are moving slower than usual.
Other than that, a few Barshasketh and Belliciste releases are in the works which should see the light of day soon. Dunkelheit and Svartgren albums have been finished and shouldn’t be too long either. The other projects are still being worked on, so news about those will follow.
We have some exciting performances lined up for Barshasketh and Belliciste is also becoming more active in the live arena again.
The primal movements of the earth can be felt when Bismuth plays its second set at the Ladybird Skatepark at Roadburn 2019. Slow, purposeful drone doom, delivered with a mantra-like repetition over a fundamental groundwork of drums by Joe Rawlings. The guitars produce a growling, textured sound that hits you like sonic waves with full force.
On guitar is Tanya Byrne, who also plays in Monoliths, Nadir and Dark Mother. Having been pummelled by the live delivery by the band, I wanted to know more about the duo from Nottingham and contacted Tanya to ask her some questions about Bismuth, sound, studying the environment, gear and, of course, playing Roadburn.
Interview with Tanya Byrne from Bismuth
I understand you are originally classically schooled, if I may use that term. How did you move from that to the music you create now?
That’s right. I play the piano, played clarinet in an orchestra and studied music theory and composition. I think I moved to drone when I discovered minimalism. Artists such as Arvo Pärt and Terry Riley. Space is an important feature of that, and I wanted to see if that could be explored within the sphere of heavy music. So much metal tries to bludgeon with riffs, but I feel contrast, space and dynamics are needed for something to remain heavy. That’s why I loved Lingua Ignota so much. It has a weight to it, without the usual metal and noise tropes.It would seem that this background really shapes your approach to music than, which is not based on, let’s say, the pop format songs. So where in this development did feel you transitioned that classic approach into a metal framework?
It happened when I was around 25. Through minimalism, I started to discover bands like Khanate, Asva and Sunn O))). For the longest time, I found guitar-based heavy music boring, but these bands showed me that heavy music could be interesting.
I like your mention of Arvo Pärt, because his music is for me essentially attentive listening and very heavy in its intentional nature, as every note has meaning… What attracts you to the minimalism and more so the slowness in music (as you play ‘very slowly’)?
The focus of minimalism is what drew me to it. You have to give each note your full attention. Playing slowly helps with that. Nothing can be rushed and you have to exist in the sound. Everything else falls away as the sustaining of the music becomes everything.
What does heavy mean to you and what role does volume play in that, which is what most people would assume to represent heavy?
Heavy is more of an emotional response. Volume can be helpful in reaching that intensity, but for me, the intensity in performance is so much more important. I’ve seen bands that are quiet in volume, but their music has a connection that makes it truly heavy.
I’ve seen you perform, but I wonder how you feel you put the heavy in the performance you deliver with Bismuth. Is it physical or in your own experience of the meaning and voice of the music?
A lot of my lived experience comes out in the music. Obviously, both Joe and I are fans of volume to add to this, so that comes out too. When we play, nothing else exists. I see nothing and just share what is normally hidden.
Is the meditative aspect of that sound on some level relevant to what you do? And by that, I mean the ritualistic or even religious aspect of music, but also may be a connection to your academic field?
Very much so, yes. Becoming lost in the sound is a form of meditation. It not so much religious for me, but I definitely think that playing so slowly helps me feel connected to the deep time of the geological record, in a small way. People need time and space to contemplate processes that take millions of years, and I think the state of feeling nothing but sound and time can tether me to that. Day to day worries fall away, and for a time, notes seem like infinity.
I am intrigued by the connection though, between your academic interest and music. Which came first and when did you first connect them like they are on ‘The slow dying of the great Barrier Reef’?
I’ve been playing music since I was five, but I only started studying environmental science within the last 6 years. Barrier reef was the first time I attempted to connect the two. The music and themes arose due to my increasing frustration with the world government’s inaction on climate change. I read journals pretty much every day showing the way in which humans are degrading our environment, and I can’t believe the inaction of governments around the world.
There’s a lot of disinformation going around, or fake news as we call it today. Was that attitude, the inaction, was it a driver for you to connect these two?
Or was it something brooding already to make this connection and just got this push here.
Both. As a scientist, it’s very frustrating to hear talk about ‘beliefs’ when there is solid evidence that climate change is happening, and that our species is causing it.
For you as a person, what does it mean to bring these two together? Is this a platform?
I’m not sure if it’s a platform so much as me trying to process the thoughts I have around this subject. It’s great if others are prompted to research, but joining music with this subject matter helps me deal with the anger and despair that I feel at times. It’s difficult to maintain hope when all you read about is destruction and death, but we must hold on to hope and work together.
