Thy Catafalque, the project of Hungarian artist Tamás Kátai, first captured me with the 2011 album “Rengeteg”, since when each album has brought new delights and wonderments. Soaring blackened metal with folk, cosmic and jazz elements doesn’t cover adequately the expansive and creative world of Thy Catafalque as the structures are so unique and experimental, but it gives something of an idea. Each album so far has been a weird and wonderful journey, adrenaline-filled and calming and everything in between. Progressive, avant-garde? An “eclectic sound” with “intertwining elements from a vast swathe of unrelated genres” is one description I read. Whatever it is, the artist, accompanied by 23 (twenty three) recording and guest musicians, is back for Thy Catafalque’s eleventh album.
Starting with leaden-heavy blackened death metal, the album imposes itself. But there’s nothing remarkable otherwise about “A Csend Hegyei” (The Mountains of Silence). The black and rasping vocals of “Testen Túl” (Beyond the Body) reinforce the developing atmosphere. A folk-like melody is hidden in there but stylistically this is black metal from olden times. To thundering drums, a shuddering guitar line pumps out more venom on “A Földdel Egynelö” (Equal to the Earth), interrupted briefly by spooky sounds from the catacombs. The sound range is developing now. Hissing vocals find themselves over a heavy rock line. Drama ensues – this could be a dark soundtrack. “A Földdel Egynelö” is the start of the breakout as a chorus of voices cuts in to the exciting and at times obscure expansion of musical vigour. So far there’d been something ephemeral about what I’d heard, and I suspected that we were being softened up in readiness for the more substantial title track “Alföld” (Lowlands), which comes in at around nine and a half minutes. Its start is heavy and pompous. Symphonic sounds appear through the gloom of this dark and violent affair. Horns siren to enhance the sense of menace. The ambiance changes to initially a post-metal type rhythm and then a fulsome soundtrack-like guitar rhythm with a faint folk element. A lady’s voice emerges, sweetly bring a folk-like element to the lush soundscape that is now developing. This voice then becomes the focal point. With an acoustic backdrop, a Mediterranean-sounding guitar tune reinforces the folk air and takes us serenely towards the end. Somehow this song has all held together in the way that Thy Catafalque does, infuses elements and creating a piece of wonderment.
A dramatic soundscape followed, interspersed with a floaty flute. “Folyondár” (Stream) then enters an electronically-inspired ethnic dance, supported by a violin section. It’s unconventional as one has come to expect of Thy Catafalque but each movement is dynamic. A solemn folk chorus introduces “Csillagot Gðrgetð”. The folk element remains with what sounds like a band sitting around in the woods and with the company of the flute, but ultimately it’s a hard rock track, with concepts being introduced Tubular Bells style as the track goes along and with a dark and mystical element. From the earlier black metal, we seem to have moved to moved towards new musical pastures but “A Felkelð Hold Országa” (The Land of the Rising Moon) brings us back, with its dark metal undertone and rasping vocal. Black meets epic in this case. Mid-way it takes off in a faster direction. The chorus is harsh but the music is fast and driving. If there is a theme, it’s not obvious from the music but one thing which does bind “Alföld” together is its dark atmosphere. The short instrumental “Sziriusz” (Sirius) supports this view before the kaleidoscopic “Néma Vermek” closes the album. The synthesiser combines with harsh and menacing blackened metal. It’s the cosmos mixing with the pungent tones of the underworld.
As ever, it’s difficult to put one’s finger on what exactly the latest Thy Catafalque album is, so there’s an element of bewilderment about “Alföld” with its multitude of musical styles and stuttering fluidity but as a listening experience it’s always inventive and engaging. It’s always a pleasure to be taken to the many interesting places that Mr Kátai and his collaborators take us to, and this is no exception.
(8/10 Andrew Doherty)
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