Keserves Öröm

Size – as we are all reassured to know – isn’t everything but in the world of pagan-orientated metal there is seemingly a premium on lengthy tracks. As with so many things in this particular sub-genre, this probably has a lot to do with the pervading influence of Burzum, with ‘Det Som En Gang Var’ representing the benchmark. However, this approach can lead to bands overstretching themselves in the quest to create tracks that fit the epic remit, as exemplified, in differing ways, on this split album.

Both Öröm and Keserv originate from Hungary and are deeply obscure, their underground credentials emphasised by the fact that the identities of the two members of Keserv are unknown and that Öröm once created a demo that was limited to one copy and then never released. (Work that one out.) ‘Keserves Öröm’ adds little to the fund of knowledge, as although the CD comes nicely presented with grainy shots of woodland graveyards, the minimal information is all in Hungarian and much of it written over the top of the artwork in cryptic script. What is clear is that each band has opted to weigh in with a single track hovering around the whopping quarter-of-an-hour mark.

The style of music favoured by Öröm (featuring ex-members of the black metal band Frost) veers into dark ambient territory, which probably only intensifies their inclination to go on a bit. ‘Hegy’ begins in predictably rustic style, with the sound of a crackling fire and synthesised wind effects alongside an acoustic guitar playing a clean, slow arpeggio that then repeats. And repeats. So simple is this stark guitar part that it starts to become boring even before the vocal comes in after 2 minutes, which is no mean feat.

Vízió (now the principal member of Öröm) is described as providing “narration” to the tracks, rather than ‘vocals’, and he does definitely speak not sing. Listening to someone sing in a foreign language is rarely a barrier to appreciation, as sung words simply become another element in the musical whole. However, it’s an unavoidable fact that spoken word is far more distracting when you don’t understand it, as it is so prominent and detached from the music, especially here where the accompanying guitar is quiet and unobtrusive. Vízió doesn’t just say an occasional sentence either, the narration is dense and continues throughout. There’s no reason why an artist should ignore their native tongue but anyone from outside Hungary is likely to feel quite excluded from these narrated sections of ‘Hegy’, with so little else to focus on in the composition. Of course, limiting the appeal of Öröm to fellow Hungarians may well be the intention anyway.

More detrimental to the effect of the track is that, although it begins with Vízió speaking normally, when the tempo of the song rises he starts talking in a full-on, strangulated black-metal style, which unfortunately sounds like he’s straining to let out a bit of excess gas after a particularly heavy meal. This ‘evil burping’-style delivery is also not very well controlled and when he shouts it swamps everything else in the mix.

The increase in pace introduces an electric guitar for the first time but it is very light and reedy and just carries on the simplistic, slow strumming of the acoustic. There is no genuine development, despite the addition of sampled brass and occasional rolling timpani in an attempt to heighten the drama. Programmed blast beats appear 8 minutes in but don’t manage to impose any structure, as the lone guitar maintains its basic riff, impervious to any change. This unvarying guitar part that runs so determinedly throughout ‘Hegy’ could have been an interesting motif that gave the track its character but it’s such a weak riff that its perpetual presence becomes an irritant well before the track is exhausted. The guitar also relies almost exclusively on treble, which, allied with the light snare drum that provides just a slow tapping throughout the majority of the track (not always on rhythm, it has to be said) and the apparent total absence of any bass, results in a chronic lack of depth in the sound.

Ultimately, a keyboard march highlighted with a spindly piano and overlaid by horribly artificial ‘ghostly’ noises and an agitated narration draw the track to a close, ending – with fitting oddness – to the sound of bubbling water. Or maybe his tea’s ready. Who knows? It probably makes perfect sense if you know what on earth he’s been talking about for all that time.

At just over 15 minutes, ‘Hegy’ has nowhere near enough content to justify its length, it just meanders along with no purpose, hobbled by its anaemic central riff. The only way it could have salvaged anything is with a distinct and compelling atmosphere but although (or perhaps because) it has a very clear and precise production, it totally lacks depth and tone.

Thus, it is something of a relief when Keserv’s untitled track begins with the welcome sound of proper distorted electric guitars. Indeed, the opening 90 seconds of the track, an effectively slow build of overlaid and deeply echoed guitars, slightly out of sync, gradually rising to a soaring crescendo topped by a single high note, is undoubtedly the high point of the album. Alas, at that point, generic high, rasping vocals cut in, far too prominent in the mix, and the guitars retreat to just a background fuzz, creating a slow, lurching rhythm that is all rather too overfamiliar. But at least the track has some depth and grit to the sound, and there is definitely a bass.

If Öröm’s failing in attempting a long track was not enough content then Kerserv’s problem is almost the opposite, as their track chops and changes virtually every 3 minutes during its length. Sometimes this can be a good thing – as when the bass comes to the fore with a staccato, stabbing force or when the vocals shift from the more prosaic high pitch to a rumbling background growl that is far more characterful – but it does tend to make the track feel rather scattered and not coherent enough. Generally, though, Keserv does show a great deal of promise, with nice touches such as using high-tuned guitar arpeggio over the top of the background low riffs at various points and displaying a sure grasp on structure, with the guitars dropping away to emphasise the bass and drum when the different sections overlap. The manner in which the multiple guitars are occasionally counterpointed within the riffs is also assured.

While undoubtedly black metal in tone, there is intermittently an almost punkish feel to Keserv, with the chugging riffs and simple spiky bass. Indeed, the sections of the track that feature the low, muffled vocal style and heavily foregrounded bass are oddly reminiscent of the seminal ‘90’s punk band The Jesus Lizard in their darker, more oddball moments, such as ‘Happy Bunny Goes Fluff-Fluff Along’.

Apparently, Keserv’s lyrics are not at all happy but deal with issues of solitude and suicide although, being resolutely in Hungarian as with Öröm, this is something one has to take on trust. Fortunately, in contrast to Öröm, Keserv’s sung vocals do not create a barrier to enjoyment and, while the high-pitched, gargling style may be a little too standard within the genre, the deep, rumbling vocal that creates another layer in the sound is highly effective and lends Keserv an individual slant.

Echoing Öröm, Keserv’s track also ends up in a march rhythm, although here far more satisfyingly stamped out on the raw guitars, before finally dying away with the same lone, high guitar notes that had characterised the excellent introductory section.

So far, ‘Keserves Öröm’ remains the only release that Keserv has been involved with and yet they seem far more accomplished than Öröm on the evidence of it. Although they haven’t quite mastered the ability to create a lengthy track that is truly coherent and organic there is at least enough evidence of talent and ingenuity to suggest that they could go on to produce something truly worthwhile in the realm of black metal. Öröm, on the other hand, perhaps ought to start by limiting themselves to playing for no more than 6 minutes at a time, for all our sakes.