As I was listening to A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia, I started to wonder why I never listened to Green Carnation before… this album is amazing. I don’t want to be premature (I mean, the year is almost over, yeah, no shit) but this might be AOTY material. I can feel confident in saying that; now anyway. That may change over the course of the rest of the year. But for now… this is the shit.

Keeping in mind that I listened to this record on continuous repeat, the songs washed over me like a rain storm lashing a verdant forest into a frenzy. Opening with the power of Black fucking Sabbath is “As Silence Took You” the lyrics carry significant emotion, and at the mid-track point, this fat assed riff just comes stomping in like it owns the place, with the rising keys behind it all… Jesus fucking Christ, this is how you open an album.

But that’s not it, that’s only seven minutes and eleven seconds of this 42:43-minute-long epic. There’s the huge Amorphis vibe throughout “In Your Paradise” and it’s just a jaw-dropping Nordic rock anthem; big and beautiful like a massive troll swinging trees at random shit.

So much great production went into A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia. Recorded at DUB Studios in Norway, this is epic in every sense of the word. “Me My Enemy” starts off deceptively mellow, sort of Opeth-ish, but then the chorus kicks in and it’s hitting you right in the feels. This is awesome. Pure bloody awesomeness.

“The Slave That You Are” is by far my favorite track on this crazy beast. It features Grutle Kjellson (Enslaved) on guest vocals, and it rips headlong into the blasting right away. Slowing down briefly before it erupts again into a flurry of blasts.

“The Shores of Melancholia” is another epic, ships on the horizon of a churning sea type of song. Soaring, triumphant; reaching the blackest heavens and beyond. It’s followed by the closing track “Too Close to the Flame” has this troll-sized chorus that makes me think of Einherjer and Enslaved, I fucking swear, Season of Mist is a label on fire lately, pumping out some killer releases this year.

It ends, and then you hit play again or just have it on repeat like this guy. A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia is a wonderful album experience. I highly recommend this for you lovers of Enslaved, Einherjer, and early Ulver (think Bergtatt and Nattens madrigal – Aatte hymne til ulven I manden era). A magical album of Norwegian power. So what are you waiting for? Go get it!

I’m not kidding. This is a somber, instrumental powerhouse; this haunting as fuck album echoes through corridors of time and dust.

Taking cues from Wardruna, Heilung, and (to my ears) Ulver, they weave their way through these thirteen tracks beginning with “Niwe Mōna” a tone setter, the drums pounding out a steady heartbeat for its short minute and some change run.

Setting the mood in epic fashion is where Sowulo shines. The songs don’t overstay their welcome; they keep things interesting throughout, showcasing different instruments: Carnyx, Nyckelharpa, Celtic Harp, Shaman drums, Blow horns, Irish Bouzouki, Taglharpa, Lyre, Viola… and some killer throat singing to boot.

This is their fifth album, meaning that I have four to go back and listen to… I’d better get started; I need to finish this review first, though (starts scribbling furiously).

“Seolfren Sicol” is track number two, and it’s here that I start hearing some Ulver sneak into the mix. The unsettling background melodies bring images of pitch-black nights lit with ceremonial fires to keep the darkness at bay. This continues through “Āsteorfan” the current single from the album; it’s a dark, brooding track that brings the Wardruna vibes right front and center.

“Sōl ond Māni” has more of a Heilung feeling that is awe-inspiring. Sowulo don’t skimp on the gravitas. “Full Mōna” reminds me of Enigma (their 1990 album in particular), and this feeling continues through “Miċele Steorran” and resounds with “Mōnaþblōd”, easily my favorite song on Niht, its beat is infectious and had me dancing around like an idiot.

The atmosphere of Niht is another reason why I’m enamored with it. It draws you in further with tracks like “Nihtēagan” another Ulver vibe track circa Themes from William Blake’s The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, “Carnyx” a song written specifically for the instrument, apparently, “Eald Mōna” and “Swefnian” bring more of the Ulver feels circa Kveldssanger; which is still my favorite album from them.

“Heolstor Sċeadu” has this martial pacing that really brings the house down. It’s a powerful track that sets up the finale that is “Genihtian”. The torches have been extinguished, and the smoke is still hanging over the ritual area, and Sowulo has delivered a fifth album to be absolutely proud of.

At the end of the night, this is some of the most epic Pagan Folk Metal that I have heard in a bit. If you like Wardruna, Ulver and Heilung then you need to hear Sowulo, it comes highly recommended!

