Nocturne
by #Hexvessel
https://hexvessel.bandcamp.com/album/nocturne

#DoomMetal #AtmosphericBlackMetal #PsychedelicFolk #PaganBlackMetal

#TheMetalDogArticleList
#BraveWords
HEXVESSEL Sign With Prophecy Productions; Share New Track "Under The Lake"
Finnish black metal act

https://bravewords.com/news/hexvessel-sign-with-prophecy-productions-share-new-track-under-the-lake

#Hexvessel #ProphecyProductions #BlackDeath #FinnishBlackMetal

Hexvessel ink deal with Prophecy Productions; drop previously unreleased song "Under the Lake"

https://metalnerd.net/hexvessel-ink-deal-with-prophecy-productions-drop-previously-unreleased-song-under-the-lake/

#Hexvessel #metal #blackmetal #folkrock

I was not alone for Midsummer.

It had been a hard year for many. Some had lost those dear, and others still had lost part of themselves. The abrasion of existence scratching away at the best of us, compelling cruelty and distrust through uncertain times. A common burden, one often and needlessly borne alone.

Thoughts of the one who first brought me to the mountain haunted my mind, and in recent months another had passed. The kind landlady with whom I had lodged in prior years, and last summer delivered flowers to. Although I regret not finding time to attend her grave; I gain solace knowing fellow lodgers laid a stone heart upon it on behalf of all to commemorate the sense of family we once shared.

But this was a new family now. A gathering of separate ways, archetypes all their own. A Pilgrim of Death returning to the mountain; an Empathic soul who had performed at past gatherings; and a Priestess new to the Alm. Strangers to one another, each sworn to fire. My duty to braid together these disparate beings by way of friendship and camaraderie. Seeking communication and concordance, learning how each speak so all may hear. The centre around which madness must dance.

There would be no masks in our covenant. No biting of tongue for the sake of convenience. Any natural friction discussed openly, and resolved in kindness.

By this simple rule, strangers soon became friends.

As we fortified ourselves to ascend on the Solstice morning, a funeral procession solemnly passed through the town square. Different from the pomp of prior years’ Corpus Christi, a single soul was memorialised by what seemed the entire town. The clink of cup and cutlery grew silent as they filed into the church, and tears flowed in empathy.

Gaining comfort from our cohort’s closeness, we made our way upwards. To reconnect, refocus, and for most, return. As is the way of things, our group dispersed to meet others. Yet amid the joyful jubilation of reacquaintance, there was a fresh coldness in some we met. An insatiety of spirit staunched by quick-fix distraction.

It felt different this year. Some fellow veterans were noted by their absence, and others seemed too far lost. A mosaic of once-kind faces in abstract. Serpents on the mountain. Had the purpose of the gathering changed, or had I?

Such troubled thoughts sought solace by the stage. The music was violent, intense, and dramatic as it should be. With much Black Metal on the bill, there would be no half-measure at the apex of nature. At times the clouds spoke in response, a drenching certainty which took even this veteran by surprise.

Respite from righteous fury, Hexvessel were a needed counterpoint to chaos. Before their set, I burned incense with other old friends in the crowd. Sharing truth and Samhain herbs prepared by the Moon Temple and saved for this moment. It would be a night to speak to the spirits.

I returned to my empathic friend, to relax in good company even as others shuffled to-and-fro. A song was announced in tribute to those departed, and we wept for the one who introduced us all those years ago. The same who first brought me here. We held each other so tightly and dearly as anguish cried for comfort. A moment of sincerity in an often superficial world.

All turned to fire, and as the ritual began I daubed my eyes with ash. An embodiment of sorrows unspoken. With the hill thankfully dry underfoot, I swiftly scaled upwards to the pyre. Circling as I do once flame took hold, meeting with friends and wishing them well with gifts of love and liquor. Prior concerns of coldness melted away by the warmth of belonging.

I found my dear friend once more and we hugged joyfully in the fire’s glow, anointed in oils of rebirth. Smiling, laughing, we saluted the sky in libation as grief took flight to flame. The Sorceress, I feel, would be proud of the close, sincere friendship that has burgeoned in her wake.

The others made their own way to the fire, and it is not my place to speak of what they discovered. But as my heart raised and my burdens dispersed into the black, I considered what each of us brought to our crazy, dysfunctional family. For all the frustrations and misunderstandings found in our covenant resonated with my deeper concerns; and spoke of another tacit, yet ever-present, companion.

Death walks her path in parallel, and does not contrive to convenience. One cannot predict her swathe, nor can we escape her inevitable embrace. We can and should be angry and frustrated by all of this, to regret the words unspoken and love unrequited as in politeness we bide time ’til tomorrow. All we can do in the now is be reminded that we are together, to sustain such love in the echo of memory. And simply, especially, to just let go.

