Ôros Kaù – Thanatos Review

You may know Ôros Kaù’s sole member CZLT from experimental-free-jazz-black-death-drone project Neptunian Maximalism, or perhaps one of the half-dozen other extreme metal projects he’s part of. In his solo work he takes a distinctly more blackened and aggressive approach, though it’s not exactly your straightforward black metal. Thanatos—the first half of an announced diptych, with Hypnos to follow shortly—channels reflections on death and spiritual freedom through occult imagery and echoing avant-garde death and black metal. It’s about as impenetrably menacing as you might expect, perhaps more atmospheric, but denser than predecessor Imperii Templum Aries. What’s important, however, is whether it nonetheless makes a meaningful impression in a sphere resonant with clanging, unfriendly-sounding esoteric projects, on a label stuffed full of them, like I, Voidhanger.

Thanatos is quite difficult to get into. With the exception of final fifteen-minute “Bios-Phos-Metis,” it assaults with bitingly dissonant riffing, gallops and tumbles of blastbeats, and reverberating, gargling growls. It’s not that it’s particularly complicated or hard to follow, just intensely fervent and unnerving at points. This is somewhat to Ôros Kaù’s credit, demonstrating the passion and commitment to concept behind the music. On the other hand, it can make focusing on it somewhat draining. If it doesn’t punish the listener with jerkily layered tremolos and manic tempos, it does so with uncomfortably echoing, layered vocals—screamed, moaned, chanted, or all three. After many run-throughs, I’ve got the measure of Thanatos, and know what to expect, and what parts to look forward to. But I can’t escape the feeling that in spite of its ardor, it mostly passes by as a cloud of noise, without significant impact.

There are things to like about Thanatos, if you listen out for them. The sinister stalk of minor melody throughout “Baal,” the intense build and eventual chaotic collapse into rollovers of “Marbas,” and the grand, eerie echoing notes of the sprawling “Bios….” But the issue is their hiddenness, or in the latter case specifically, the fact that one might well not have stuck around to hear it. Across the record, Ôros Kaù employs techniques that are evidently intended to be unsettling, but which are, you could say, too successful, and come across as jarring. Wails that recall Dødsengel in their operatic fervor chant in syncopation alongside already dissonant instrumentation (“Let Neptune Strike Ye Dead,”¹ “Dawn of the Red Scorpio”), and vocals elsewhere are multi-tracked and reverberate abrasively off each other. Horns accompany and accentuate the tops of spidery riffs (“Nephtys,” “Let Neptune…”) in aggressive crescendos. The same discordant series of clanging riffs and incomprehensible growls repeats and numbs (“Baal,” “Marbas,” “Dawn…”). Throughout, the vocals seem to compete for musical space with the guitars, with one or the other relegated to the murky background to unsatisfying effect.

It seems as though CZLT thrives more in the slower, more atmospheric realms. Both “Baal” and the very NM-sounding “Bios…” have a presence simply lacking elsewhere on the record. Their snaking, sinister melodies of hovering notes are markedly reminiscent of Qrixkuor in their most spacious moments. Yes, “Bios…” is longer than its contents justify, and both fail to develop to a state more than mildly intriguing. But there is promise, and the uncanniness here, which is only hinted at in moments spliced throughout the album, is the most arresting element of Ôros Kaù’s sound.

As intense and profound as it aims to be Thanatos doesn’t strike the right balance between affecting and listenable. It’s a shame because there is some excellently played and intelligently layered musicianship going on within its murk. Amping up the atmosphere might give this project the edge and play to CZLT’s strengths more, but this is likely a matter of my personal preference. I hope third time’s the charm for Ôros Kaù and myself.

Rating: Mixed
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 256 kbps mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: oroskau.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/oroskau
Releases Worldwide: September 22nd, 2023