Egolution is difficult to describe, as Black Oak’s style swings between tranquility and aggression. On one end, clean guitar arpeggios and soft vocals lull you into a false sense of security. These escalate into mid-paced hard rock riffs, especially during the choruses. Black Oak’s post-metal sensibilities loom just beneath the surface, expressed through thoughtful layering of guitar melodies and multiple vocal lines. Heraclitus tells us that you can never step in the same Egolution twice, because constant melodic tweaks keep Black Oak’s sound in flux. Egolution’s energy peaks in its most hardcore-influenced parts. The guitars screech like Converge and chug like there’s no tomorrow, while the vocals transform from clean and delicate to harsh and furious. Despite some glaring differences, Egolution’s prog/post proclivities and its dance between serenity and intensity remind me of Dreadnought. I’ve only scratched the surface, as Black Oak embellishes their music with keys, strings, and occasional electronica. As impenetrable as Egolution is at first, its wild stylistic variety stands out.
Egolution gripped me through its emotional power. Black Oak’s instrumental layering produces deceptively simple songs that burrow under your skin. The best examples are the hypnotic rhythmic sections, which are a pleasure to let wash over you (“Doubt”). By imbuing every melody with feeling, Egolution evolves from dark and brooding (“Trauma,” “Shadows”) to hopeful (“Death,” “Transition”), culminating in the bittersweet “Prolog.” Samuéla Burenstrand’s stunning vocal performance plays a huge role. As if her love of animals and DIY nail art weren’t enough to win my heart, her vocal versatility is nearly unmatched. Mixing clean and harsh singing is hardly new, but few vocalists could rival either her technical prowess during tender sections (“Shadows”) or her unbridled hardcore fury (“Doubt”). I won’t soon forget her mournful “Hope that no one will recall me / Because I know what I’ve become” (“Shadows”), her screams of “Running out of time” (“Doubt”), or her calming chant of “Slowly floating with open hands” (“Transition”). With Burenstrand’s help, the climaxes of this evocative journey hit hardest, like the quadruple-tracked vocals leading into the final chorus notes on “Transition.” These inimitable high points keep me coming back for more.
Egolution would work even better if it were sleeker. While the hardcore sections provide a critical contrast to the softer parts, Black Oak tends to overdo it. Their greatest strength is their intricate songwriting, so the album suffers when they resort to nondescript chuggy riffs for extended periods. As a result, the middle of Egolution doesn’t fare as well as its bookends, as “Conflict” and “Collapse” feel too generic to leave a mark. Given the ample 53-minute runtime, chopping off this repetition would make the record both more manageable and more exciting. A loud master also weakens the impact of Egolution; the climaxes sound too cluttered (“Transition”), and the sparse serene sections don’t sound sparse or serene enough (“Trauma”). Still, the ebb and flow in Black Oak’s intensity helps Egolution stay interesting, despite some missteps along the way.
Just as El Cuervo said about Dreadnought’s The Endless, Egolution’s intricate writing and wide-ranging influences make it a confusing initial listen but a grower. Black Oak rewards patience and emotional investment with catharsis. Post-metal is a difficult genre to write well, and the depth of Egolution’s sound makes it a satisfying debut. This degree of control over peaks and valleys is a particularly rare sight from a new band. While streamlining their composition and their production choices would make Egolution even punchier, I’m excited to hear Black Oak back at the plate.
Rating: 3.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320kbps mp3
Label: Self-Released
Websites: facebook.com/blackoaksweden
Releases Worldwide: April 14th, 2023