The tears of the mountain fall, and splash the earth in renewal. A ground salted by insincerity and the dust of dreams forlorn.

Sparks of divinity. Fragments of an ideal. We may strive to be superluminal beings, but are still nonetheless human. Caked in the dirt and ash endemic of our nature. Scrabbling through the debris of fearful obligation, suffocating virtue in the rote whims of expectation. Staunched by stimuli we find ourselves lost and yearning. White light simulacra supplanting our essential truth.

Yet the mountain is bigger than any of us, and impassively wise to the wickedness of man. It weeps for the profane and the lost potential of what was, yet churns in timeless tectonic cycle. Spirits of countless ceremonies ascend and descend through the centuries; each carving their own path yet ever sanctifying the land.

And under the mountain’s eternal auspice, this house may yet become holy.

https://heathenstorm.com/2024/07/05/tears-of-the-mountain/

#blackmetal #death #fire #hexvessel #houseoftheholy #livemusic #mementomori #metal #music #occult #ritual #solstice

GardensTale Goes to Roadburn 2024

By GardensTale

Roadburn is a unique festival. Many have no idea what it is, but those who know it often revere it. Starting in 1999 as a traveling stoner festival, it has grown into one of the most adventurous, envelope-pushing celebrations of music worldwide. The line-ups have grown increasingly experimental, and a few years ago the festival adopted the slogan Redefining Heaviness. It’s a mission statement that indicates the wide scope of the festival, exploring other forms of heaviness through the inclusion of genres beyond metal.

My partner and I have visited every Roadburn since 2017, when I last wrote a report on the experience. At the time, we had a sweet arrangement allowing free entry by playing host to a performing artist. Unfortunately, this option no longer exists since the pandemic, so instead we have been inviting random festival goers, which has netted us a steadily growing slew of festival buddies from across Europe. This year was no different, with a few old friends and a few new ones taking up residence in our living room. With the fires of friendship thus stoked, we set off on our sixth voyage into the depths of the heavy underground.

Day 1 (Thursday, 18th of April)

2:34 PM — Got to Hexvessel’s set playing Polar Veil a little late, because one of our guests needed a bracelet still. Good doom, played well, but doesn’t blow me away. Room is crammed, but it’s the first show of the festival.

2:44 PM — Watched a few songs, then went to grab merch. Hoodies were already sold out in several colors.

3:11 PM — Sunrise Patriot Motion is like “what if Ashenspire swallowed a synthwave band” and I like it. It’s a strange contrast but it works.

4:03 PM — Wiegedood were doing a live soundtrack to a Japanese experimental silent film from 1926 and it was as odd as that sounds.

5:44 PM — Grabbed some food during a gap in the schedule and afterward watched a few songs of Sean Mulrooney’s set (from Tau and the Drones of Praise). Dark folk with sparse vocals doesn’t really work unless the vocals are good, and these weren’t.

5:47 PM — Now sitting outside the venue where UBOA is doing her thing and it sounds like two supercomputers on train tracks colliding head-on. Bit above my maximum noise-to-music ratio.

7:16 PM — Inter Arma is pretty dang massive. Sound in the venue isn’t great so the guitars aren’t getting their due but faces are caving in.

8:26 PM — WHITE WARD IS FUCKING AMAZING

8:35 PM — Their saxophone player is in the army so they had to make do with samples, but after 4 canceled appearances due to Covid and the war, it was worth the wait.

9:46 PM — Everyone and the family dog wants to see Chelsea Wolfe, so being 20 minutes early still meant nosebleed spots in the balcony. Wolfe fills the room anyway. I don’t always click with her albums that much, but man she is a force to behold on stage.

10:54 PM — Shows hadn’t left much time for food today, so a big fat doner wrap will have to do. A fellow with too little blood in his alcohol walked into the door and cracked his head on the tiles. Walked away 10 minutes later. Hope he survived.

11:37 PM — Goddamn, Backxwash is heavier with her hip-hop than most bands are playing metal. No one on stage but a black woman in a poofy dress laying down the law over raw industrial beats. Fucking awesome set.

Day 2 (Friday, 19th of April)

3:14 PM — Started off crammed into the room like sardines to hear Fluisteraars do an experimental set: the droniest of drone with birdsong on top. Handled about 10 minutes of that before bailing. Not my jam and way overcrowded.

3:39 PM — Mat McNerney (aka Kvohst of Hexvessel and others) doing a commissioned piece called Music For Gloaming: A Nocturne. Very gothic doom/black mixture, pretty cool set with loads of atmosphere.

6:33 PM — After a meal we went to check out Lucy Kruger + The Lost Boys in the Hall of Fame venue. Very nice weighty dream pop, not unlike Emma Ruth Rundle.

