To Walk Among Death and Pestilence

Sykelig Englen’s third LP ‘To Walk Amongst Death and Pestilence’ released last year is a rock album in disguise. I say disguise, more like a cheap pair of shades. I suppose we could hold the post 2000 trajectory of Darkthrone partially responsible for some of this. But the raw, lo-fi traditions within black metal have often made use of galloping rhythms, heavily cadenced riffs more fitting of eight bar blues, and an undeniable boogie at different points. But this can sometimes translate into a more trancey, dreamlike sequence, augmented by heavy repetition, that diminishes the domesticated foundations of the music (Drudkh for instance).

But on ‘To Walk Among Death and Pestilence’, despite the necro aesthetics and substandard black metal vocals, the rock sensibilities are front and centre. The riffs are basic and easy to follow, working through the most rudimentary tricks to vary the impact and emphasis in places. The solos belong on a demo tape, coming across as place-holders for something more developed that never actually emerged. The tempo settles for the most part on an ‘Immigrant Song’ style gallop, with little variation on the basic rhythmic framework of this track, regardless of the apparent mood the rest of the music is attempting to convey. Vocals, as mentioned, are run of the mill grim black metal, but don’t seem to correspond to any logical pattern or purpose, existing solely to fill the gaps between the next solo, or the next breakdown, because the riffs that make up the centre pieces to most of these tracks are flat and basic, devoid of any character; a framework yet to be fleshed out.

Applying rock sensibilities to black metal is nothing new. For all the obnoxious drivel black ‘n’ roll artists have pushed out over the years at least it leaves an impact, a feeling, even if that feeling is one of revulsion. But on ‘To Walk Among Death and Pestilence’ even that sign of life has been sucked out the music. What’s so offensive about the release is not that Sykelig Englen dared to tarnish black metal with the banalities of rock. Rather, it’s the fact that the finished product is so inoffensive, lacklustre, drab. Occasional melodies stick out, some unexpected use of synths here and there catch one by surprise. But they are applied to music that never changes mood, intensity, dynamics, tempo, nothing. The result is an album barely over half an hour in length that seems to stretch on into eternity, punctuated by all too brief moments of mild intrigue. I’m all for minimalism and monotony and I’m all for outrageously sloppy playing at times, especially within black metal, but this album fails to compensate for this with the usual caveats of atmosphere, audacity, character. Without that, I’m unsure why it exists.

Originally pubished at Hate Meditations