...Wolfmoon Shadows

…Wolfmoonshadows is the second release from Obitus of black/folk metal band Berserk, under the project title of Obitania. It’s a twenty-minute EP of highly atmospheric dark ambient. It contains only one piece, divided into three sections, entitled The First/Second/Third Face of the Moon. It also bears the distinction of being one of the most frustrating things I have ever had the chance to hear. Perhaps the best way to explain why this is would be to simply describe the composition in detail.

It opens very promisingly indeed. An eerie-sounding fade-in of a high choir effect is quickly resolved into the piece that forms the bulk of this track, which I will refer to for convenience as the main theme. This is a simply stunning piece of music. It appears to have been composed almost entirely on keyboards. The initial melody is very simple and very slow, comprised of long, lingering chords on strings and choirs. Occasional pitch-shifts in the choral effect create a kind of canyon bend sound, which is very interesting. The pulse is driven by a slow, steady timpani beat. Occasional use of reverse cymbal effects and splashes adds a dash of flavour to the mix. There is also a vocal; this is composed of multiple layers of voice, whispering incomprehensibly, with lots of reverb.

The overall effect is just wonderful—it’s practically dripping with a creepy, gloom-laden atmosphere. It’s dark, ominous, and quite oppressive. This sounds like it belongs in a horror movie. It’s not the musical swell just as the camera pans around to reveal that the rubber-suited monster is standing directly behind our plucky heroin; rather, it is the soundtrack to the credits at the start of the film—intended to chill the audience and build suspense, even though they don’t quite know why yet. This section generates a huge tension, which is occasionally resolved by a slightly faster, but very solemn, purposeful-sounding motif on strings. This allows the building chord sequences to resolve, and resets the cycle. The whole thing is all very simple, musically and structurally, but very majestic, organic-sounding, and dark. It’s just incredible.

Some relief is provided to the listener as the main theme fades out to leave in its stead a slightly more electronic section. This is still very dark and threatening, however. Lots of reverse symbol and a haunting violin melody dominate here. Samples of night-time nature sounds in the background provide a thick ambience. With its less organic sound, this generates a stark contrast with the main theme, and a very well-executed change in atmosphere, but not mood. This section abruptly transitions into the second part of the composition.

The Second Face of the Moon opens with a much lighter, more up-tempo section. There’s lots more percussion, of various types, a fairly upbeat piano theme and a relatively complex counterpoint violin melody. It’s actually starting to sound a little jovial, despite its fairly serious tone and melodies, when a big clichéd-sounding violin swell breaks the build-up. This is the “look out behind you” moment. This recedes, leaving the piano theme to continue alone with stripped-down percussion and ambience. This section, and the re-emergence of the violin theme is very clever, and extremely well-composed, although I won’t pretend that I enjoy the melodies nearly as much as the main theme.
This ends with a slightly awkward transition into something much more solemn. It sounds a lot more like the main theme. In fact… it is the main theme. Exactly. I’ve listened closely and I can’t spot even the slightest difference. It could well have been copy-pasted, for all I know. It sounds identical, and the progression and structure are the same. It’s still amazing in both sound and atmosphere, but such blatant copy-pasting is really rather irritating indeed.

Once the theme ends again (it’s about four minutes long), the third section begins. This opens with a fairly interesting percussive theme. It sounds almost tribal. A wide variety of tuned percussion sounds are used, along with a humming background ambience and some of the reverse cymbal that Obitus seems to like so much. More creepy whispered vocals complete this excellent, but all-too-brief section. This ends when it cross-fades into… yes, the main theme, copy-pasted yet again, which plays the record out.

So, what do we have contained in this EP, exactly? Just over four minutes of simply incredible dark ambient, and about six minutes of other material, which rates from reasonable to very good. Ten minutes of music. But as if by magic, just-over-four becomes thirteen, and the total play time is almost doubled. It’s the artistic version of cheating, and it’s extremely annoying to listen to. Brian Eno described ambient music as music to be: “actively listened to with attention or as easily ignored, depending on the choice of the listener”. Unfortunately, this EP definitely does not meet the first requirement. If it were playing, but the listener’s attention was not focussed on the music, then it would probably sound really great. However, you can’t actively listen to it (which would be my preference), because it’s just so frustrating. As such, this release is not worth getting for listeners who like to pay close attention to ambient music, but if it were to be intended for background music only then it might actually be pretty good. On the other hand, with a play time of less than twenty minutes it’s hard to imagine that it would be effective even in this capacity. In any circumstance where it would be played on repeat the relentless repetition would be vexing very quickly, and for once-off plays it’s too short to really work as a mood-setter—you’d have to change it rather soon after starting, and there are few releases it could be paired with as a playlist. Overall, this release somehow manages to be intensely annoying, despite the extremely high quality music contained therein. Avoid.