For me, as a listener, your performance felt very cathartic too, as the music is delivered with a certain laborious effort. It helped to connect, to move in harmony with you as artists. Is that something you feel is important, this connection through the music?
The connection is one of the most important aspects. When you are playing with others, it’s important to get into the same space. I’m not very outgoing in real life, and the way I connect the most is through playing music.
How big is the role of your equipment when you play music like yours?
Very. Very important. I use multiple amplifiers set up so I can use each amp to cover a different frequency range.
Coming back to your approach of music not as simply bludgeoning with riffs, is this an example of your way of creating this heavy effect?
For sure. Cutting the bass amp and reintroducing it later can help add heaviness. I also run different effects chain for each amp. It’s important to have different amps for different tonalities.
So what is your process when creating music, because by what I read about your gear expertise it feels like an engineering job, so I was wondering if you could describe how that happens?
Generally, Joe or I will have an idea, a riff or a drum beat. We then work in that for a while and see if it’s something we can expand on. Vocals are always written secondary to this, as layers of sound are very important to us.
Is there a lot of tinkering with the equipment involved?
Yes…I tend to have a pretty precise idea of the sound in my brain. There have to be lots of playing around with pedals to match up the sound I am aiming for.
Do you consider yourself a bit of a gearhead?
Yes, in other aspects of my life I work as a programmer, so I get really interested in tech of all kinds.
Now, this is usually a pretty male-dominated terrain. Is that something that ever came across your path of an artist and do you notice the shift that’s happening and was very visible at Roadburn this year?
Yes, I have had a couple of amps and pedals custom made for me, and only I and the person that built it knows how to work them. This still hasn’t stopped some guys trying to tell me how to use my own equipment (they usually shut up after they see us play). Sometimes I feel like I need to be super nerdy about it so I can stand my ground in male-dominated spaces. It was very heartening to see that Roadburn is showing that creating experimental music is not just the domain of men.
So, can you tell me about your Roadburn experience and history?
Both Joe and I are so overwhelmed by our experience of Roadburn. Becky, Walter and the rest of the Roadburn crew are amazing. When they asked us to play a second set in the skate park. We couldn’t believe it. I watched the Lingua Ignota show there and it was amazing.
Bismuth started 8 years ago and we’ve recorded two albums and a few splits and EPs., but this was our first performance at Roadburn, yes. We’ve done a few tours in Europe and the UK. We have always wanted to play Roadburn and were so so excited to be asked.
But then to get a second set, what was that like?
Disbelief! When my friends told me about the queues for the first set, I really didn’t know what to think. It was a great honour for us.
Did the second one feel different?
Yes. I think we were both more at ease. I’m not sure why, perhaps it’s because it’s more similar to the usual places we play? I think its because its closer to the DIY spaces a lot of the bands are used to normally play. I definitely felt more comfortable there
Do you think Roadburn is a different place to play?
Definitely. I think many bands aspire to play there. The friendship and open-mindedness of the people that attend is something I’ve never experienced at any other festival. It’s really special.
What does the future hold now for Bismuth?
In the next couple of weeks, we are playing Northern Discomfort fest in Copenhagen, DIY fest in Nijmegen and Raw Power fest in London. We also have a show in Leeds with Thou and Moloch. That should be fun. After that, we are going to take a little live break to focus on writing for our third album and a few splits.
If your band was a dish, what would it be and why?
Hmmm well, it depends who you ask! Joe would definitely say kebab. However, I would say tasty lentil dahl, with rice and chipati. We would both agree on tasty Oreo brownie though.
Is that because you both like it or is there a more complex idea?
Haha nope, we both just think it’s tasty. I think it would match is as it appears sweet but can be intense.
Seena Arya is a musician from the unlikely location of Iran and specializes in otherworldly synth sounds. His various projects include Varkâna, SunAddictedFamily, Vanelikt, Driftwood, and BeamKeeper. All this is part of the Ardawahisht collective.
He has been kind enough to keep me up to date on his work, which has fascinated me from the start. It’s therefore important to share this and give you a little idea of what awaits you in the crypts. Or in the discotheque… or the forest? As it seems that Seena is working on all fronts to expand the reach of his musical vocabulary to express the harrowing silence and sadness of the world.
You gotta love that. Header image from Varkâna Facebook page.
