Black metal and the violin go together like peanut butter and jelly, which makes it particularly exciting when an artist who is accomplished in both steps forward. Weft is the solo endeavor of Charlie Anderson, the live violinist for Panopticon. His debut album, The Splintered Oar, is one of two releases by Bindrune Recordings on the weekend before the beginning of Listurnalia 2025.1 Nevertheless, this is a record that should not go unnoticed during the time of year when many of us have adopted either a backward- or forward-looking mindset.

Weft integrates the violin in a variety of clever ways that will sound comfortably familiar to fans of folk/black metal. The obvious comparison is Panopticon, particularly in the sublime acoustic guitar and violin pairing of the intro track “Leaves.” It also dances with the electric guitar in a wild, rugged manner like unto Windfaerer and Saor (“The Hull”). At the same time, Weft doesn’t allow the violin to become too overwhelming or dominant. Rather than solely relying on the customary trem-picking, the fierce guitar riffs and chord progressions of The Splintered Oar often prefer to wander into progressive death metal territory. Another surprising musical influence is Americana, featured briefly in “The Hull” and prominently in “Dream of Oaks.”

The Splintered Oar by Weft

Once things get going, the bulk of The Splintered Oar is quite exhilarating. “False Kingdoms,” the first full song, opens with a great buildup, facilitated by Austin Lunn’s purposeful tom rhythms. After this point, the intensity ebbs and flows, but rarely lets up completely. The demonic violin lines and frenzied shrieks in “Red Dawn” cut through the listener’s defenses like wind chill. Anderson’s deep growls are usually effective as well, though they sometimes lack force and come across as more of a croak. Andrea Morgan’s guest vocals in “The Hull” help compensate for this, joining with the soothing strings in a manner reminiscent of Dzö-nga, which is a very good thing.

What holds The Splintered Oar back the most is a shaky beginning and ending. “Leaves” would have been a much more effective intro if it hadn’t repeated itself and dragged out its runtime to 5 minutes. On the other hand, 12-minute closer “Dream of Oaks” struggles to remain coherent. The entire first half is dreamy Americana, which later morphs into sleek Opethian prog and then death/doom before finally resuming Weft’s signature violin-driven black metal. These individual components are enjoyable enough on their own, but they become confusing when considered together. “Dream of Oaks” might have been an epic conclusion if it had the same degree of cohesion between The Splintered Oar’s disparate musical influences that the preceding tracks display.

Weft is a rare example of what is possible when a violinist creates black metal. Charlie Anderson’s compositional versatility is immediately obvious. While it doesn’t quite stick the landing—or the launch—The Splintered Oar’s midsection is very promising and even goosebump-inducing at times. If the less conventional musical genres can be consistently integrated in a potential sophomore record, Weft will be a force of nature to behold.

Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: weftmusic.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/weft_music
Releases Worldwide: December 19th, 2025

Panopticon – Laurentian Blue Review

By Mystikus Hugebeard

With the mammoth1 Panopticon ranking and the electrifying Månegarm review behind us, we can now look towards the album that the ranking was made in anticipation of: Laurentian Blue. What we weren’t quite expecting was that Laurentian Blue would be an unusual album to follow the ranking. After ten albums of post-black metal, this is the first standalone Panopticon work of purely dark, folksy Americana.2 It goes without saying that Americana has ever been a key component to the Panopticon soundscape, so do not mistake “unusual” for “unwelcome.” After all, Laurentian Blue is unquestionably a Panopticon album, for it embodies the same soul of Panopticon’s music that Thus Spoke eloquently illuminated in her introduction to the ranking: “an immense sense of drama, emotional intensity, and an unpretentious, honest heart.”

