I often find myself experiencing déjà vu. And as I type this, I realize I probably won’t do the sensation justice. I’m talking about those moments that feel so impossibly real that you begin questioning time and space, what is and what was. That strange, unmistakable certainty that you’ve been somewhere before, experienced something before, but can’t quite remember when, where, or how. Sometimes, that’s the only way I know how to describe music.
I once heard King Fowley of the mighty Deceased… describe Triumph’s Allied Forces in a similar way. He spoke of how certain notes and melodies could take you back to somewhere, or something, almost impossible to put into words. There’s magic in well-crafted melodies and harmonized guitars and their ability to unlock core memories that might not even belong to a time you can consciously recall. Remember the smell of incense at your local record store growing up? The smell of rain falling on a humid summer night? These sensations reach beyond simple nostalgia. They’re almost transportive.
A few years ago, I stumbled upon The Mosaic Window, a one-man melodic black metal project based in Los Angeles. Its sole member, Andrew Steven Brown, quickly rose through the ranks of Bandcamp’s charts with his debut LP, Plight of Acceptance, which was eventually picked up by Willowtip Records. His follow-up, Hemasanctum, expanded upon the ideas on the debut, incorporating a heavier dose of blackened death metal alongside those unmistakable Swedish melodies. And before going any further, I want to wholeheartedly recommend both records. I don’t want my words here to overshadow those because there’s a tangible emotional weight to Brown’s songwriting—the sound of a man wrestling with grief and struggling to make sense of… everything.
It’s evident there are plenty of influences from bands like Gorgoroth, Dissection, and King Diamond scattered among Answered Prayers. That’s quite clear from the short intro “Premonition of the Prophecy” and subsequent “The Fog Carries Plague.” The latter, in typical black metal fashion, is built upon a layer of tremolo-picked power chords and thundering blast beats. Brown adds some little nuances here and there with subtle synths. But the kit work from session drummer Dmitry Kim takes The Mosaic Window’s sound to levels of grandeur. In fact, at times the consistency can even be quite suffocating. But it never drowns out the star of the show—the guitar work. While the first official song on the album is most reminiscent of perhaps a cross between Gorgorth’s Pentagram and Naglfar’s Sheol, “Serpentine” throws in some old school death metal trills before a stroll into “Night’s Blood” inspired passages—the third riff, in particular. And that’s really what Brown does so well with his songwriting in general. Nothing comes across too forced. Take the second half of the song, as another example. Brown reverts back momentarily to the intro trill riff but just an octave higher. While a tiny detail, it’s intricacies of the like that allow the songs to enter somewhat of a flow state. On tracks like “Let Lightning Be Thy Guide”, the arpeggio-backed build to the best solo and, arguably, moment on the album is as melancholic as can be. With the vocals sitting in the distance in the mix, it almost teeters on the edge of something from the mind of Neige during the Ecailles de lune years. It bobs and weaves like an elite heavyweight.
If you’ve listened to any of the project’s earlier material, “What Sage Could Not Cleanse” is probably most similar to the Plight of Acceptance era—melodic, dark, triumphant, and cuts right to the chase. It’s probably the catchiest tune here, especially the main riff. For any King Diamond/Mercyful Fate fans, “Blood and Chains” takes pages from the books of the great Andy LaRocque and Hank Shermann with a gallop riff straight into a ripping solo. The rest of the track moves back and forth between brooding/anthemic and higher BPM malevolence. Speaking of which, the upbeat “Crusader” features a pretty killer Tom Warrior-like punk riff at around the 2:15 mark.
Holistically, my favorite The Mosaic Window moments are those that showcase Brown’s infatuation with the greats. Again, the LaRocques and Shermanns of the world. “Devotion to My Burning Desire” does just that. The gallop riffs, solos, and overall, mid-paced buffet of extreme metal comfort food leaves you scavenging for leftovers…like any good meal does. And the primal scream over the breakdown is the perfect set up to a Dissection-inspired sendoff.
Looking back on the record as a whole, I get a similar feeling to the first time I heard Mgła’s Exercises in Futility. There’s something about the sheer hopelessness of it all. The concept, per Brown’s own words, of humanity being erased from existence as some sort of cure for a poisoned world is about as nihilistic as the Polish black metal duo’s. And yet, much like Mgła’s finest work, there’s something strangely beautiful about it all. It’s a strange juxtaposition, but one that Brown pulls off incredibly well.
Overall, there’s an unmistakable sense of déjà vu woven throughout Brown’s songwriting, almost as if these melodies have been living somewhere in the back of your mind. For all its obvious influences, Answered Prayers never feels like an exercise in nostalgia or an attempt to recapture someone else’s magic. Brown understands what made those records so timeless and, more importantly, knows how to channel that same spirit into something his own. This one feels like the culmination of everything he’s been working toward. Simply put, Answered Prayers is The Mosaic Window at its absolute best yet, and one of the most emotionally rewarding melodic black metal records you’ll hear this year.
There’s a reason The Mosaic Window remains among my favorite current USBM projects and contemporary extreme music projects in general. Answered Prayers is yet another case in point. I have a strange feeling that, as time goes on, more and more people will come around. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or even the day after. But they will. And when they do, much like that unmistakable sensation of déjà vu, I’ll simply say, “I told you so.”