8:31 PM — Good thing we were there because Inter Arma was drafted for a second performance, a secret set of material from their classic albums. Also in the Hall of Fame, the smallest venue of the festival. Absolutely brainscramblingly colossal. Easily the heaviest thing on the festival so far.

9:52 PM — Another secret set, this one by Couch Slut in the skate park. Harsh music under the harsh glare of the tubes. Great performance and the venue brought out their punky DIY spirit, looking forward to seeing them again early tomorrow for their new album playthrough.

Day 3 (Saturday, 20th of April)

1:24 PM — Knoll for breakfast is kind of terrifying and overwhelming but also kind of awesome in a “my skull is now 2D” kind of way.

1:26 PM — Suddenly a wild trumpet appears!

2:25 PM — Couch Slut playing their new album. Raw as all fucking get out. Great show! Excellent live band both performances, visceral as fuck. The frontwoman confessed to only sleeping 90 minutes that night, and occasionally it showed, but by and large, she killed it.

2:50 PM — Oneiroporeia is a super young band and it shows, but their blackened prog-goth sound is solid and promising.

5:04 PM — Roadburn has a queue problem this year, especially today, and primarily at the Spoorzone venues. It’s always unclear when a venue opens and the queues have gotten gigantic. After wasting some time in a queue in an attempt to see Agriculture, we decided to settle in at the Main stage and wait for The Keening.

5:52 PM — The Keening is as beautiful and fragile as the titular Little Bird, but could use a few more dynamic stanzas to balance out the mid-weight atmodoomfolk a little. Still quite pretty though.

8:37 PM — Between rain and queues we settled on Ni in the Paradox jazz club. Super skronky instrumental jazzmathcore is healing my soul right now.

10:44 PM — Ni turned out one of the best things I’ve seen at the festival this year. Cult Leader’s acidic sludgy hardcore made a run for the podium, but their gothic-doom passages just aren’t as captivating. When these guys go full blast though, they’re absolutely vicious.

11:32 PM — In the spirit of trying new things, we ended the day with a few Frail Body tracks. Safe to say that screamo is not my new passion.

Day 4 (Sunday, 21st of April)

3:05 PM — We dragged our exhausted husks to the Terminal for the final day. Kicking off with Laster is a good start. The weird psych black band with ghoulish masks are pretty much studio-tight. It does feel a little clinical or impersonal as a live show but it’s a very solid performance.

4:47 PM — Today really is black metal day at the Terminal. No complaints from me! Verwoed tears down the place with their ritualistic and reasonably melodic take. Good sound and a spirited performance. The Dutch black metal scene proves to be thriving once more.

6:27 PM — After all the doom and gloom, a little black thrash that’s all riffs and no brakes is just the ticket, and Devil Master hits the spot. Doing the second half of the set sitting on the floor by the wall because my feet are withered stumps at this point.

6:31 PM — I’m also surprised by the amount of delighted surprised faces I get from bartenders when I show them my order on my phone screen. Is it really that uncommon? It’s so much simpler than shouting!

8:32 PM — Biological necessities (aka food) and a queue meant missing the first half of Fluisteraars’ full black metal set. This is a shame because fuck me this is one of the best performances of the whole festival. It’s apparently only the second time the band performs live and they put most of their peers to shame.

10:18 PM — Dödsrit led a 50-minute war band to raid and pillage the Terminal. Baller set, tons of energy and extremely fun! Sound was a bit off, as is tradition in this venue, but it didn’t spoil a good time. Thought this would be the last show for us, but in the interest of a last drink with a few friends we went to…

11:29 PM — …the main stage for Cloakroom. Not a terribly engaging band even by shoegaze standards, but a nice lullaby to sing the festival to sleep.

Between collaborations, commissioned pieces, secret sets, and integral album presentations, not to mention a lot of bands that would not fit in at many other festivals, Roadburn’s line-up is always unique. I’d never have found bands like Ni or Lucy Kruger without the concerted efforts of Walter Hoeijmakers and Becky Laverty to keep Roadburn one of the most forward-thinking festivals out there. I found some new favorites and checked out some bands I knew only by reputation. But best of all is experiencing it all with an ever-expanding gaggle of friends. We’ve rarely watched a show with just the two of us; nearly every time we had the company of friends, and come rain or queues, that is the best way to experience this festival.

#Agriculture #Ashenspire #Backxwash #ChelseaWolfe #Cloakroom #CouchSlut #CultLeader #DevilMaster #Dödsrit #EmmaRuthRundle #Fluisteraars #FrailBody #Hexvessel #InterArma #Knoll #Laster #LucyKrugerTheLostBoys #ni #Oneiroporeia #SunrisePatriotMotion #TauAndTheDronesOfPraise #TheKeening #UBOA #Verwoed #WhiteWard #Wiegedood