Not only is Laurentian Blue a dark folk/americana album, it is unapologetic about it. Laurentian Blue is confidently written and deliberate in its minimalism. The instrumentation is kept strictly to the bare necessities: Lunn picks and strums away at his guitar as he sings with the warmth of a crackling fire, with sparse, harmonizing violins as accompaniment. The consecutive exceptions come in the twang of “An Argument with God” (which is also the only song with any percussion) and the bluegrass “Irony and Causality,” which serve as welcome jolts to the pacing, but the bulk of Laurentian Blue is the sort of somber Americana in “Ever North” and “This Mortal Coil’s Rusted.” It reminds one of the Appalachia iteration of Osi and the Jupiter, with a stronger country lilt heard most clearly in “Down Along the Border.” While the guitarwork in Laurentian Blue is enjoyable, whether it takes the form of wistful melodies (“The Poetry in Roadkill”) or steely strumming (“Ever North,”) the focus cannot help but rest on Lunn’s voice and lyrical work.

As always, Lunn is a commanding songwriter fluent in the emotions he wants a song to convey. Nary a note or a word wasted, cutting straight to the heart of what he wants to express. Laurentian Blue is resolute in its deeply depressive lyricism, which becomes inescapable due to the music’s minimalist nature.3 Lines like “And if I needed you to watch me slip away // I’ll find you on the other side some day” (“Down Along the Border”) and “the lie that I forced myself to believe // that I never wasted a breath…” (“Ever North”) carry a catharsis that engulfs you, further strengthened by the preternaturally well-timed violins. Sparse though they may be, they’re beautifully implemented, often swelling at just the right moment like in the chorus of “The Poetry of Roadkill.” With focus this unhindered, lyrics that fail to connect are a greater danger to a song’s impact. The Hemingway-esque bluntness of “And morality ain’t dogmatic // but instead practical // and an individual // type of thing” is compelling, but it lacks the poetry present in the rest of the album, and the accompanying music doesn’t sustain the six-minute runtime.

Through the poetic lyrical work and musical minimalism, Laurentian Blue is emotionally consistent, yet therein lies what also makes it a more challenging album. Lunn’s voice is kept adamantly deadpan throughout, indifferently asking you to engage with Laurentian Blue according to its own terms rather than manipulating your emotions. This can create a disconnect; as the violins swell and the notes ascend when Lunn sings the first “Look for me // ever north,” (“Ever North”), I selfishly feel unfulfilled when the notes dispassionately descend in the second. Other times, his singing style makes for some compelling friction. “Irony and Causality” is easily the most energetic song, and is a fascinating backdrop for the deadpan delivery of “Nothing matters when you die // you can only hope time flies // and someone will visit your grave.” Maintaining such a somber tone across the album is a deliberate choice, one that works through Lunn’s songwriting finesse. But it’s a sadness that’s more aptly felt when you’re already predisposed to such feelings.

Laurentian Blue will not be for everyone. It’s a singular emotional work that doesn’t guide your feelings, but rather presents its own emotions with understated grace and indifference. But it’s only natural that the appeal of a work this personal will ultimately come down to personal preference. Regardless of one’s taste for Americana and dark folk, Laurentian Blue is nevertheless a well-written collection of songs by a well-proven songwriter with a strong connection and understanding of the genre. You might need to be in the right mood for Laurentian Blue, but if that mood should find you, then Laurentian Blue will be a knowing, empathetic embrace.

Rating: Very Good
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: facebook | bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: August 15th, 2025

#2025 #35 #AmericanMetal #Americana #Aug25 #BindruneRecordings #Country #DarkFolk #LaurentianBlue #Panopticon #Review #Reviews

Numinous – Returning Review

By Twelve

Cascadian black metal is not a term you hear too often (unless you’re some kind of Cascadian black metal fan who regularly searches the term), but that’s what I was offered when I started looking into Returning. After I was done being enamored by the lovely cover art over there, I had to remind myself what it meant—and when I did, I was more than happy to dive in blind. The sophomore full-length from Numinous, Returning aims at a wild sound, boasting “emotional melodies, introspective ritual elements, and deeply thoughtful lyrics.”1 That checks all of the boxes for me—how does this particular branch of atmospheric black metal hold up to its inspiration and its contemporaries?

