Black metal has many faces, so it can be easy to forget that its most well-known outside of the initiated is the wind-whipped, moon-howling, corpse-painted, devil-worshipping one. Just a glance at La España Negra’s artwork reminds you, as it manages to include a good many tropes of the genre. A sacrificial altar complete with goat head–check. Skulls—check. A defiled version of Christ on the cross—check. Monochromatic color scheme—check. With this as their image, Morta give the impression of trveness, and with their words, claim to take influence from the whole of the genre’s rich history, both “elder expressions from the ‘90s and underground-entrenched ones post-Y2K.” As a debut, the album is key in cementing the actualization of Morta’s musical identity—pictures and words being just that, pictures and words. So, in what way is La España Negra trve—if indeed it is—and more importantly, is it any good?
While there is a great deal of second-wave influence to be found in the scuzzily-toned washes of tremolo riffing, the odd shriek, and blastbeats, there’s more to the story. Melodies that mostly stay subtle and low-key edge into Dissection territory when allowed to come forward (“Estiga,” “Transustanciación Diabólica”). At the other—far more prevalent—end of the spectrum, the cavernous roars and dissonant, clustered instrumentation comes a lot closer to the most unwelcoming of death metal (“La Caída De Los Infieles” especially); the comparison that most sticks here is (perhaps unexpectedly) Qrixkuor. While things calm down from that opening track proper—because yes, there’s an intro—there is a prevailing, dissonant rumble and echo. The young band seem to pull together—as indeed they claim—strands from all sides of black metal’s trvest face, such that they actually sound like no one in particular. The problem is that rather than thus sounding unique, they still lack a strong identifying voice, and so remain largely forgettable.
An absence of overall distinctiveness doesn’t preclude there being some ripping, quality black metal here, and there is. While relatively simplistic, the descending, ascending tremolos of “La Muerte Santa,” and the atmospheric escalations of “Mi Invierno Eterno,” and “Estiga,” are pretty gripping. In the absence of vocals, closer “Transustanciación Diabólica” enables the frosty tremolos to gradually develop their scales against an increasingly stripped-back backdrop, and past its peak dissonance, even “La Caída…” has a pleasingly raw coldness to it, extending to catchiness despite its repetitive pattern. Morta also display diversity, and a proclivity to tap into their cultural roots in the acoustic interlude “Leyenda Negra Del Tiempo,” which is a beautiful, if basic piece of guitar softly accented by the slightest of blackened atmospheres. Another thing La España Negra has going for it is its (comparatively) expansive production that gives the vocals still more of an echo, and elevates its OG-style rawness to something more pleasingly atmospheric—old-fashioned, but with a modern twist.
Essentially the stumbling block for the record is its seeming disconnectedness. We jump from noise-covered orchestral “Requiem por una España Fragmentad,” into what seems to be a classic second-wave beatdown in “La Caída…” but which soon becomes a deathened mash-up of OG black metal, that once settled into something recognizable, vanishes from the mind as soon as it ends. The breathless “Leyenda…”, as lovely as it is, sits awkwardly between the sinister, vicious “La Muerte Santa,” and the layered, melancholic melodiousness of “Mi Invierno Eterno.” And even as this, and the immediately following “Estiga” form the strongest segment of the album—”Estiga”‘s dynamically developing theme holding more presence than anything else here—the two feel tacked-together, and indescribably unrelated in spite of their similar musical proclivities. Similarly, as cool as “Transustanciación Diabólica” is—in fact, it includes some of the most gripping composition of the lot—the placement of this four-and-a-half-minute instrumental at the very end just feels a bit odd.
Given that this is their first LP, La España Negra doesn’t forecast total doom and gloom (of the actually bad kind) for Morta. The basics are handled pretty well, and the band showcase a curiosity for atmosphere and darkly deathened sensibility that has the ability to push their sound out of the indiscriminate murk and into the distinctive. For now, however, they feel like a band yet to find their footing. At least trve genre fans will probably be able to have a nice, sufficiently kvlt time with Morta bellowing in their ears, regardless of whether its one they’ll remember long after it ends.
Rating: Mixed
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Signal Rex
Websites: mortablackmetal.bandcamp.com | facebook
Releases Worldwide: September 8th, 2023