In these hallowed pages I’ve covered two other instrumental albums, those being Satyricon and their Satyricon and Munch album and Zombi‘s Direct Inject.

Shadow Knell lives somewhere in the neighborhood of Wongraven or Isengard, a bit of Mortiis to add the creepy bombastic elements.

“Intone” is where the album begins, its unsettling keys resonating through the length as it builds up the tension of the 10:14 minute track “Procession” a huge track that makes me also think of Danzig and his Black Aria album from ’92 (apparently a follow up was done in 2006, who knew?) Anyway, this album is broken up into individual tracks, but honestly, it’s better experienced as a whole piece of music.

Each track flows into the next like a seamless stream of blackness. “The Briar Harp” is a single and it’s got this eerie, haunted forest thing going on while “Bell Umbra” has an entering a long-dead kingdom after a long, drawn out war, the set pieces are like individual story pieces woven into a larger tapestry of drama.

I love the way tension plays into the mix of the music, giving an otherworldly feeling and “Arcane Discovery” has that tension burning in its core, while the final track and second single “Night River” is a 7:14 minute transcendent track, capturing a desolate emotional response.

Apparently Shadow Knell features members from Poison Ruin, so if you like them already then there you go. This is almost ritualistic and if allowed to, could end up taking you to distant parts of your mind. I recommend this for the fans of the aforementioned bands, oh and Tangerine Dream on acid. Really good stuff.

Back in the mid 00s I was enamored with a band called The Pax Cecilia, who released 2 self-released and free releases with 2004s Ep, Nouveau and 2007s Blessed Are the Bonds, (which I covered back in the day at one of my other review sites Metalreview.com/ Yourlastrites.com here).  They played a form of largely ambient ambitious, orchestral post rock, metalcore that came across like Shai Hulud meets Neurosis with a full orchestra.

Since then, bands like So Hideous have played and popularized a similar style, but man were The Pax Cecilia special back in 2007.

But then nothing for years, until the Teethofthedivine email gets an email from  Kent Fairman Wilson looking for me and explaining his new project and release, Ode and Elegy. Originally meant as a new The Pax Cecilia release and utilizing former The Pax Cecilia members, as we as over 40 other musicians (including string quartets, brass ensembles, choirs, harpists, flutists etc.) the project evolved into something different and thus, sister act  Ode and Elegy was born.

Comprised of one, 55-minute piece, Ode and Elegy is one of those releases that just barely squeezes into the realms of metal, less so than The Pax Cecilia, but if we cover the likes of Prophecy Production’s or Equilibrium Music’s Avant-Garde neo folk and such, we surely can cover this. It’s largely instrumental, and largely classical music, with simply gorgeous, and I mean utterly knee wilting, wondrous orchestration with a few spurts of post-rock, metal, gruff screams/shouts and guitars here and there.

The ebb and flow of the material is one that follows the album’s themes of catharsis and loss and fits perfectly with emotive peaks and valleys that actually brought a tear to my eye at several points. The performances of the Sofia and Laurels session quartets and orchestras respectively, are truly amazing. Of course, the writing of Wilson and co is what drives those performances and the nuances and structures of one, 55-minute song is hard to put into words.

The affair starts slowly and surely (but even early on, the orchestration hits you right in the feels), with a delicate pianissimo and ends with a poignant metallic crescendo before fading out with a perfect classical decrescendo. But in between, there is plenty going on. While there may be only about 2o minutes of actual ‘metal’ mixed in with the purely classical music, it is delivered at perfect intervals. It’s not until 13 minutes in that we first hear actual ‘metal’-based, crusty riffs and pained screams backing the violins and cellos, that could be from any Halo of Flies or Alerta Antifascista Records record (i.e Lightbearer, Exulansis). 20 minutes in we get another more restrained post-rock sway and lurch, then a more atonal crumble about 6 minutes later. 32 minutes in you get the most expansive ‘metal’ segment that lasts a good 5 minutes and again comes across like those bands I just mentioned.

The two final pieces of metal come towards to end of the release, and when mixed with the orchestral cacophony, add fitting bouts of sheer, cathartic brilliance to close the album before the final 5 minutes shudders with climactic, dramatic prose and almost John Murphy ( 28 Days later, Sunshine) movie score-like poignant closure.

On top of being arguably one of the most enthralling and absorbing pieces of pure music I’ve recently heard ( and a must-listen on good headphones), this is completely free, both as a download or a physical CD that comes in a gorgeous hardbound booklet case . Again, for free….So go and grab this and support this ambitious and unique project, as well as truly independent music.