The natural imagery and theme to Returning is its most notable quality, and is expressed in several different ways throughout. Black metal this may well be, but it takes several minutes for the metal bit to get started and it makes up less of the album whole than you’d think. Still, I don’t mind a slow build, nor am I opposed to heightened thematic relevance. I don’t mind nature noises, acoustic guitars, plucked passages, tremolo riffs, all of which Numinous happily provide. The ambient passages are reminiscent of Wolves in the Throne Room, while the metal bits remind me, curiously, of October Falls—rough around the edges, but lively and spirited, with the tremolo leads in particular carrying melody and passion in a thematic, evocative way.

If only there were more of them! The lead guitar carries the emotional weight of Numinous, but gets little time to shine throughout, mostly on opener “Sacred Decay.” So much of Returning is dedicated to ambient passages or nature noises; so much of the metal songs use the same-sounding bludgeoning bass riff; and so much of the vocal approach is in a hoarse, not-a-growl, not-a-shout style that doesn’t land for me. When Numinous isn’t rocking an emotive, melodic lead, their music is often blending in with itself, losing memorability and impact. “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong ideas: an acoustic build to a thundering riff, an effectively creepy break around the one-third mark. These all represent great moments, but too often, they feel like they’re only moments—here one second, and gone the next, swept up by the next new idea that doesn’t make quite the same impact.

It doesn’t help that the full album is only three songs long, nor that “Offerings to the Great Circle” alone is twenty minutes out of forty-six. The three pieces are fairly distinct from one another, too—”Endless Dance” has no metal in it at all, but rather cycles through traditional drumming, nature samples, Forndom-style strings passages, and finally an acoustic build to the next song. All of this would be fine were the song not eleven minutes long, or maybe if it wasn’t following a thirteen-minute-long black metal song—or if didn’t “end” each time it introduces a new idea (it could easily be three distinct songs, with the acoustic end being far and away the best one). I mentioned earlier that “Offerings to the Great Circle” has some strong moments, but it similarly creaks under its weight, and could have been both shortened and split.2 All of this creates for me an image of an unrealized ambition, a vision Numinous has for Returning that I lost somewhere in the translation.

And it’s an honest shame, because I do think that somewhere or, perhaps, in several places—along the way, this band with a sound I like made some choices that I don’t care for, and now they and I are looking at two different things. The vision, passion, and technical skill are largely present, but as I listen to the four-minute-long ambient outro to “Offerings to the Great Circle” for what will be the final time, I can’t help but feel disappointed by the result.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Website: bindrunerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/numinous
Releases Worldwide: June 20th, 2025

#20 #2025 #AmericanMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #Forndom #Jun25 #Numinous #OctoberFalls #Returning #Review #Reviews #WolvesInTheThroneRoom

Stuck in the Filter – November/December’s Angry Misses

By Kenstrosity

It is time for the new year, and yet we spend its initial moments reflecting on works of the past. That’s because the works of the past are clogging up our damn Filter, and we need that to breathe in this hellhole we call a headquarters. We toil in the snow and the slush, freezing as the gunk clings to our definitely OSHA compliant protective suits and face masks. All so that you can maybe like but more likely dunk on the nuggets of treasure we find here.

Regardless of whether you enjoy what we find, we expect payment for our services. You can submit tithes via Venmo, Paypal, Bitcoin, hobo wine, unicorns, and/or goat sacrifices. Anything less will result in summary dismissal from the Hall!

Kenstrosity’s Heaving Husks

Void // Jadjow [December 8th, 2023 – Brucia Records]

Weird shit is my shit. Challenging albums that dare to subvert my expectations of the music held therein will always garner my respect. Enter UK avant-garde black metal outfit Void and their fourth LP Jadjow. A bizarrely short window spanned between this release and their previous record—only two years compared to eight years between albums one and two, ten between albums two and three. Despite the tight turnaround, the quality of the writing here is nothing to dismiss offhand. Opening duo “Fables From a Post-Truth Era” and “Interdaementional” showcase twisted songwriting dynamics, haunting vocals, squealing black metal riffs, woody blasts, and funky transitions. Consequently, they remind me of Ved Buens Ende, DHG, and Khôra. Yet, Void prove that the art of the riff is not lost in a sea of weirdness, throwing in headbangable themes and windmill-worthy whirlwinds left and right (“Only For You,” “Self Isolation,” “Swamp Dog”). Striking this balance between engaging hooks (“Fables From a Post-Truth Era,” “Swamp Dog”), danceable grooves (“Oduduwa’s Chain”), and intelligent songwriting dynamics (“When Lucifer Dies,” “Iniquitous Owl”) is tricky business, and yet Void take on the task with effortless grace and poise. In turn, fifty-six minutes of oddball progressive black metal fly by in a flash. You blink, you miss it. Don’t blink!

