Extreme Underground Metal

Label: Spread Evil Productions
Origin: Western Finland

Black metal’s most infamous double-crewed vessel, Hordanes Land, was launched from the southwestern coast of Norway in 1993. It encompassed a handful of songs previously cast on EPs from two relatively unknown groups: Enslaved and Emperor. Less than six months after this exploratory voyage, both bands unleashed debut full-length behemoths that would define decades of black metal to come, and became instant commanders of the genre around the world. Twenty-seven years later and 1000 kilometers to the northeast, Dawning ov the God sets sail, a split venture from Goats of Doom and Sarastus that churns up the same malice and misanthropy exhibited on Hordanes Land, updated for the next generation of Satanists.

Goats of Doom and Sarastus share many similarities upon first glance: both bands hail from Finland (and are less than two hours apart, Nivala to Oulu), have released several full-lengths, and even share vocalists in certain live arenas. The beauty of a split album, however, often lies in that transition zone between the first tracks (in this case, three from Goats of Doom) and the second half of the record (enter Sarastus). With bands of a seemingly similar disposition, like these, these few seconds can illuminate key differences between acts. Where Goats of Doom embodies a fast-tempo, blast-beat-ridden, minor-chord-driven aural assault from hell, Sarastus slows the pace down at times, markedly plays with percussion styles within single tracks, and maintains a higher quality of production value, particularly in the guitar tone.

The most striking discrepancy between bands is in the vocal style and mix: Scaregod, the lead blasphemer, from Goats of Doom unchains raw, asphyxiatingly brutal lyrics that command every track, whereas Sarastus’s preacher, Revenant, releases more refined, traditional black metal growls that backdrop beautifully intertwined guitars and drums. Fans may prefer one style to the other, but, regardless of preference, both are executed with stunning precision and timeless passion.

Goats of Doom blast through the harbor with album opener “Kuljen Pimeydessä,” Finnish for “I Walk in the Darkness.” Torrid minor chords and blistering blasts punctuate initial moments of confusion, before draconian shrieks methodically suck blood from the eardrums. The bloodletting is relentless: the listener is ripped from the clutches of a fiery womb. Finally, slowed guitar licks and dissonant percussion pave a blackened avenue for Scaregod to infuse oozing, low-pitched growls into the boiling tar before it hardens onto the Devil’s driveway. Vocal juxtaposition highlights the middle passages of “Vihan Liekki (The Flame of Wrath).” While still composed of the suffocating sulfuric vapor of Scaregod’s typical style, offsetting shrieks consist of harmonic low-pitched distortion that fiendishly fan the flames of the smoldering riffage.

Standing out among the three Goats of Doom tracks is third song “Kuolleiden Profeetta (The Prophet of the Dead).” With a thundering snare dominating the initial air space, lightning-fast tremelo minor chords scale the stairway to attack the pearly gates before stifling shrieks bash in heaven’s door. Ominous guitar licks set the stage for duel-growled declarations of death: one from Scaregod’s inhuman larynx and the other from the abysmal titular prophet himself. This track is Finnish Black Metal at its absolutely most bleak: brutal, depressive, and e-viscerally satisfying.

Stepping up to the helm for tracks four through six, Sarastus kicks their half off with a funky drum beat opener to “Where Restless Souls Wander.” The percussive pattern continues into seeping mid-tempo riffage exuding haunting overtones, before lead arsonist Revenant spews noxious fumes that linger across the audible graveyard like a thick fog clinging to cover. The drums remain taut and tempered in stark contrast to the wild bleating of the previous tracks from Goats of Doom. Further, Revenant’s vocals are layered into the mix equally with the other instruments, a departure from Scaregod’s shriek-forward approach.

