Drudkh’s eleventh album is released against the backdrop of their homeland fighting for independence from the renewed imperialistic urges of Mother Russia, a situation which the Western world clearly empathises with. Regardless, as with my Necrom earlier in the year (and ignoring the handwringing SoM press release), I’ll address this inconvenient truth upfront; Drudkh have a somewhat awkward relationship with racism, dating back to Roman Saenkos flirtation with Nazi imagery during the early days of Hate Forest, courting further controversy by dedicating 2005 opus “Blood In Our Wells” to a Ukrainian nationalist who fought with the Nazis against Russia in WW2.

Following the release of an ill-advised and clearly racist t-shirt by original label Supernal Music, the band signed with Season Of Mist in 2008 and made their sole public statement on the matter, eschewing any suggestions of involvement with “extreme politics”. One would hope that as somebody rumoured to be a history teacher, all the early controversy was little more than youthful edginess and naivety on Saenkos part. However, the line between noble patriotism and xenophobic nationalism remains blurry; the jury is still out.

So, to the music then. Though Drudkh have historically dealt in a particularly lo-fi, analogue brand of black metal, their two most recent albums bore a pace change in production values, with “A Furrow Cut Short” in particular boasting a more beefy mix than previous offerings. “All Belong To The Night” returns us to the more organic, thinner atmospherics of yesteryear, somewhat teasing with a mere four tracks running to a total of 45 minutes.

“The Nocturnal One” gets us off to a rather urgent start, bulldozing its way into your ears before tempering the initial fieriness with exploratory passages that are almost cinematic in atmosphere and scope. Special merit at this early stage goes to the drumming, showcasing great flair not only throughout this track but indeed the whole album.

“Windmills” is somewhat different, a subtle synth-esque intro enhanced by a (possibly vocoded?) harmonised chant, interrupted by some of the most venomous, despairing vocals I’ve heard on a Drudkh release for quite some time. Jangling guitars and deftly picked melodies bring us to a windswept outro, before “November” sees Drudkh spread their wings further into melodic doom territory for a short spell, tying in with the folkish elements sprinkled elsewhere throughout the back catalogue.

“Till We Become The Haze” takes up a third of the album on its own, though a distinct break at around the eight-minute mark gives the impressions that it could comfortably be a fifth song. The back half of this number strays into progressive doom, with tempestuous percussive play and distorted bass leading a quite astounding flourish that recalls Anathema at their glorious, feedback-drenched best. The track is bookended with a delicately picked melody that gently brings the album to a close.

This is Drudkh sounding leaner, more urgent and ambitious than ever. The distinct separation of layered guitar parts gives the listener a different focus with each subsequent playthrough, and the way that the growl of the bass cuts through the mix is simply suberb. Though their personal politics may remain ambiguous, the quality of their music endures, and “All Belong To The Night” will be one of 2022s essential albums.

(8.5/10 Doogz)

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