Irityll // Schlafes Bruder [November 23rd, 2023 – Self Release]

Do you ever wonder what melodic black metal would sound like if it had the same HM-2 tone as the filthiest Swedeath around? I sure never have. Yet, Vienna, Austria’s Irityll chose that exact combination to craft their debut LP, Schlafes Bruder. Comprising of two musicians with notable experience in the deathcore and brutal death metal worlds (Spire of Lazarus, Monument of Misanthropy), Irityll unexpectedly nail the icy black metal sound which defines Schlafes Bruder, but enhanced by the novel twist of an HM-2 buzzsaw tone. Ominous melodies and vicious blasting abound, as choice cuts like “Leichnam aus Überzeugung,” “Deppade Leit,” and “Sternengeiβel” all demonstrate with aplomb. Written in the same epic style of bands like Immortal or Dark Funeral, Schlafes Bruder succeeds primarily thanks to a tasty combination of minimalist drama and riff-focused intensity. The way it ebbs and flows between soft passages and ripping black metal, blistering speed and militant marches, all feels natural, effortless, and leads to satisfying payoffs across the forty-four-minute runtime (“Schlafes Bruder,” “Reiter des Sturmes,” “Epitaphion”). And yet, it feels like just the beginning for Irityll. With more refinement and tightening of the screws, the duo could take even greater advantage of their novel sound profile with more distinct, individualized songwriting. I’m excited by that prospect, and you should be too.

Dolphin Whisperer’s Unparalleled Uncoverings

Closet Witch // Chiaroscuro [November 3rd, 2023 – Zegema Beach Records]

If you’re familiar with Closet Witch already, or the closely related in sound and style Cloud Rat, then you’ll know that the brand of caustically-styled, emotionally-chiseled grind that they represent wastes no moment. Equally weighted by the slowing churns of powerviolence and piercing tones of screamo, Chiaroscuro, a name taken from the classical art technique of shadow-use/darkness contrast that creates wholeness, depth, and tone in a piece, uses each of its identities to drill eighteen minutes of caustic music to your memory. Unfortunately for newcomers or passerbys to the sonic assault that Closet Witch embodies, either the fuzz-rattled and blackened riffage, the clanging and splashing kit abuse, or the shrill and shrieking throat sacrifice build like a wall of bleeding noise. But in practice, Chiaroscuro contains an uncanny ebb and flow, finding footing in rhythmic refocusing (“My Words Are Sacred,” “Well-Fed Machine”), noise-assisted tip-offs (“You, Me, and the Venus in Decay,” “To the Cauldron”), and pedal-down thrusts (“Haunting,” “Arlington Cemetary”) to dog ear its shifts and landmarks. In this case, a horror-synth “Intro” and de-escalating, crinkled found-sound “Outro” are necessary to respectively set the stage and close the curtains. You don’t want to go into this cold, but Chiaroscuro burns so hot that you need a cooldown.

Exulansis // Overtures of Uprising [November 17th, 2023 – Bindrune Recordings]

You ever sit there and wonder when you’re finally gonna find a melodic black metal album that’s actually cool? No? How about one that at least incorporates vibrant violin melodies, guitar identities outside of tremolo progressions, and actual growling bass presence? Well, if so, look no further than Exulansis, a folk-inspired four-piece who finds just as much home in the creeping doom of the string work that you’d hear in an old SubRosa jam as they do in the forested black metal of Wolves in the Throne Room. But in this case, Overtures of Uprising’s four tracks will require only thirty-two minutes (it’s not enough!!) of your hard-to-earn time, a healthy balance of two standard-length numbers against two longer explorations. Whereas their previous album, 2019’s Sequestered Symphony attempted to meld a lot more gothic folk into their sound, Exulansis went and trimmed that into a whole separate album (Hymns of Collapse) this go, which has left absolutely nothing to stand in the way of the bell-hammering drive of “Of Nature & Hatred” or the eerie and screeching “A Movement in Silence”.1 And when they do slow it down for the fanciful, classical violin melodies that signal the triumphant title track or the lurching doom of “Dawning,” Exulansis finds a way to capture the beat of an anxious heart. Unified by a melodic dread, Overtures of Uprising pushes this act closer to record that’ll grab me by the hand and never let go. Fortunately, I know these strong voices have more to say.