“In the Shadow of the Lord” motors forward next, with searing licks and consistent blasting elevating desperate roars before fading to black. Sludgy, drum-less chords transition this standout track into a new passage, radiating references from Darkthrone and Satyricon‘s heavy black ‘n’ roll days. Frequent pace changes pound the remainder of the track, each executed with the staid expertise of a seasoned blacksmith sharpening a blade. Fast, blast-beat ridden sections discharge the same brutality as Goats of Doom, but with the refined taxidermy of a modern Dark Funeral record. Mid-tempo, riff-forward passages force head-banging submission less escapable than gravity itself. Final track, “Ghosts of Forlorn Woodlands,” takes this crushing power and stirs in evil elixir. Opening power chords flex diabolical strength while bewitching, unorthodox blast-beating hexes the captive listener. Minor licks and impassioned snarls wormhole this majestic track back to 1993, riding the timeless, blackened waves of Scandinavia.

Dawning ov the God
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxYECRd7XCk

Emerging with the raw, aggressive fury of charred black metallers Goats of Doom and closing with Sarastus’s hypnotic ode to mystical nostalgia, Dawning ov the God has something for every budding misanthropist. This EP is an encouraging microcosm of a thriving environment: an unrefined hatred for humanity, instrumental weapons of Satanic destruction, and anti-cosmic melodies of blackened death. Black metal is alive, well, and inciting chaos in Finland.

FFO: Darkthrone, Beherit, Dark Funeral, Gorgoroth

Label: Anthrazit Records
Origin: Iran

To say that heavy metal is not mainstream in Iran is a colossal understatement. The country has a relatively recent history of arresting and prosecuting those who partake in “Satanic” ceremonies, including sentencing members of Converge, a groove-metal band in the vein of Pantera and Lamb of God, to 14 years in prison and 74 lashes (each). They have since escaped Iran, and currently reside in Norway, where heavy metal, indeed black metal, is thankfully welcomed and legal. Sina Winter of From the Vastland similarly has migrated to Norway from Iran; Helzgloriam, on the other hand, skirt persecution from the underbelly of their homeland.

Helzgloriam embody the rich history of Iran with sections of mesmerizing melismatic female vocals, traditional Arabian melodies, and acoustic guitar passages riding an exquisite magic-carpet of tremelo and picado. Decapitated Mystics of the Serpent delivers the rites with fiery vocals from the pulpit, sinuous black metal riffs, and passionate drums – distilling traditional Persian spirit from an expertly crafted symphonic elixir.

Opening track, “Sohor,” commences with ceremonial drums as a backdrop for delicate bird-like acoustic tremelo notes. Ominous symphonic melodies set the tone for an altar studded with chalices brimming with the elegance of stringed instruments and flanked by a choir of unholy disciples. The acoustics return to initiate standout track, “Gorgan Wall.” Bone-chilling undulating female vocals permeate the initial atmosphere, before crushing electric leads set the ungodly sanctuary ablaze. As the background orchestral music slithers into the main body of the work, drums are kept taut, like a boa tightening its grip around the dazed worshipper. Choked, Emperor-inspired vocals spew out incantations for Satan, whose presence manifests in the majestic displays of melodic blackness that shroud this track. The cursed female presence returns, and palm-muted riffs dance in ritualistic harmony with picado acoustics before the page is turned for the next evil spell.

Gorgan Wall (2:24 - 7:06)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlCJ_hX02C4

Each of the conjurations of Decapitated Mystics of the Serpent contain scribblings of classic heavy metal despite being bound by the theme of symphonic black metal. The first few moments of “Humanoid” contemplate Metallica‘s magnum opus, “Fade to Black,” before skipping forward several chapters to lead licks ala Dissection‘s “Black Dragon.” Every track is dynamic and unexpected: vocal ink stains the same parchment as symphonic musical scripture.

Helzgloriam‘s grandiose tendencies are most apparent in the drumming. Passages of intense extreme metal paranoia are interspersed with lucid, refined moments of thoughtful, diagnostic percussion. These moments juxtapose nicely against the intense presence of melodic stringed instruments that carry each track – a live show would necessitate the Czech National Symphonic Orchestra, ala Dimmu Borgir. The strings provide the broth; the classical piano seasons the introductory movements of “Invisible Tower of Death” before flutes flash in the pan of “Tēsifōn” and the song dissolves into a boiling cauldron of chaos.

