As band descriptions/tag dumps go, “metal analog synthesizer atmospheric black metal cyberpunk end of life mega city one” is at least three things: more than a little bit word salad-y, surprisingly accurate as press blurbs go, and: so far up my street I’ve spent most of this review running after it.
Before we go any further: if you’re one of those people who think The Kovenant sold out/went mad/got rubbish after the name change in 1998, stop here. I mean it, just stop. If you don’t appreciate Animatronic as the bizarre masterpiece that it is, you you’re unlikely to get on with Wandering Through Concrete Valleys. Omnikoloss aren’t quite as techno-driven, catchy, and gloriously over the top as industrial-era The Kovenant, but you could still call this Aria Galactica and I’d absolutely believe Lex Icon and friends had finally released it. Put it this way: someone on Encyclopaedia Metallum once described Animatronic (pejoratively) as “disco black metal”, which is both hilariously accurate and a huge part of why I love it (and its follow-up, SETI) as much as I do. Wandering Through Concrete Valleys goes for a much bleaker and generally heavier vibe, leaning into black metal influences where Animatronic went for the lighter end of industrial, but the combination of metal with synths, samples, driving electronic beats, distorted vocals and futuristic dystopia comes out hitting a lot of the same buttons. Darker, bleaker disco black metal, but disco black metal nonetheless.
Beyond the obvious comparison to The Kovenant, the other major influence on display here is Thorns (Omnikoloss is partly made up of former members of Stellar Master Elite, so one would assume they’re familiar with Thorns). More specifically, the intersection between Satyricon and Thorns that reached its pinnacle on the tribute album Darkthrone Holy Darkthrone, where Thorns (with Satyr) covered The Pagan Winter, and Satyricon covered Kathaarian Life Code.
To run briefly (…in theory) through the album in its gloriously weird entirety, A Million Dead Eyes starts out relatively straight, with the disconsolate shrieks, harsh vocals, and pounding metallic-tasting riffs, but don’t get too comfy – there’s a sinister, insidious melody lurking in the background that fades in and out of the foreground, that foreshadows some of the more fun parts of this album. Then we get bubbling synths, restlessly shifting basslines, and the distorted demonic vocoder vocals start: we are definitely not in Kansas anymore. Things then briefly meander off into proggy techno-trance territory (brand new sentences, anyone?) before Swallow you whole jumps straight back into the distorted synths, harsh riffs, heaving wall of sound and guttural vocals, not to mention the first of the surprisingly deadly hooks hiding in this album. Elehat0r starts off with a bewildering swirl of riffs, heavy, brittle-sounding drums and what I can only describe as the ravings of a lunatic (or possibly several, Omnikoloss isn’t a one-man band as far as I know). This track is probably the hardest sell on the album, but there’s enough contrast and oddly charming details in the mix (the power-up noise halfway through, and what sounds like a xylophone solo towards the end for instance) that it’s somehow nowhere near as hard a sell as it should be.
In our eyes opens with a gradually intensifying wall of noise that’s honestly almost identical to the beginning of Jamiroquai’s Godzilla-sympathiser anthem Deeper Underground, albeit presumably without the cool hat collection. I also don’t remember Jamiroquai producing anything quite this brutal or weird either, although fittingly enough there is a saxophone. Because on an album like this, why wouldn’t there be? And while you’re still pondering that, track 5 – Just one fix – explodes into synth beats and swirling rhythms that sound like The Chemical Brothers ganging up with Orbital and Sepultura to rework something straight out of Cradle of Filth’s early days. Whatever Omnikoloss are trying to do with this album – and much as I love it, I still haven’t quite figured that out – Just one fix is almost certainly its zenith: a banger, no less.
The final two tracks, Forsaken in a lost world and Aren’t we human anymore are actually anything but chilled and straightforward, but after the onslaught so far, that’s more or less how they come across. Forsaken in a lost world has some distinct Cradle influences and is probably the most traditionally structured track on the album. After that, Aren’t we human anymore settles into a sprawling, scuzzy soundscape that – in the nicest possible way – doesn’t really go anywhere specific except to briefly channel Climbatize (The Prodigy), and is actually a pretty good comedown to end on. Like most of the rest of the album, there’s a hypnotic synth rumbling away in the background, and I keep finding myself – again, in the nicest possible way – zoning out to this track.
(Yes I know, there was nothing brief about that. Sorry not sorry.)
Just in case it’s not blindingly obvious at this point, I love this album. I mean, I really really love this album. It won’t be everyone’s cup of tea because I suspect the audience for this is fairly niche, which is a shame, because this is a genuinely excellent album. Don’t get me wrong, it’s weird as hell, but there are plenty of bands and albums out there that manage to be both mad as a box of frogs and fantastic, and Wandering in Concrete Valleys is squarely in that category for me. Yes, it’ll make some metal fans recoil in horror, but if you’re partial to strange crossovers, like a bit of bleak black scuzz, dystopian electro-beats, compulsive, pulsating synths, riffs to rattle your fillings out, and are open to the downright odd, this could well be the album you didn’t know you needed in your life. I certainly needed it in mine.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and wait (im)patiently by my letterbox for the Omnikoloss vinyl set I ordered yesterday.
(10/10 Ellie)
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