Saunders’ Slippery Subjects

Deathcode Society // Unlightenment [November 24th, 2023 – Osmose Productions]

My end-of-year filter was badly clogged amidst the rush to finalize Listurnalia and absorb the mammoth number of releases that either flooded through late or had been backlogged. Nevertheless, in the end-of-year wash-up, I stumbled across the sophomore platter from French symphonic black metal act Deathcode Society, and their powerful, bombastic LP, Unlightenment. Traditionally, I am incredibly picky with my modern black metal, and much of the overly symphonic variety tends to fall flat or overdo the cheese. Comprised of seasoned players, Deathcode Society balances the elements deftly to craft an intriguing platter, with modern sheen and orchestral flair roughened up by second-wave influences and whiffs of later-era Emperor. The sympho-black formula can sometimes veer too drastically into melodramatic territory, adding too much fluff to soften the black metal bite. Thankfully, Deathcode Society generally nail things just right. Within the style, Deathcode Society exhibit a versatile and confident approach, as their epic, carefully layered sound ebbs and flows through diverse pastures. A technical edge permeates material that blisters and tears with speed and aggression, contrasting these pleasingly vicious assaults with mostly tasteful symphonic layers, a varied vocal palette, and long, twisty arrangements. Highlights include the potent, blasty one-two opening punch of “Scolopendra” and “Shards” dominate with sheer scope, ferocity and memorability, while the stellar “Mazed Interior” and “Scales” offer in-your-face aggression and more ambitious, head-spinning turns with maximum impact.

#2023 #AvantGarde #AvantGardeBlackMetal #BindruneRecordings #BlackMetal #BlackenedDeathMetal #BruciaRecords #Chiaroscuro #ClosetWitch #CloudRat #DarkFuneral #DeathMetal #DeathcodeSociety #Dec23 #DHG #Emperor #Exulansis #Grind #Immortal #Irityll #Jadjow #Khôra #MelodicBlackMetal #MonumentOfMisanthropy #Nov23 #OrchestralBlackMetal #OsmoseProductions #OverturesOfUprising #ProgressiveBlackMetal #SchlafesBruder #SelfRelease #SpireOfLazarus #StuckInTheFilter #Subrosa #SymphonicBlackMetal #SymphonicMetal #Unlightenment #VedBuensEnde #Vøid #WolvesInTheThroneRoom #ZegemaBeachRecords

Panopticon – The Rime of Memory Review

By El Cuervo

Though his work pre-dates the last decade, it was in the 2010s that Austin Lunn’s solo project entitled Panopticon became one of the best black metal bands currently operating. From the raw, political charge of Kentucky, through the rangy, transitory Roads to the North, to the delicacy and melodicism of Autumn Eternal,1 Panopticon fuses American heritage with Nordic musicality into an extremely compelling and atmospheric black metal package. The new decade brought …and Again into the Light which was a typically dynamic and emotively-driven affair and it’s now followed by The Rime of Memory. Can Lunn maintain his quality in quantity?

Lunn is ever the master of atmosphere. The brief introduction called “I Erindringens Høstlige Dysterhet” bleeds into the first (and longest) main track called “Winter’s Ghost,” building tension with nearly 10 minutes of moody neofolk. The slow, plodding feel and layers of acoustic guitars and cello set a doomy pace. Although the first heaviest passage on the record is a punishingly bleak and unmelodic streak of black metal, this transitions into proper doom metal territory. Rime of Memory’s despondent tone and doom instrumentation lend its music even more weight and gravitas. I may not particularly enjoy doom these days but where it’s used to set a tone and counter-point other sounds it works well. Rime of Memory is moody but not dull, poignant but not overwrought. It extracts you from your current circumstances and drags you into its desolate, frost-bitten world. There is little comforting here, at least until the closing two tracks which allow slivers of optimism to pierce the darkness.

