originally written by Juho Mikkonen
Every year there is a small clutch of releases that deserve a perfect score. It’s not because they’re matchless, let alone perfect (if this triggered your brain to get stuck in the dilemma of subjectivity in qualitative assessment, just fucking quit reading…and quit music). It’s simply because they’re complete as such, because you can’t possibly think of anything that would make them better. And because they are superior to anything else released that year.
Ylistys (“Praise”), the second full-length offering from Finland’s black metal luminary, Cosmic Church, is such a release.
It’s practically impossible to convince anybody to believe that by way of hyperbole, so at the end of the day the best thing to do is to listen and learn, study and understand and then decide. For anyone willing to do that, Ylistys offers a lot to chew on, and it’s not only due to the 75-minute length. It’s rather because this thing would be called short-headed if cephalic index was applicable to metal albums, for it seems to run the gamut of almost every musical element and emotion ever harnessed to manifest black metal’s word-of-mouth gospel. Therein, Ylistys is comparable to such displays of compositional megalomania done right as Weakling’s Dead as Dreams or Dødsengel’s Imperator, yet, unlike these two endlessly sprawling and admittedly self-indulgent epics, the Cosmic Church sophomore outing is somehow meticulously streamlined in that it grabs you by the balls from the first spin.
When it comes to riffs, melodies and beats, Ylistys is a curved line that connects the two dots of older and newer generations of Finnish black metal. The record borrows little bits and pieces from the lingo of the traditional Finnish sound (although it’s questionable if such a thing even exists) but expands upon it and adds so many unexpected twists to the story that you’ve never heard it told quite like this before.
At the heart of the music are the guitars. One can hear a good amount of the trademark Finnish melancholic rawness in the riff department, but Luxixul Sumering Auter, the band’s sole member, always seems to navigate the chord progressions and arrangements off the map and into the unknown (for an example, check out especially how “Maailmojen peilin takaa” develops from the somewhat ordinary main riff). The real jaw-dropper here, however, is the myriad of glorious, ethereal and sometimes even uplifting melodies that L.S.A. summons in wide selection of shapes and forms from somberly strummed to frenetically tremolo picked. Each of the seven long compositions is cluttered with these awe-inspiring blazes of harmonic sensibility, ones which are perhaps most prominent in the album’s two near quarter-hour centerpieces, “Ennen” and “Lupaus äänettömälle äänelle”.
What makes Ylistys even more impressive and, dare I say, visionary − especially after the departure of the long-time drummer Profundiis − is the fact that L.S.A. has visualized and executed everything basically on his own with some help from the Finnish black metal utility man, Atvar (Circle of Ouroborus, Rahu, Venus Star, Vordr plus 7339 other bands). The attention to detail that’s been required to whip this thing up is almost unheard of, and everything − from the way the cymbal laden fills accentuate the lead guitars in “Luon perustani sinun kallioosi” to the subtle keyboard flourishes spread throughout the record − showcases absolute dedication, if not unequaled skill. Even the production job is pretty much spotless for this kind of black metal, giving all the instruments an audible presence yet keeping things raw enough to envelop the compositions in a cosmic aura that is a prerequisite for this kind of music to live up to its potential.
When it comes to the question of what in the name of holy fuck is it that makes Ylistys so special, I, for one, don’t have a clear answer. While anything but amateurish, it’s not a work of instrumental virtuosity. For example, the album’s often employed, plodding mid-tempo drumming (again, a trait one might consider typical for Finnish black metal) is probably something the George Kolliases of this world would sneer at and the clean vocals might not hit every note with marksman’s precision. Maybe the explanation is that Ylistys is one of those rare albums where you hear the artist pouring himself into the music and not showing even the faintest hint of compromise. Or maybe it’s something less high-flown. Maybe it’s not even that good and people will be gravely disappointed.
Whatever, ten points. Praise be.
