The fatal flaw and the downfall: this is Hamartia. The epic Greek mythological tale of Tantalus is the story behind this album. Through 70 minutes of instrumental progressive music, Noorvik have the task of telling it. Having previously reviewed their album “Omission” (2019), I already knew that Noorvik have plenty of strings to their bow, as it were.
A mystical air prevails, as Noorvik patiently build up the scene. “Tantalos” breezes along merrily but it’s hardly setting fire to anything. This is followed by the moody and dreamy “Hybris”. Always post-rocking along, it enters a darker and edgier phase. Then it’s time for the band members to throw themselves about and make some shapes as they do when it gets more tense and dramatic before reaching a dreamy end. If the next couple of minutes seem a hypnotic slow burn, then it at least sets the scene for the beauty of “Ambrosia”, a quiet and atmospheric track during the first section before bursting into heavy dramatic ambience, and returning to the quiet guitar line. It’s like a ticking clock with pulsing sounds in the background. Ooh arr, “Ambrosia” now moves to melancholic beauty, making me wonder why we needed the heavy section. The quiet ambience is full of riches. The sound breaks out again to finish. I loved the delicate soundscape of “Ambrosia” but couldn’t get its purpose other than to switch things around a bit.
From 10 minutes of “Ambrosia”, we go to 15 minutes of “Feast”. The start is slow and deliberate, picking up in pace and wooziness. The style is rock, almost bluesy. Momentum is increased again. For a while it’s scything and dynamic. It stops and it’s as if we start all over again. The persistent guitar and surrounding sound drive it along in a menacing way. And finally, the closing sequence, if somewhat straight line, brings real drama and tension. “Aeon”, by contrast is more calming and ethereal. It’s like Cult of Luna in reflective mode. Whilst having its moments, “Atreides” is a mish-mash, ranging from sharp dynamic movement to keyboard-enhanced reflective, but ultimately the progressive style of post rock that I expected from this band. “Tartaros” oscillates between creepy but delicate passages, and moments of dark power. The power then dominates as the track descends into weighty scenes, closing out in pompous and tragic tones.
“Hamartia” is pleasant enough to listen to and has dark and lighter elements but for me it dragged on. It didn’t really help that I wasn’t into the concept and I couldn’t really match the music with it until the very end. Personally I preferred the slower ambient passages with their hypnotic beauty but overall I didn’t really get anything out of the patterns or sequences here.
(5/10 Andrew Doherty)
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