The core concoction of atmospheric, folk-infused black metal comprises 4 daddy-sized tracks running between 12 and 20 minutes, the brief introduction and another 9-minute track for good measure. It’s a lot to consume and it feels like you experience Lunn’s raw, unfiltered, creative expression. He’s invested himself into maximum drama here. I’m familiar with his protracted style and glean great enjoyment from some of his other lengthy works. But Rime of Memory takes another step on that road towards 80 minutes, finishing just a few minutes shy of that mark. I admire the way that Lunn channels his singular artistic and emotional energy into his albums, but the counter-balance of another song-writing hand might help to refine the mass of music he inevitably releases. There are too few songs for the album’s length, resulting in what feels like a feast each time you hit play; what’s here is good but there’s a lot of it. This might work on a once-per-week or once-per-month basis, but trying to listen to the album regularly all the way through is a lot to stomach. It’s unnecessary that the shortest main track on this album is nearly 10 minutes long, and there are 4 longer tracks than this.

Moreover, the first two-thirds of Rime of Memory is less dynamic than other Panopticon albums; besides its opening 10 minutes, it features few extended quiet passages, few soothing interludes, and few pretty melodies. There are fewer moments I can point to that surpass other highlight moments from previous records. I like long songs as much as the next prog nerd but such length requires dynamism, namely tangible progression between heavy and light, between instrumentation, between tempo and melodies. Rime of Memory has just enough of this to sustain its weight but it’s close in places. Fortunately, the closing duo called “Enduring the Snow Drought” and “The Blue Against the White” revitalizes my energy and enthusiasm after a crushing run of music, turning through stronger melodies, bigger guitar solos and proper slow passages to frame the heavier stuff. The latter’s final passage feels appropriately dense and climactic, but also memorable and melodic, with hummable guitar melodies and a powerful string arrangement. The final 28 minutes of the record are a potent reminder of why I love this band.

All this results in an album that was tough to rate. If you already enjoy Panopticon you’ll undoubtedly enjoy Rime of Memory too. It’s powerfully atmospheric and emotively poignant, pulling you into its cold, harsh world. But its emotions are alienating, and its run-time difficult to digest. I’m generally reluctant to highly award an album that I struggle to complete in one sitting because this defeats the purpose of the album as a singular art form. But it also says a lot that Panopticon pulls me back for more listens despite this. My recommendation isn’t as easy as it was for …and Again into the Light, but it’s a strong recommendation nonetheless.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Bindrune Recordings
Websites: facebook.com/panopticon | panopticon.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: November 29th, 2023

Thus Spoke

So desperate to evade our inevitabilities…we will harness and destroy the very life force we thrive from to just have one more day of youth and ease…we will desecrate the sacred cathedrals of the wilderness, the havens of all life just so that we can have a simpler existence […] And then it comes. The well dries up. The forests burn. The smoke filled air choking our lungs […] It all served us nothing. There is no escape from death and grief and loss…So why did we do this? – A.Lunn

I won’t pretend to have any special personal connection to the Appalachian wilderness, because I don’t. I grew up in the South-East of England. Yet even to me, Panopticon’s music is so powerfully evocative, it almost feels like nostalgia. The forests and mountains, their history, their life, and their pain feel so real and so familiar. The albums are just as hard-hitting emotionally, progenitor Austin Lunn’s bleeding human heart palpable through the bewitching intermingling of bluegrass, folk, raw black, and atmospheric black metal. None have left me with dry eyes or a less than restless soul. Following up 2021’s …And Again Into the Light is a tall order, that previous record resonating particularly strongly—perhaps due to its release amidst the anxiety and isolation of lockdown fallout—and shooting to the top of my year-end list. But in characteristically understated fashion, dropping as the year draws to a close, The Rime of Memory is here to prove just how unmatched Panopticon is.

