Homo Homini Lupus (est) — “Man is wolf to man.” The greatest danger to every one of us is from each other. People are selfish and cruel. This proverb, dating back thousands of years, was chosen by Keres to epitomise their view, that, in the words of vocalist Ares, “humanity is the biggest plague on earth.” Misanthropy is nothing new in the world of metal, and as it happens, neither are the members of Keres, despite this being their debut LP. The band formed after the break-up of black metal group The Crying of Angels, honing a death-influenced, brutal black metal sound. Their first reappearance on the scene since 2016’s Heresy, will eight years of carefully crafted hatred and savagery present in hard-hitting extreme metal, or another entry in the catalogues of forgettable fury?
Whilst wearing their blackened musical and emotional heart on their sleeve, Keres manage to make an album that’s mean, headbangable, and interesting. Violent assaults of blastbeats and d-beats trip their way into stomping grooves, and minor, sombre melodies rise up through tremolos and layered strumming alike. The twisted tones of the razor’s edge technical blackened death, cut through with vicious gurgling snarls (“Eradicate the Infected Seed,” “Immaculate Incarnation of Darkness,” “Pale Horse of Extinction”), recall something like Fractal Generator mixed with Decapitated. And at the same time, ringing, humming hanging notes, cascades of urgently melodic guitar and walls of percussion (“Void and Silence,” “Exist for War,” “Leviathan”) remind me very strongly, perhaps strangely, of Hath, or late-career Wake. Shifting quickly and easily between tempos, Keres ground their compositions in recurring refrains of rapidly descending, aggressively stabbing, and fluidly fluttering guitar that compliment with satisfying precision the emphatic crashes and rolls of the percussion. Homo Homini Lupus is a fun album to listen to.
Much is packed into Homo Homini Lupus, but in a way that’s entertaining and exciting, rather than overwhelming. Infectious, spiky riff patterns (“Exist for War,” “Eradicate…”) bring the gnarly rabidity. Near-core bobbing rhythms crunch and smash for major stank-face (“Oblivion,” “Leviathan,” “Void and Silence”). Wailing, tangled tremolo and spiralling refrains bring just enough beauty to compliment the bestiality (“Exist for War,” “Pale Horse…,” “Until Everything’s Burned”). And it all works. It’s not a mess. Quite the opposite. The smart and slick use of rhythm takes things to the next level, and you can’t resist its pulse. The flexibly shifting energies are dextrous and precise, backed up by tight, technical musicianship. Stop-start heartbeat chugs duet with twisting guitar; little flourishes and squeals accent the sidelines; rollovers skip and little fills abound; climbing and circular melodies weave up and down. And that’s just the first track. Vocals are punchy, enhancing already heavy, powerful grooves with emphatic synchronised timing to drum beats and crashes (“Oblivion”), and roaring as they pass the baton to a rising, spidery guitar solo (“Pale Horse…”).
Keres keep it snappy, exemplifying, as well as the spirit, the literal nature of Hobbes’ assertion that life in the State of Nature is “nasty, brutish, and short,” by making an album that’s as tightly executed as it is brutal and unforgiving.1 Most tracks lie between three and five minutes, and the whole thing fades to a close at just over 33. This is a good thing, because unless you’re paying close attention, Homo Homini Lupus has a paradoxical tendency to slip by without gripping you particularly tight. Give it the attention it deserves, and a couple of listens, and cool little riffs and slick rhythms will jump out at you. But the sound and fury can be, to some, easy to under-appreciate, as it lacks a little immediate bite.
However things were when I first heard Homo Homini Lupus, it’s now a little hard to put down. Fun, gnarly, and kind of addictive with its endless, earwormy bounce and flow, as well as its vicious, mean spirit. For these reasons it’s no surprise that it’s also become a solid gym companion. I hope we don’t have to wait eight more years for the next one, because if things continue like this, Keres are set to release a stone-cold banger of a sophomore.
Rating: Very Good
DR: 5 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Gruesome Records
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