At their most potent, Helzgloriam administers a deadly serum dripping with misanthropic intent. In moments of respite, intricately-layered symphonies of strings and chorals hearken back to the esoteric mysticism of ancient Persia. Decapitated Mystics of the Serpent contains plenty of both. Incendiary sermons to a mesmerized congregation enhanced by orchestral vigor ensure a viscerally satisfying underground Satanic ritual.

FFO: Emperor, Dimmu Borgir, Old Man’s Child, From the Vastland

Label: Askio Productions
Origin: Greece

Rather than reinventing the extreme metal wheel, Carnal Misanthropy have instead adorned the rims with rusted iron spikes and painted the spokes sanguine red and obsidian black. Release the Wolf is a blood-soaked demo with Harley horsepower. It maintains the ferocity of the wolf emblazoned on the cover with chainlink growls and mind-bending distortion, while tremelo-picking a murderously fast path to death and glory.

Kicking the violent, relatively short (22:51′) demo off, standout track “Fury of Battle” thrusts the listener to the heart of war with the soundtrack of a nearby medieval gore-fest. In the confused midst of battle, a lone guitar rips open unholy organs with punishing distortion, putrid power chords oozing out of the festering wound. Minor notes of mysticism reign from the skies above, and a sole, cursed growl unearths itself from the loam to meet the warriors in the open. As the track finds its pulse, Carnal Misanthropy demonstrates their supreme command of the entire production. Each blast-beat and guitar-laden hook pierces every penetrating shriek with precision and finesse. The cadence of the vocals ruminates on Immortal‘s style, whilst the vocals’ content incants a throatiness not uncommon in Watain‘s book of spells, both statements being extreme compliments. The furious battle spirals to a close with the prancing riffs of the victorious and the tortured screams of the vanquished.

Fury of Battle (0:00 - 6:44)
https://askio-productions.bandcamp.com/album/carnal-misanthropy-release-the-wolf

The entirety of Release the Wolf is heavily pilled with intensely fuzzy guitar tones. There is no better example of this than on the second track, “Release the Wolf.” Opening with a deeply forested soundscape, a lone wolf howls in hunger, before being quickly joined by the pack. With a sense of dread injected into the listener, an exhumed power chord resonates across the forest, accompanied by unseen air raid sirens warning of impending extermination. The aforementioned tones are expanded upon in the third track, “Absolute Nihilism.” Melodic, blackened minor scales slither through the cracks of the aging woodland, with overdriven tremelo-picking crackling down from above like lightning. Densely corrugated power chords return, thundering through palm-mutes with depraved deliberation.

These passages channel Mayhem‘s genre-defining EP, Deathcrush, namely “Necrolust,” the fifth track off this seminal record. No band has yet eclipsed the sun-stroke of genius flared from the bowels of Deathcrush. Carnal Misanthropy prays alongside these influencing titans, and bows to the same icon on the altar of black metal. Final track, “Nocturnal Visions of the Ancient Monument” reads like an Inquisition track but sounds like an early 90’s Scandinavian masterpiece. Drill-sergeant shrieks in the face of tempered minor chords terrify, and pummeling drums deliver the apocalyptic message with precision and fire. Before drawing to a close, Release the Wolf sucks “humanity’s last breath,” curb-stomping all other acts of pedestrian heavy metal.

The mysterious Greek recluses of Carnal Misanthropy manifest themselves in this masterfully produced black metal demo. Nodding to the many previous purveyors of extreme metal, Carnal Misanthropy have conjured up Release the Wolf as a bleak commentary on humanity and convention, warning of the inevitable demise of any and all who dare cross the wolf.

