Blackened surf-rock is certainly a facet of Black Tides, but it doesn’t paint the whole picture. The idiosyncrasies of surf-rock do indeed form the floor of the album: lightly distorted tremolo melodies, and that classic double-tap snare drum pattern. The blackened portion of the album is confined mainly to lo-fi cavernous vocals (“Space Beach Massacre,” “Squall of Cthulu”) and some heavier, more distorted passages that feel a little more Black Sabbath than black metal (“Tethis,” “The Kraken”). Much of this album would be better described as bad-trip surf rock, with shades of the psych-revivalist The Black Angels or even the theatrics of Alice Cooper. It’s also important to point out that this is predominately an instrumental album, though the band has a formidable treasure chest of timbres and textures on hand to keep the sound from stagnating (plenty of synth pads, auxiliary percussion like guiro and tambourine, a theremin, and even a waterphone, an instrument I’ve certainly heard before but never seen in action).
It’s this diverse palette of sound, along with a slavish adherence to their tongue-in-cheek concept, that gives Black Tides it’s je ne sais quois. Black metal and surf rock share more DNA than you may think, thanks to the prevalence of tremolo melodic guitar lines and fast single-stroke fills down the drumkit. Guitarists Jason Mullins and James Magruder do an admirable job of making me believe I’m in Surfin’-USA-gone-wrong with creepy laid-back numbers (“Squall of Cthulu,” “Endless Bummer”) and more maniacally driven ones reminiscent of a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack (“Riptide,” “The Kraken”). The vocals—by Mullins as well—revel in their role as a caricature of second-wave black metal (“Space Beach Massacre,” “The Kraken”), or a de-tuned acid trip narrative (“Squall of Cthulu,” “Tethis”). The band feels at ease in their performance, playing it a bit fast and loose with the timing, but not so much that it sounds like a jam session. And with the aforementioned lean run time, Black Tides manages to leave an impression without wearing out that inherent weirdness.
While Kólga aim to revel in their monster mash-up of a style, not everything on Black Tides has me buying what they’re selling. While bookends “Space Beach Massacre” and “The Kraken” make me believe the band is serious about Scandinavian Surf, the interior of the record strays from the thesis. Other tracks feel pulled from 70’s doom (“Tethis”) psychedelic rock (“Squall of Cthulu”) or straight surf rock (a sagging three-song run of “Riptide”-“Is This Real?”). These pieces are by no means poorly executed, but the divergence from the original genre pitch feels like the band threw everything at a wall to see what would stick, making for a listening that feels more unfocused than confident. The mix also feels a hair thrown together, with the drums—cymbals especially—feeling less crisp and seated than the rest of the instruments. I commend Mullins for committing to the bit with his vocal performance, and while I enjoy his Davy-Jones-on-LSD voiceover in “Squall of Cthulu,” the clean singing at the end of “Is This Real?” is strained and beginning to replace parody with cringe.
Gripes aside, Black Tides manages to provide a wacky, whimsical, yet under-baked detour from the more self-serious sides of metal. While I’d like to see the collective create a more cohesive and focused sound for future records, I can envision myself using a few of these tracks as background for Halloween or other mind-enhancing get-togethers. The band seems to have had fun making this record, and I hope they return to the project to make it bigger, bolder, and weirder. Now to find out the going rate for used waterphones on Ebay…
Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Ottis Media Records | Bandcamp
Websites: facebook.com | Bandcamp
Releases Worldwide: March 29, 2024
