A Place to Call My Unknown

With LADLO Productions’ release of Pensées Nocturnes’ album Grotesque they caught my attention, and it was to me one of the best black metal albums I’ve heard. With Cult of Erinyes they’ve signed another act I’d never heard of, and since they did so well the last time I did have relatively high expectations for this to blow my mind as well. It’s a deathtrap to have too high expectations, usually you’ll just get disappointed since it couldn’t possibly live up to it. But I have to say that A place to call my unknown comes pretty damn close, and is an album full of surprises.

The opener Call no truce starts with a riff that immediately reminds me of Shining, but it’s only so briefly. The song later transforms into something that, riff-wise, feels reminiscent of Mayhem’s middle-to-late releases. And when I think I have their sound figured out they suddenly hit the brakes and the song mellows down a bit, and a clean set of vocals set in, and out of the blur it sounds like Mourning Beloveth started playing black metal. I have to say that one song alone transforms so many times, so fluently and flawless, it’s absolutely incredible. The following track Insignificant brings a more clean black metal sound, and feels a bit like a mixture of Watain and Avsky. As Ísland sets in they take on another direction and sounds like a halted version of Antaeus, with their typical militaristic drum style, and even with vocals that carries slight hints of MkM’s harsh grunting screams.

A place to call my unknown keeps making these twists and turns in between tracks, as well as in the middle of the tracks. One might think it’d become a nuisance to have too much variation, but one would be seriously mistaken. Cult of Erinyes manages to bring all this diversity together and make it a sound of their own. The riffing is absolutely flawless, bringing chilling melody, haunting eeriness and serious brutality to the table, creating a marvelous atmosphere. The drumming also moves seamless between raging speed and technical breaks, and with humongous variation in vocals the album is just chock-full of nuances.

It’s a very majestic record, one that in many ways remind me of the extraordinarily majestic masterpiece of Ondskapt; Draco sit mihi dux. Not always in style, but in pure brilliance. I’m seriously impressed by the lack of cracks in their sound, seeing as it takes on so many different styles. It really is one hell of an album, and I dare say Les Acteurs de l’Ombre have done it again, found a hidden gem and brought it into the light for all to gaze upon, and gasp at its glory.

Originally written for My Last Chapter