Beam Keeper – Volume 1
Beam Keeper is pure synthwave, but clearly steeped in the slow trod of dungeon synth where it originates in. If you imagine a dungeon synth project based on ‘The Neverending Story’ or another eighties-vibe movie (I know it’s a book first, I read it), this would be it. Slow, sonorous synths weave through the air, the beats come dully, indicating a slow pace and the vibe is more Blade Runner than happy Goonies. It’s dreamy, captivating and perhaps a bit too strangely droning to completely take you elsewhere and isolate you from your surroundings. For me, it is a perfect record to listen to at any time when I need to close myself into this pristine world that Beam Keeper creates. The throbbing bass lines of ‘Palm Trees Dream’. Please, if you dig synthwave, check this record out. You will not regret it.
Varkâna – Ahrimanic Chambers
Ahriman is the entity embodied with destructive force in Zoroastrianism, and therefore a great topic for a dark, cavernous dungeon synth record, so that’s exactly how Varkâna follows up ‘Rite’ with ‘Ahrimanic Chambers’. The oppressing, grinding synths have a bit of that Burzum vibe, though that may be the dry tom sound that pops up. Slow drones, and that feeling of disturbing the dust in ancient crypts hardly touched by the sun. But these crypts are different, more ancient and unfamiliar to you and speak of an even older myth. Slowly, with a tinge of the oriental hidden in its notes, it sucks you further in, further down the dark tunnels with strange glyphs and carvings, unto the underworld. Varkâna provides a specific atmosphere, which is particularly captivating thanks to the vastness of the sound. It’s dark, without immediate threat, but always something is lurking, something older…
Sun Addicted Family – Solar Dreams
It would be easy to start referring to Deafheaven here, but sonically Sun Addicted Family is far removed from the driven, grandiose sound of the vilified post-black act, yet there’s obviously a thematic connection somehow. This project relies on heavy sonic tapestries and keys to provide a sort of story anchorage throughout. The screamed vocals are intense within the frame of this blackgaze experience. It’s strange to have these sonic flares, chip tuney beats and mash it with that intensity. But that, to me, is exactly what makes Sun Addicted Family so enthralling, it’s otherworldliness, it’s weirdness in a way, blending synth-wave sentiment with black metal intensity and atmospheric black metal emotion. I mean, reading that sentence alone, how would you say that in a way that explains what you’re about to listen to. You should, by the way, do so. Listen to it and immerse yourself in irradiate sunlight, soak in solar dreams and drown in the astral driftways. Blissful forgetting, white light, white heat.
Varkâna – Cosmic Terror
And here my own slow pace has caught up with me because Varkâna has released a new gem inspired by none other than the great H.P. Lovecraft himself. ‘Cosmic Terror’ is a much similar release, with the creeping, meandering synths taking the listener down aeon-old pathways, basking in the gloom of Eldritch things. Obviously, there’s a connection to the Ahrimanic Chambers record released before, both speak of unspeakable entities that dwell in the dark recesses of our minds. I do feel though, that this album clears up come of the eastern elements in the composition, but this may also just be my perception. More ritualistic even, it expands the realms of Dungeon Synth into more obscure territories, where a haze emerges as the sand and air hit. Nothing is certain, nothing is absolute when elder gods dance in madness in the maelstrom. From the malign and dreamy ‘Space Lord’, to the creeping madness that is ‘Nyarlathotep’. It’s full of foreboding of threat and terror.
So much darkness in the underground of our welfare state called the Netherlands, that I just have to keep going and share it. This time, the furious harpies of Asagraum, the gloom and doom of Dodenbezweerder, the aerial soundscapes of Nortfalke and the icy hailstorm that is Asgrauw.
Please, enjoy, listen and perhaps purchase some of these tunes.
Asagraum – Dawn of Infinite Fire
Edged Circle Productions
It doesn’t take long to stumble upon the combination of the name Asagraum and ‘all-female black metal’. It is an oddity in black metal for sure, but I can’t say it makes a difference in the sound. Perhaps in the pitch of the vitriolic screams of Obscura, also active in Draugur, Wolvenbloed, Gestalte, and Hekel (both live). She also played in Nargaroth live, which is cool. She runs the ship with A. who used to beat the drums in Sisters of Suffocation. Originally, it was a cross-continental band with T. Kolsvart on drums, and a number of international musicians involved, but now the core is Dutch. Jeez, what an intro, did I mention that they play some sick black metal in the traditional way we love and relish?
Asagraum can sound harsh and unrelenting, as they do on most of their songs. There is, however, a melodic streak in their sound. The excellent production (no necro stuff here) helps to let that musical side open up when you listen to it. Particularly the track ‘Guahaihoque’ does a great job at dragging you in with its sweeping flourishes. It’s really good stuff to take your mind off things, but we return to fire and brimstone with songs like ‘Dochters van de Zwarte Vlam’. An energetic rhythm, ominous, and just that right speed-up moment when we surge into a new vocal bit. Personal favorite though is the final track that also features clean vocals. ‘Waar Ik Ben Komt De Dood’ (where I am, comes death) is a mid-paced burner, moving along a mist of distortion. The chanted words emerge from that same fog, difficult to hear at first in the haze, but on the other hand clear within the production. This is a great black metal record, full of fire and fury. You might want to check it out.