FFO: Watain, Immortal, Mayhem, Urgehal

Label: Cold Sword Productions
Origin: Saint Petersburg, Russia

The Flame of Truth is an resplendent musical buffet of resolute extreme metal riffs, stuffed with tasteful nods to the early second wave. While wicked guitar-work composes the base of Alter of Woe‘s devious dishes, demonic vocals and eerie soundscapes peppered throughout the brief record elevate the evil flavors of this masterpiece, and keep the listener returning for seconds.

Clocking in at a mere 23 minutes, and spanning six tracks, The Flame of Truth offers only a sample of the potential of Alter of Woe, commanded by jack-of-all-trades “Elias.” Indeed, the chemical complexity of this record conjures images of a room full of Satanic warriors, each brandishing his own diabolical apparatus, whereas in fact, this is a one-man band. Also evident in this body of work is the historical knowledge and influence that is baked into every offering: Elias is a studied man of the black metal past. He has mined the precious elements of now-lauded works of the 90’s and smelted them into a refined work of art, carefully discarding unnecessary toxic waste.

Opening track, “Князев Курган” is a fantastic example of the no-frills tendencies of Alter of Woe. Maintaining a moderate pace, refreshingly sans overwhelming blast-beating, the chunky, meandering supporting riffs contrast superiorly with Elias’s bare-bones vocals. Searing leads connect sections with ease, threading a hypodermic needle through symphonic arteries and strung-out growls alike: this is how black metal should always make you feel. Title track, “The Flame of Truth,” advances the refined approach into a more chaotic realm, and Elias untethers some of the basest vocal belts on the record. Introductory drums and acoustic guitars climb aboard, making this another instantly classic black metal track. Tempered pacing gives geological space for the deposit of unrestrained layers of vocal grit. At the cusp of becoming too chaotic, the track transitions into a stripped-back sonic space of unearthly cries, and concludes with the comfort of expertly tightened minor chords.

In terms of influences, Altar of Woe extends its skeletal hand far and wide. The first ten seconds of “Inhaling the Crypt” follow a deadly thunderstorm with a crushing power chord. This instantly reminds the listener of heavy metal’s unholy dawn, Black Sabbath‘s half-century old self-titled debut track. The track dissolves into a frenzied aural assault of blackened precipitate, metaphorically representing the decades of evolution since that prototypical power chord launched the entire genre. The Black Sabbath genome returns with tolling church bells and crackling thunder near the close of the track, and soaring vehicles of death put the pedal to the metal and speed the blindsided listener to the crypt.

Perhaps the most ambitious track on The Flame of Truth is penultimate chaos-inducer “Unholy Reincarnation.” With a feedback-fueled introduction, galloping riffs and thunderous bass break through to rip eardrums apart before Elias’s shrieks can even reach them. Amidst a carnal headbanger’s feast, a steely power chord slices through the track, revealing Emperor-like chants (ala “An Elegy of Icaros”) that echo down the corridors of heavy metal history.

Стрелой мракобесия (3:34 - 7:07)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJHthZC5bPs

Standout track, “Стрелой мракобесия,” begins with an eerie synthesized soundscape, evoking themes of mystical dungeons and vampiric bloodthirst. A single drum crack kicks the track into gear, and the synth returns to subtly drape the scorching riffs. The drums and guitars are then curtly ripped away, and austere, Watain-like vocals (nodding to Erik Danielsson) tear apart the dungeon-themed cage like the beast it contains. An abominably brutal riff forces the next passage of the track forward, accompanied by the demonic laughter that pervades Darkthrone or Satyricon. Unwavering, infernally satisfying growls finish the track off, instantly begging the replay button to provide another hit of raw evil.

Altar of Woe serves up an ungodly feast with The Flame of Truth, sure to please every black metal deity it attempts to serve. As the lone member of the band, Elias concocts a brilliant, restrained, yet dynamic banquet of flame-broiled riffs and blast-chilled vocals. Await with empty bellies an invitation to the next Satanic binge.

