Stormkult

Holland’s Kaeck – featuring guitarist Kruitwagen from the legendary Dutch outfit Sammath – came and went in the blink of an album, by the name of ‘Stormkult’ in 2015. Prima facie this is a fairly meat-and-potatoes European black metal affair, assembled from slightly more sluggish blast-beats and laboured riffs than Sammath. The production is not so much raw as muffled, as if we’re listening to the mix whilst submerged in a swimming pool. However, far from being a detriment, this ear-battering received from a distance adds a layer of unique atmosphere to the proceedings, especially when the simple yet elegant keyboards kick in from time to time. Vocals flow between a black metal rasp to pained and passionate imprecations that add an additional dimension of drama to the experience.

But what starts out as a very familiar experience for the seasoned black metal fan quickly morphs and mutates over the course of ‘Stormkult’s all too brief runtime. As with a lot of music, it is not the riffs or chord progressions themselves that create the poise and the tension, but the transitions from one to the next, the spaces between the music. We may begin with an off-the-shelf riff in a standard minor key (dare I say even slightly boring at times), we are then forced through several transitions and shifts in pitch and intensity so that – by the conclusion of the track – we realise how carefully crafted the whole was from start to finish. This is achieved whilst rarely deviating from the dominant tremolo strumming. So tightly strung are these compositions that simply amending the length that each chord is held for has a profound affect on the emotional core of the music. At certain points throughout the album, usually when the chord progressions become busier, the keyboards will pick out a simple melody or harmony to accent this further. Simple yet evocative minor scale runs (sometimes reminiscent of Howard Shore’s ‘Lord of the Rings’ score) supervene on this bare-bones foundation.

Because these more complex themes are not so much placed on top of the basic black metal backbone to this album but buried within it, they are easy to miss. Especially as the album really does fly by in just over half an hour. But that does not detract from ‘Stormkult’s value as one of the finest black metal releases of the last decade. It both builds on very familiar aesthetics and techniques, but also, with only the most minor adjustments to these techniques, manages to carve out new creative spaces all of its own. One must also point out that the album rarely alters tempo. The drums keep to a near constant mid-paced blast-beat, which only further emphasises the changes in key and tone from the rest of the music. Other forms of metal, halve the tempo, add a fill, or employ one or another shift in the rhythm section to denote transitions in key, or to signal a coming guitar lead or bridge. But here, because the pace and intensity remain homogenous throughout, the subtle progressions the other musicians work through feel fluid and free, and are ultimately dripping with potential as a result.

So what to conclude from this gem of the modern era? Granted this was released five years ago at the time of writing. But I cannot help but counter-intuitively point out that advances in music are happening slower and slower in the age of the internet. Sure, releases come thick and fast and our access to them is pretty instantaneous. But as a result, wider trends are harder to identity due to the sheer volume of content we must trawl through to identify them. Five years may seem like a long time if we look at metal in 1985 compared to 1990. But not so when comparing 2010 with 2015. Changes happen, but they take longer for us to pick out and stake a claim in defining. At first glance, ‘Stormkult’ may appear to be an unambitious release, focusing as it does on one very specific strain within black metal. But herein lies the deception. ‘Stormkult’ is an album dense with ideas. What at first appears to be limitations is merely the perfection of a craft.

Originally published at Hate Meditations