Although the record also features a couple of softer ballads, the most typical music is a form of black metal fused with loungey rock. While this might sound fun, the leisurely pace largely imitates the tempo of the source material. Simply layering electric guitars and harsh vocals over the original melodies and rhythms results in a series of unimaginative covers. Despite generally preferring heavy metal to chamber music, I’m less enthused by The Black Nativity than I am when hearing an amateur choir around Christmas. Though most tracks fall into this bucket, it’s the exceptions that highlight the rule. For example, “Stille Nacht” reinterprets the famously muted “Silent Night” into a proper black metal song, rather than just a carol performed with metal instruments. Likewise, the cover of “Auld Lang Syne” is a surprisingly delicate acoustic interlude and the closest I reached to an emotional connection with A Hill to Die Upon. These moments of deviation from the tempo of the original material offer the record’s best moments.
The loungey pace at which the music renders something like black metal also results in The Black Nativity feeling like a deeply strange album. “Hymn to Marduk”1 offers a sparse, barren opening with atonal guitar plucking and discordant background synths. It’s a strikingly un-striking opening, beginning the album on an unsettling, moody note. This contrasts jarringly with “VENIVENIEMMANVEL” (“Veni, Veni, Emmanuel”?) which begins with an upbeat, crunchy riff with gurgled vocals on top. It doesn’t even sound like the same band, let alone the same album. “Minuit Chretien” demonstrates this eccentricity once more, closing The Black Nativity with what sounds like a female French singer recorded at a distance and through a wall. I don’t doubt this was intentional but what this intention is baffles me.
This strangeness which is initially intriguing is only a veneer that cannot ultimately mask other fundamental weaknesses. The lilting tempo refuses to accelerate to metal speeds, even while using black metal instrumentation. And the clean singer is perfectly competent but somehow fails to convey any emotion whatsoever, with a distinctly bland tone. The combination of these two elements leaves a lethargic, emotionless, and dull taste long after the strangeness has faded. Moreover, The Black Nativity reeks of incompletion. The tracks are discordantly arranged (as outlined above) and 4 of them run for just 2 minutes, leaving fragments that don’t feel like full songs. They don’t have the room to grow into anything more than 1 or 2 half-baked passages haphazardly stitched together. Even on the fuller tracks, some aspects feel poorly conceived, such as the additional layer of vocals over a couple of lines towards the end of “Hymn to Marduk.” It sounds like A Hill to Die Upon remembered to include the additional vocals on some lines but not others.
A Hill to Die Upon has failed to buck the trend of terrible Christmas metal albums, but even in such company The Black Nativity is especially devoid of creativity and excitement. The band was evidently more entertained by the prospect of blackened covers of Christmas carols than any listener will ever be hearing them. Beyond the deficient music, I even question the purpose of this type of release. Is there really such an overlap of carol lovers and metalheads that an album of blackened carols was needed? The Black Nativity is poor in conception and poor in execution.
Rating: 1.0/5.0
DR: 12 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps
Label: Rottweiler Records
Websites: facebook.com/ahilltodieupon | ahilltodieupon.bandcamp.com
Releases Worldwide: November 24th, 2023