Deus Salvatis Meæ (“God of My Salvation”) is from the ‘ugly’ half of Blut Aus Nord’s oeuvre. (Actually, if you’re keeping score it’s probably Vindsval’s dominant expression by now.) You’ll find none of the alien, astral beauty of the Memoria Vetusta series here or the sepulchral, inverted grace of the 777 trilogy. This is more in line with the boiler-room industrial aesthetic of The Work Which Transforms God, MORT, or last year’s Codex Obscura Nomina split with Ævangelist, though it drops that last album’s beats in favor of sludgy, doomy crawls and frenzied blastbeat mayhem.

That’s not to say it’s a more of a doom or black metal album, though. Melodies, when they do emerge, are simple and repeating, and each song’s structure sounds like it’s about to collapse into decay. It’s best to just absorb the whole experience as one continuous, plague-infected fever dream, though there are moments that stand out. “Apostasis” sounds like backwards-masked Slayer played at half-speed, while “Revelatio” lurches back and forth between several distinct and cogent (well, relatively speaking) segments. The rest of the album yowls, slithers, pulses, and screams by like some Lovecraftian incantation. Ambience warbles, melts, and re-knits its flesh, keening strings and Arabic chants rise out of the gloom, and the vocals are a corroded gargle. Sounds lovely, right? 

As a work of sonic necromancy, Deus Salvatis Meæ is impressive, creative, and thoroughly deranged. Your mileage may vary if you prefer your compositions less… unraveled, but if this is your sort of thing, then perhaps your mental state is more ready to accept its gifts.

England’s Blueneck continue the ‘tradition’ set by fellow country mates Anathema and Mick Moss’ Antimatter. The band’s newest album, Repetitions, doesn’t stray too far from 2009’s The Fallen Host; although I’d probably call this a tad more melancholic and minimalistic as the band’s post-rock roots are a bit more hidden. Instead of rambling on for 400 words, I’m going to cut the chase and spoil the ending right here, right now: If you’re into either of the two bands I mentioned in the first sentence, I recommend you’d pick this up. No questions asked. You won’t be disappointed.

Repetitions is 49 minutes of longing and melancholy, done with a calm, soothing accent that sometimes raises the volume and refers back to the band’s post-rock background with pounding percussion and rhythmic guitar work (see “Venger”, for example) but even then violence is only hinted at. Things often chill quickly on Repetitions. Blueneck’s pattern is clear, however. Song endings are reserved for an elevated awareness; a build up.

While the sound is rich in texture, the compositions rely on a minimalistic approach. The space is only filled with the necessary components, allowing the listener to drown into the strong atmosphere and purifying hardship. Duncan Attwood’s yearning voice provides a narrative whilst filling the void with a human element. In turn, Blueneck also realize that often music is enough to carry the experience, be it through guitars or the use of violin, with the piano playing just as important a role. Most of the songs actually feel more like instrumentals. “The Last Refuge” sees perhaps Attwood’s biggest role on Repetitions, with a song based around his voice. It’s also the loudest moment of the album. Throughout the album the combination of the soulful piano and Attwood’s voice brought a few flashbacks of Trent Reznor’s pain during Nine Inch Nail’s more fragile moments. That being said, even when the approach is much more modern, I’d also say that those who appreciate Steve von Till’s solo efforts will find something of worth here as well.

There are glimpses of hope and joy amidst the bleak moments. The album’s dynamics are in balance and the songs have plenty of variety, so moods and emotions change, holding the listener still and serene throughout. Repetitions ends with “Lopussa” (surprisingly meaning “at/in the end” in Finnish); a track that seems to say a personal ‘fuck it’ after all the hardships. Unlike rest of the tracks, there is no huge bang at the end, but instead the track ends it all on a more menacing note — a fade out that says something to akin how we haven’t seen the last of it. It’s really easy to actually feel Repetitions. It stays with the listener after it’s all said and done.

Thus, with great marvel I repeat myself again. If you by any chance enjoyed the more calmer, fragile moments of, say, Anathema’s A Natural Disaster or Antimatter’s Planetary Confinement, you’re implored to check out Blueneck’s Repetitions. It might not be the same, but there’s a certain shared quality to the album’s essence. That alone should be enough. And with this release, Denovali continues to be one of the most relevant labels around for those in need of emotional proxies.