Kazea – I. Ancestral Review

By Iceberg

Kazea hail from Sweden, home of the Björiff and the chainsaw song of the HM2. But on their debut album, I. Ancestral, the Gothenburg trio promise to blend “the power of post-rock, the haunting melodies of neo-folk, and the crushing weight of sludge.” If the mere mention of sludge hasn’t sent you screaming from the room, good, because you’re in for a treat today. I dealt with posty sludge from labelmates Besra in my n00b days, but throwing neo-folk into the mix puts an unusual spin on the situation. While both styles revel in their simplicity of content, the open soundscapes of folk could provide much-needed contrast against sludge’s distorted chugging. Or it could devolve into a mishmash of styles that don’t share any common language. Whatever the musical case, there’s no denying the gorgeous poetry of Frederico Garcia Lorca in opener “With A Knife:” “Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea. The horse on the mountain.” Color me intrigued.

Kazea choose to separate and highlight, rather than amalgamate, their stylistic influences, a gamble that pays off more often than not. Dusky acoustic guitars reminiscent of Gustavo Santaolalla or A Romance With Violence-era Wayfarer lead the folk-inspired sections, evoking untamed, pagan wilderness (“With A Knife,” “A Strange Burial”). The sludge, which forms the backbone of Kazea’s sound, is more Melvins than Mastodon, and a lot of American Scrap-era Huntsmen, with fuzzy guitars and stomping drum patterns (“Whispering Hand,” “Wailing Blood”). Jonas Mattsson’s vocals may be a bit controversial here, with their Billy Corgan-esque nasal quality, but the more I listened to I. Ancestral the more Mattsson’s performance stuck with me. I hear shades of Layne Staley in his scrawling delivery, and while I wasn’t always able to discern the lyrics, his dynamic croon forms the beating heart of the album’s post-metal tunes (“Trenches,” “Seamlessly Woven”).

For a band handing in their debut record, Kazea slither and wind their way around 37 minutes with the hallmarks of seasoned songwriters. An air of storytelling pervades the album, with memorable spoken word fragments (“A Little Knife,” “A Strange Burial”) and ambient soundscapes (“The North Passage,” “Seamlessly Woven”) delivering post-metal’s cinematics within a sludge framework. Post-metal swells and crashes à la This Will Destroy You and Isis are found on “Trenches” and “Seamlessly Woven,” and while these are unsurprisingly the longest tracks on the record they handle their duration well, with the latter providing one of the strongest, heart-wrenching choruses I’ve heard all year long. Even “Whispering Hand,” which is something akin to pop sludge, is a radio-ready anthem full of earworms that evokes the better moments of Them Crooked Vultures.

I. Ancestral is a promising opening for Kazea’s proposed musical series, and its flaws are few and far between. Daniel Olsson’s drums are powerful, and the groove laid down in “The North Passage” marches in mammoth lockstep with Rasmus Lindbolm’s bass, but the minimalist tribal kick/toms/snare pattern begins to feel a bit overused the longer one listens to the record. “Pale City Skin” and “Wailing Blood” both start strongly but spin their riff wheels a touch too long, giving in to the tendency of both sludge and post-metal to utilize repetition for content. And while a master by Cult of Luna’s Magnus Lindberg is roomy and darkly colorful, the vocal mix does get buried in the busier sections of the album, which is a shame because these constitute some of the best music I. Ancestral has to offer (“Trenches,” “Seamlessly Woven”). But the overall impression of Kazea’s debut beats its blemishes, presenting a stark and unique voice formed from disparate influences.

“…with a knife. With a little knife that just fits into the palm.” The chilling denouement of “With A Knife” has stuck with me as I’ve ruminated over I. Ancestral. It neatly encapsulates the album, weaving shadowy, wooded energy into an unlikely combination of post-metal and sludge. The album is smartly edited and easy to pore over multiple times, with repeat listens revealing some standout moments: “Whispering Hand” is a shamelessly fun sludge anthem, and “Seamlessly Woven” is the most emotionally packed closer I’ve heard since The Drowning’s “Blood Marks My Grave.” I think Kazea have knocked it out of the park with this debut, and are on the verge of coalescing their sound into something truly remarkable. Don’t sleep on these guys.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 21st, 2025

#2025 #35 #GustavoSantaolalla #Hunstmen #IAncestral #Isis #Kazea #Mar25 #Melvins #NeoFolk #PostMetal #Review #Reviews #Sludge #SuicideRecords #SwedishMetal #ThemCrookedVultures #ThisWillDestroyYou #Wayfarer