FFO: Watain, Darkthrone, Emperor, Marduk

Label: Pest Productions
Origin: Singapore

Welkin, the one-man band helmed by 16 year old (!) master Hasthur, is a castle built with every nut and bolt from the toolbox of Scandanavian Black Metal bands of old, yet polished with purified acid and tightened by the icy hand of Satan Himself. Recollections of Conquest and Honour pumps up the militia of Welkin‘s self-titled demo with a salivating medieval army chomping at the bit.

Just as an intrepid knight enters a battle arena with sword drawn, first track “The Thalassic Path to the New World” and closing track “Farewell” open fire with the mightiest black metal weapon: the sweltering guitar. Emblazoned strings battle through the first few minutes alone, until collected and composed drums materialize to provide cover. Guitar tones are bleak and riddled with flames, and melodic foreboding chords resonate for twice as long as those of contemporary acts, completely saturating the air with poisonous intent. These sections are slow and deliberate: indeed, throughout the album, Hasthur retains control of his formidable arsenal with the studied expertise of a veteran performer. Perhaps even more impressive is the general attention to song composition: where many artists would employ the drum machine as a bludgeon to blast-beat the living hell out of each track, Welkin commands the blasts sparingly, using them only to enhance the shining guitars and vocals. Upon cresting the hill of the battlefield, a galloping collection of riffs carries the knight into the foray of warfare to combine forces with Hasthur’s anguished and spine-chilling shrieks.

This Gorgoroth-inspired spume is spread with unsettling continuity, dominating the background music and petrifying the listener at knife point until it subsides. Track four, “Upon the Starlit Highlands,” is coated in this delectable filth. The noble steed of divine commitment is represented by epic chord progressions and head-banging drum beats, delivering Hasthur and his murderous growls to the slaughter. Near the end of the track, a lone guitar riff nearly obscures a faint chorus of background pleas, beckoning listeners to lean in for hope of hearing them, before they are ambushed in a coup de grâce of aural assault.

While much of Recollections of Conquest and Honour follows the roadmap of classic black metal, there are a surprising number of twists and turns that deviate from the weathered extreme metal path. These joy-rides away from convention are highlighted on track five, “War.Victory.Honour.” Behind the unwavering front of powerful riffs and tortured vocals, a soundtrack of sharpening swords and rustling chains lurks, waiting for musical respite before the steel is unsheathed. Guitar progressions then subtly shift anachronistically to a haunted rendition of the 007 theme, before the background battle resumes and Hasthur’s cries carry this track to ultimate victory.

Conquest (7:47 - 16:29)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vxQptPtkxPI

Standout track, “Conquest,” embodies the full confidence and sanctity of the knight depicted on the album cover. This work, an engraving titled Knight, Death and the Devil (German: Ritter, Tod und Teufel), was created by Albrecht Dürer just as the Middle Ages came to a close, in 1513. In this image, the titular knight defiantly rides his horse through the onlooking spectres of a goat-like demon and Death Himself. It has been interpreted by many, and used across history in countless political movements: it is undoubtedly one of Dürer’s most influential works. In this track, the progressions of chords feel almost upbeat, and the melodic dueling guitars mimic the knight’s god-given quest. Hasthur’s vocals carry the hero to glory just as the Valkyries accompany slain warriors to Valhalla. Piercing solos fly higher still, emitting late-era Dissection energy and spirit, before crashing to a halt, and allowing the remainder of the heroic track to fade away.

Welkin has blended medieval spirit with ravishing extreme metal majesty, to create a uniquely grim debut full-length album. Recollections of Conquest and Honour is a crenelated homage to Scandanavian Black Metal that embraces demonic divinity and meticulous production quality, and rejects complacent creation. At only 16 years of age, Hasthur has raised his flag along with those of the legends from which Welkin draws inspiration, and leaves the ravenous listener hungry for more.