An allegory about time, aging, and the dying planet, The Rime of Memory draws from deep wells of passion and pain both intimate and universal. The dreamlike interplay of ferocious, frosted second-wave tirades, weeping strings, delicate plucks, and boundless, echoing atmospheres feels huge, and makes these emotions utterly undeniable. With a host of guest musicians providing said strings, piano, choir and harsh vocals, and poetry recitation (“An Autumn Storm”), both Lunn’s voice and his message is amplified and the sheer scale of this work totally envelops. In many ways, it’s the heaviest Panopticon has released in recent memory, a great deal devoted to the intense, archetypal surges of string-accented black metal and heart-wrenching screams, massive, clanging resonance (“Cedar Skeletons,” “An Autumn Storm”), and what is surely the most impassioned and impressive drumming of the project’s lifetime—especially on “Cedar Skeletons” and “Enduring the Snow Drought.” Quieter moments carry an analogous weight in stirring poignancy, wrought by liquid plucks and ethereal, fading tremolo, forlorn steel guitar plucking, and heaving sighs of string. Everything seems designed to enhance the drama, without ever overwhelming; cataclysmic climaxes fading into echo and stripped-back iterations of the theme. In mesmerized reverence you witness the pulsing post-metal grow layer upon layer, before exploding (“Winter’s Ghost,” and all the others).

‘Beautiful’ is almost too surface-level a word to describe The Rime of Memory, but it’ll do. Whether raging with near-dissonance (“An Autumn Storm”) or the dreaded major key (“Enduring the Snow Drought”), or being straightforwardly, gaze-ily gorgeous (“Winter’s Ghost,” “The Blue Against the White”), it is beautiful in an untamable, indescribable way. This is due to Panopticon’s proficiency for crafting exquisitely layered compositions, that weave the instrumentation together into inextricable ebbs and flows of urgent, plaintive, rage-filled sound. Such intricacies lead also to jaw-dropping, and tear-baiting catharses (“Winter’s Ghost,” “Cedar Skeletons,” “Enduring the Snow Drought”). Suffused with syrupy guitar, mournful refrains drifting upwards, morose spoken word or heaving screams, combining into a descending, explosive symphony led by the violins and cellos that carried the melody, chimes, choir, tumbling, accelerating percussion, emotion ringing into the atmosphere with melancholy strings. And the beginnings too—steel guitar, horn, cello and violin lament opening “Winter’s Ghost”

Even speaking of high points does little justice to the way the album flows and coheres as one. At a push, I would pull “Cedar Skeletons” out as not only the greatest on the record, but a strong contender for song of the year. There is nothing to remove, and nothing to add to The Rime of Memory, because with it, as with Panopticon’s other works, one must experience it as the cry of human solidarity, grief, and love that it is, as it is. Unbroken and unabridged. Many consider an album such as this that extends to 75 minutes simply ‘too long,’ and therefore deduct real or theoretical marks from their review or opinion of it. But being long is no inherent flaw. As it happens, 75 minutes is exactly the right duration for the drama and beauty of The Rime of Memory to play out.

I could wax lyrical even further but I imagine everyone is already very sick of me. The Rime of Memory epitomizes exactly why, and how far Panopticon exists in worlds beyond (post-)black metal peers. Another world to sink into, to muse on, to introspect, grieve, and hope to. The steel guitars and strings of “I Erindringens Høstlige Dysterhet” and “Winter’s Ghost” are starting again, and I’m already crying. Beyond words.

Rating: Excellent

#2023 #35 #45 #AtmosphericBlackMetal #BindruneRecordings #FolkMetal #Nov23 #Panopticon #Review #TheRimeOfMemory

#NowPlaying

Exulansis - Sequestered Sympathy 🇺🇸 (2019)

Excited to read that this Oregon outfit have signed to my favorite label #bindrunerecordings so checking this out. Lovely violin driven atmospheric black metal FFO Dead To A Dying World, Panopticon

https://exulansisoregon.bandcamp.com/album/sequestered-sympathy