Wÿntër Ärvń – Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute Review

By Twelve

Wÿntër Ärvn is a really cool project. It takes its inspiration from black metal of the ’90s and channels it into an almost fully acoustic and almost fully instrumental framework, building on many familiar feelings from that space—bitterness, inner struggles, anger, the usual stuff—in a pleasant, rather than jarring way. The French one-man project writes on acoustic guitars and builds on it such instruments as the cello, shakuhachi, and, yes, clarinet—but no electric guitars in sight. It’s a powerful concept and worked very well on Abysses, to the delight of the venerable Emya. Following up is always tricky, but a new album is here to continue the journey; how does Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute stand up?

I should admit straightaway that I didn’t love Abysses. On paper, it’s right up my alley—gorgeous dark and neo folk music with a beating heart from black metal- but I found that its lack of immediacy meant it didn’t work so well for me as it did for Emya (and a lot of you). Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute—Under the Black Storm – The Star and the Fall—challenged my preconceived biases fast with “Un Voile sur l’Azur,” a calming, peaceful tune that utilizes bagpipes and whistles from Geoffroy Dell’Aria (Les Bâtards du Nord, Épaves) to stunning effect. Similarly, “Remembrances” is a gorgeous song in a similar vein, with compelling acoustic guitar and a beautiful hurdy-gurdy lead that has placed it among my most-listened-to songs over the past few weeks. It is evocative—mesmerizing, even—with an appropriately strong sense of melancholy and nostalgia that hangs over Sous l’Orage Noir in the best possible way.

As alluded to above, there is a strong diversity of instruments across Sous l’Orage Noir, thanks in part to a variety of guest musicians. Raphaël Verguin (In Cauda Venenum, Psygnosis) provides cello for “Ad Vesperam,” Vittorio Sabelli (Dawn of a Dark Age) performs clarinet for “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” and “L’Astre et la Chute,” and there’s even a harp from Laurène Telennaria (Orkhys). Similarly, not all tracks are instrumental, with singing and a few growls (Judith De Lotharingie of Ofdrykkja and Wÿntër Ärvń himself, respectively) making rare appearances throughout. Many of these elements were present in Abysses, of course, but I love the way the songwriting, production, and album direction support them. The way Sabelli’s clarinet emerges as if from the titular fog in “Vingt Ans de Brouillard” is so memorable, as is the way “Appelé à l’Abîme” builds and builds before Telennaria’s singing descends as if from a great distance. Wÿntër Ärvń demonstrates excellent songwriting on Sous l’Orage Noir, like the best of October Falls, while taking influence from across the French metal scene.

There are only two things I don’t love about Sous l’Orage Noir (a great thing to be able to say for a dark folk album). The first is that I’m not convinced the growls work with the music. While I understand the relation to black metal, I think Wÿntër Ärvń’s is too removed from the original style—his hoarse, rough growling is a stark contrast to a song as lovely as “Ad Vesperam,” and breaks my immersion a bit. It’s not even a bad choice—the backdrop of chants and percussion supports it really well, but the song itself is almost peaceful up to that point. The second is that I don’t think the back half of the album does enough to distinguish itself from the first four or five tracks, making Sous l’Orage Noir feel a bit front-loaded. I don’t love the melody in “L’Astre et la Chute, for example;” it feels passive, while “Sous L’Orage Noir” leans a bit too much on repetition. Neither are bad songs, but they don’t do much to keep up the momentum from the openers.

On the other hand, these are the same qualities that make it so easy to load Wÿntër Ärvń, close your eyes, and get carried away by the music. There is a phenomenal sense of flow to Sous l’Orage Noir – L’Astre et la Chute that complements its style so well. Whether you’re a fan of metal or folk, there’s something to love here. In my mind, Sous l’Orage Noir is a step up from Abysses, and has made me a real fan of Wÿntër Ärvń— I can’t wait to see where the music flows from here.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Antiq Records
Website: facebook.com/wynterarvnneofolk
Releases Worldwide: March 7th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AntiqRecords #DawnOfADarkAge #Épaves #FrenchMetal #InCaudaVenenum #LesBâtardsDuNord #Mar25 #Neofolk #OctoberFalls #Ofdrykkja #Orkhys #Psygnosis #Review #Reviews #SousLOrageNoirLAstreEtLaChute #WÿntërÄrvń