If you spend any amount of time monkeying around on heavy metal websites these days – and for the love of God, why wouldn’t you? – you’ll quickly discover that there’s a fairly epic, abiding love & hate battle raging with regard to the current US black metal scene. What’s real and what’s false, what’s too trendy, too old-fashioned, too progressive, or simply not “black” enough. In the end, as is most often the case, all the bickering basically solves nothing, save for further deepening the line separating those who give far too many, or far too few fucks. One thing’s for sure, however: We by-God love an enduring, unsophisticated and futile fight.
On a personal level, I’ve always felt America’s contribution to black metal hit its pinnacle through the works of Judas Iscariot, which hopefully provides a window to my general preference of the style: Callow, suffering, droning and fiendishly damning. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy the bands that insist on fuzzing the line, but my black metal moods are most often primal, so acts such as Dispirit, Palace of Worms and Krohm net most of my attention when opting for material from this side of the pond.
Chicago’s Avichi — a one-man enterprise delivered through Andrew “Aamonael” Markuszewski (also of Lord Mantis) — draws from a similar forge that emphasizes repetitive, straight-forward buzzing wrapped in swaddling misery, albeit from a more polished angle. Polished, sure, but still dirty enough around the edges to keep purists in their seats and paying attention. Instead of washing the mid-to-fast-paced turpitude at the heart of crux tunes “Flames in My Eyes,” “Lightweaver,” and “Voice of Intuition” in woozy, rough-hewn smoke & mirrors, Aamonael chooses to deliver the bitter pill with a more “Swedish” approach that’s heavier and gives each instrument a fair share of the spotlight. In that regard, Catharsis Absolute‘s overall sound is tailor-made for fans of Ofermod, Malign, Mortuus, or even early Watain.
As evidenced by the above sample cut, the record isn’t exactly devoid of bells & whistles. Twists of pretty-but-grim guitar give the corners a welcome melodic touch – particularly up and down the expansive, hypnotic plod of the 12+ minute “All Gods Fall” – and gloomy piano adds to the suffering by setting up a tragic mood during the album’s brief intro, and it nails the coffin shut over the full stretch of the morose title track that brings the album to a brutal close.
In the end, I’d say Avichi‘s third full-length foray does a exceptional job of bridging a few gaps in today’s temperamental US black metal scene. It’s unquestionably rooted in the pittiless nihilism that calls to fans like some sort of degenerate siren, but it’s just polished and dynamic enough to appeal to those who’d rather avoid the cuddly trashcan end of the spectrum as well – the best of both worlds colliding in a bent, wretched collapse.