FFO: Gorgoroth, Behexen, Baptism, Dissection

Of interest: “Hastur” is known as “The Feaster from Afar: A black, shriveled, flying monstrosity with tentacles tipped with razor-sharp talons that can pierce a victim’s skull and siphon out the brain,” according to Wikipedia.

Label: Terratur Possessions
Origin: Trondheim, Norway

The alleys of black metal are overflowing with pedestrian attempts to mimic second-wave black metal legends. Countless groups have essentially booted up their musical computing systems, downloaded lo-fi productions and Satanic poetry, programmed blastbeats and distant shrieks, and hit the red button. Thankfully, Enevelde has developed a superior software of blasphemy: resonant growls drive dynamic riffs and deft transitions to keep the Enevelde microchip gigabytes ahead of the clunky floppy disk.

Hailing from Trondheim, a hotbed of black metal, Enevelde is the work of B. Kråbøl, who is also the vocalist of the aptly-named Misotheist. Enevelde springs from a different seed than the innumerate crops of Satanic symphonies reaped in the early 1990’s, despite being sown in the same field. The majority of this work is slow, with musical trace elements sourced from a variety of sub-genre hosts. Classic minor scales picked at tremelo-speeds are interspersed throughout, yet hooks rife with folk metal melodies and soundscapes conjuring funeral doom hydrate every track. Standout track, “Forringelse (Deterioration)” yields sinister guitar-work and punishing snare along with the voice of the unholy. Soaring leads in the background pay homage to the reprehensible origins of extreme metal, while churning power chords rip apart eardrums as the listener involuntarily cranks the volume. The song crashes to a halt as infernal growls ignite deliciously hellish guitars, absent of any drums to vanquish the flames. Enevelde absolutely glows in these slower sections; later in the track, another breakdown of pace allows a thunderous bass-line to lash out in vengeance at the down-tuned riffage, before this track comes to an anguished conclusion.

Forringelse (8:44 - 18:59)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTWz7Et3j3o

The most dominant forces in Enevelde are Kråbøl’s demonic, cavernous snarls, tuned a hair lower than those of Behemoth‘s renowned orator, Nergal, and often as thick as coagulated blood emerging from a fatal wound. Evil and drawn out, in many cases supported by reverb, these relatively static growls also contrast the constantly oscillating instrumental pace and structure. Opening track, “Kroppens Mani (The Mania of the Body)” showcases this sensation well: intentionally choppy guitar-work with unhurried percussions lull the listener before the wound is ripped wide open, as Kråbøl’s steady narrative perseveres.

Other areas of Enevelde construct similar confusion, yet work with different tools. Third track, “Irrgangen (Labyrinth)” opens with a slowly progressing loop of distorted chords, sonically singular and lacking drums. The spell of the mesmerizing guitar-work is then broken by breakneck blast-beating, signaling a regression into classic black metal territory, but the listener is fooled again. The slow loop of eerie chords that launches the track into existence waver neither in presence nor pace, and the unique disparity between these chords and the drums is jarring and bold. Later in the track, a penultimate garrotting chord snuffs out the prior madness, stranding the listener in a pensive ocean of melancholic melody. This dichotomy occurs across the entire record, many times within the same song. Closing track, “Daukjøttet (Dead Meat)?” serenades with angelic chorals before flattening the choir with a non-stop freight train from Helvete. The pagan melodies gather their wings and, together with a reliable armory of drums, launch on a Bathory-themed, blood-soaked flight to Valhalla.

For a band to stand out, especially a black metal band from Norway, they need to conquer one of two challenges. Either they must worship their influences and endlessly practice musical perfection to achieve the classic black metal sound, or they must deviate from these traditional roots to cultivate a different sound, fertilized by other genres. Enevelde nails both of these challenges with their self-titled debut effort, and rises above the surrounding flora scrounging for innovative resources and decaying in the dirt of inadequate imitation, to firmly entrench themselves within the vast forests of Norway.

FFO: Behemoth, Bathory, Wolves in the Throne Room, Shape of Despair