Ostots seems to be making a name for itself among some sections of the black metal underground, not least for the origins of the band bang in the middle of Basque Country somewhere near Bilbao, Spain. In fact, I discovered upon brief investigation, that there are quite a few black metal bands originating from the Basque area (notably Elffor whose Son of the Shades still ranks among my favourite ambient black metal albums). Well, who knew? And who cares? Well, it’s possibly interesting because the Basques are actually among a tiny number of Western European cultures where separatists have been carrying out an armed struggle until as recently as 2010. Surely interesting from a black metal point of view where indigenous culture (whatever that means – it normally almost always depends on where you start the historic clock…) seems to mean so much.
Anyway, I’m not clear where in that debate Ostots mainman – in fact, yes, you guessed it, the only member of this one-man black metal band – stands on all this. But, either way, this is some pretty lush sounding black metal that strikes a nice path between lo-fi production and trance-inducing guitars. It’s all helped by the counterbalance of some croaking vocals that occasionally turn into shrill yelps just to break the drifting peace of the keyboards and semi-melodic pulse. In a field that is almost swamped with decent but often indistinguishable bands there is definitely something unique about Ostots that’s worth checking out. Whether it’s the spiralling chords of track two Gaua I (Malenkonia) or the meandering keyboard fanfare of the third track Bide Bakartia, where the bands style breaks through.
Yes, there is something undeniably reflective, venerable and windswept about the Ostots sound. This is, of course, distinction by small degrees of difference, because for many I suspect the uniqueness of Ostots will be barely worth the mention. Because for all that you can bathe in those buzzing riffs, seek out those eminently collectable and extremely limited splits and demos which have leaked out from the Ostots camp over the past seven or eight years, you can’t escape the feeling that this will be instantly filed within your collection among music of a similar type – albeit a fine example of the semi-ambient, semi-melodic black metal undergrowth. Even as we arrive at the final couple of tracks proper, Negu and Gaua II ( Hil-argi), and before the final outro, you might well be inexplicably addicted to Ostots or you’ll be wondering if you’ll ever find your way back to them ever again.
That said, from my point of view, the hint of ecstatic melody drifting out of the darkness contains within it everything I want from the final black metal album on my ‘phones before I turn in for the close of day. The melancholy and the promise of something better, or perhaps worse, it’s all in here offering you a bleakly emotional embrace. But this is probably one for the hardcore ambient or atmospheric black metal fan rather than anything lashing at the boundaries of something new.
(7.5/10 Reverend Darkstanley)
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