Sometimes, the album art says it all. In the case of “The Hecatomb”, greying, blue light dimly lights a crumbling vista festooned with skulls and the detritus of skulls. This, my friends, is an omen of what is to come when the album itself is launched: a voyage into a ritualistic, arcane soundscape that conjures more than the constituent parts.
Hailing from Australia, and active since 2011, Temple Nightside don’t actually have all that much of a typical Australian sound. They’re also, I am pleased to say, considerably better than the last four or five bands from that nation I have heard, who have almost universally been appalling. The quality quotient here is much higher, with a rich and complex sound that straddles the foetid space between black metal, doom metal, and raw death metal. As a four piece, Temple Nightside have a full sound, with a particularly dismal appeal that draws on a surprising layered approach to complexity beneath the murk.
The bedrock of the music here is based on that echoey, cavernous death metal sound that we have all come to know and love, though with plenty of fast black metal guitar strumming here. Ordinarily, the rather thin guitar sound would sound like an utter distraction to me, not being my favourite tone, though here it sounds right in place, alongside the plodding, funereal drums and the vocals. On the issue of the voice, Temple Nightside alternate between whispered passages, choral chanting and some more typical shrieking, which all goes to increase the neat sensation of something sinister at work. This is a seriously creepy record, with a pervading, almost drenching sense of dread that drips from the lumbering, lurching songs as they unfold. The hypnotic rasp of the axework pulls the listener in, even as the reverberating bass and drums try and force them away. There’s some variety here too, with some different tempos on display, and an atmospheric mid-album three minute atmosphere piece called “The Murderous Victor”, which breaks up proceedings a little.
Some may baulk at some of the lo-fi sounds here, but I believe that the album does manage to portray an obscure, occult atmosphere, which takes this from the realms of the rather more torpid releases of a similar ilk, and into those of something a little more inventive and immediate. This is a deep, underground cut of metal, to be sure – those seeking instant gratification are likely to be disappointed, but something tells me that that the art that Temple Nightside are seeking to achieve is indifferent to that audience. With a little perseverance, this is an effective, morbid take on lands best-forgotten; sonic tales of terrors long-buried. Welcome back, Australia.
(7/10 Chris Davison)
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