Dodenbezweerder – Vrees De Toorn Van De Wezens Verscholen Achter Majestueuze Vleugels
Iron Bonehead Productions
I am in no way surprised to find the name Mories connected to this project. The brain behind Gnaw Their Tongues, Aderlating, CloakofAltering, CapuutMortem, and a hundred other bands never sits still. Santino van der Aa plays drums, which he also does in dsbm legends Hypothermia. Dodenbezweerder was launched in 2019 and the full length is listed as released in 2020. You just know it’s going to be good, but somehow this has remained under the radar up to this point for me. Might be because the releases followed each other at a rapid pace. The artwork already shows an artistic inclination to the classic black and white, so I expect a sound like that.
Which is an expectation soon to be fulfilled with atmospheric, lo-fi, distorted darkness. The title track is all hissing, crackling, and has that good old necro sound to it, but Dodenbezweerder never goes into screeching overdrive, but calls up a fog of distortion, that clouds a massive sound of slow, lumbering movement. The tracks are full of anticipation, foreboding of a lurking presence. From the fog, the vocals arise in gurgling, gibbering tones, as a ghoulish reminder that there is something coming at you. Shimmering comes to mind when you listen to ‘Glimmende Zwaarden Door De Mist Van Het Evangelie’, minimal yet, maximal impact. Spartan is a word the band uses in their bio and that makes sense as a duo, yet the wall of sound Dodenbezweerder unleashes is not to be trifled with. You want to hear this.
Nortfalke – Atmosfeer
Heidens Hart Records
Is it dungeon synth? Not entirely, but there is something of that vibe in the Krautrock leaning sound of Nortfalke, which reminds you a bit of Jean-Michel Jarre and TangerineDream with its spun-out, soaring electronics. Nortfalke is an alias of Swerc, who is known from bands like Tarnkappe, Gheestenland, Asregen and a dozen other fascinating projects. This one, however, explores the cryptic mysteries of dungeon synth with a classic approach that never fails. It’s the sort of sound that immerses you in mystery and dreams, particularly this thematic album, titled ‘Atmosfeer’ (Atmosphere).
Repetition is one of the key tools for dungeon synth acts. It has a meditative and hypnotic effect on the listener as it all sort of starts to melt together into one flow. We don’t descend into crypts though, but ascend to the clouds and explore the beauty of the heights on ‘Hoogten’. I particularly enjoy the krautrock vibe on ‘IJskristallen’, which translates as ‘ice crystals’. The looped keys resonate like he pristine, crackling of ice that would surround you in the upper atmosphere (that’s pure speculation, but the shimmering sound matches my imagination). And this is the true strength of Nortfalke, it catches the atmospheric elements it describes. The sensations, the perspectives, they’re all there within the sound. And then we fall into the depth on ‘Diepte’. It’s notable that the sound is more organic, natural, thanks to the use of actual synthesizers. The result is quite remarkable.
Asgrauw – IJsval
Death Kult Records/Pest Productions
I’ve commented before on the peculiar artwork of Asgrauw, but I have to admit that it does kind of grow on you. ‘IJsval’ is the fourth full length by the band from Groesbeek (the bad end of Nijmegen I’ve been told). Keeping a steady pace of dropping a record every 2 years, the band is on a roll. Members of Asgrauw are also active in Meslamtea. And that’s great stuff and only offers more promises for their latest release, that seems fitting in these times.
Asgrauw relies heavily on the tremolo guitar sounds, the trickling, cold melodic elements and double vocals. Not entirely uncommon, but in their synth-heavy sound more than welcome to offer depth and complexity to the sound. ‘Leegte’ instantly delivers, creating a lot of space to breathe and just wallow in the sound with melodic breaks. But there’s also violence and cascading, icy riffs that flow with a thundering roar. ‘Stortvloed’ is one of those tracks, that just keeps going. What I like so much about this record, is that the title just permeates every single track. ‘Ijsval’ translates as ‘ice fall’, and that cold hits you every tune again. Sure, a little warmth seeps in with that Iron Maiden-esque bass line in ‘Broeihaard’, but it’s back into the cold again a moment later. Asgrauw is like a bike ride through icy rain in late autumn. Dutch people know what I’m talking about.