Originally written by Chris Redar
A proper introduction is a tricky thing. No matter one’s intentions, all it takes is a limp, sweaty handshake or an off-timed downward glance to potentially sour a relationship permanently. Black Soil, the latest from Helsinki’s harbingers of bass-driven doom/drone Horse Latitudes, comes dangerously close to mucking up the deal and ensuring the merger of your ears and their music never sees the light of day. However, once you’ve gotten a chance to wipe your hand off on the bottom cuff of your slacks, there are some nice and unexpectedly catchy surprises in store.
But these intros… fuck. Even absolutely knowing they’re coming and expecting them (this thing is around 38 minutes with 3 tracks) doesn’t make them any more bearable or necessary. It’s like waiting for work to end. Those last two to fove minutes feel like they’re happening in slow motion; every tick of the clock is an agonizing eternity.
As with all things, however, they do end. And what lies beyond is actually a rather upbeat journey into the bleakness of human existence. it’s strange to be able to nod your head along with this kind of stuff, but don’t fight it. Opener “Initiation/Black Soil” begins in earnest around the 2:10 mark with a rhythmic pounding accompanied by a nearly singular bass line. It’s primitive, to say the least, but it also draws you in like the light atop an anglerfish in the seemingly endless abyss of the ocean before swallowing you whole.
Then the vocals kick in and that fish just spits you right the fuck out. They’re not terrible, but the style doesn’t quite sit right. It’s the usual shouted-yet-pronounced approach that so many bands of this ilk do, but not very well. And vocalist Harri does the very Hetfieldian ‘ah’ at the end of more than most of the passages, which only furthers the distraction. There’s clean singing on display here that definitely serves the material in a much better fashion, considering the hopeless and misanthropic nature of the lyrical content.
“Forest” is thankfully devoid of any lengthy introduction. This gets right into the throes of despair (don’t you dare use that as the name for your band, you talentless hack) and doesn’t let off of the gas for a solid 7 minutes. And then it totally does let off of the gas for… you guessed it… a spoken word passage.
It’s pretty good, actually.
Closer “Eternal Spring” takes home the trophy for Least Necessary Intro with a five minute barrage of two notes. Again, like that guy at work who stops you every morning and wants to talk about some fucking show that you don’t even watch, and you’ve told him a thousand times before that you don’t watch it, but he pulls this shit every day… get past it. There is some solid droning action (with mostly clean singing!) to be had. And they fucking nail the outro, with insane banshee-style screaming straight out of your nightmares and drumming elevated to a fever pitch, before letting the bottom drop out completely and washing the entire thing away with fuzzy bass feedback.
So is this thing listenable? Absolutely. Just not on the first rotation. The stuff that is enjoyable becomes moreso with repeated ventures. But on the flipside, the poorly plotted elements become more irksome as a result. It’s kind of like having little hangovers every once in a while during a binge-drinking session: The headaches are usually worth it, but the migraines to start off with? Not so much.
[Of note: This is coming out in two formats- vinyl and… cassette tape. Don’t be the person who buys the cassette tape, please. There’s literally no point to the continued existence of this worthless format outside of the growing market for people who like to look like total dipshits whilst enjoying vastly inferior quality. Don’t make me come find you.]