“Mixing styles ranging from black metal and doom, through post-metal and into trip-hop and noise, one certainly can’t deny Kreationist’s experimental bent. As the record’s heavier sections move between something approaching pummelling second wave black metal and a more symphonic, Cradle of Filth-like sound.” Coma of sounds.
“It’s no secret that I love Neptunian Maximalism. Since the Belgian collective’s 2020 debut, magnum opus Éons, I’ve been craving more. For better or worse, its disciples and side projects have since attempted to fill that whack-ass void. With the likes of Sol Kia, Ôros Kaù, Wolvennest, and even NNMM themselves making metal-adjacent free jazz, however, I’ve met nothing but vague disappointment. As such, the NNMM offshoot Zaäar fell across my lap.” Zaäar she blows!
“There’s no such thing as a truly objective review so let’s get one thing straight: I fucking adore Aborted. Their brand of pulverizing death metal appeals to me on a primitive level and I’ve followed these Belgians for years. For the most part, I have enjoyed being reduced to DNA and endorphins every few years. And it’s that time again. 2018’s TerrorVision was good but it had some issues. Or rather it had one big issue. It just seemed to ramble on too long, which, for a band with grind sensibilities, isn’t optimal. ManiaCult is the definitive younger model.” Culted nuts.
“Neptunian Maximalism took the metal world by storm last year. Éons was an absolute monument of an album, fusing drone, jazz, and psychedelia into one of the most evocative listens in recent memory. It spoke to something primal, something ancient that lived at the bottom of a listener’s subconscious, and snuck its way into my year-end list at number 2. Conjuring the likes of Sunn O))), Sun Ra, Swans, and Miles Davis, it was a concept album regarding the fate of Earth and its inhabitants, resulting in mass extinction and planetary destruction. Only nine months later, we’re treated with a new offering; can Solar Drone Ceremony continue where its predecessor left off?” Maximal effort.
“Fragmentum want to be famous so bad. By the beard of Johan Hegg, they want to be famous so bad. On top of their own homepage with the hip and cool .zone domain, the promo package includes a list of no less than 9 social media and related pages, including Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, Bandcamp, Bandsintown, Spotify, Soundcloud and Apple freaking Music. The package also has the very stylish modern (and generic) band logo in 4 different formats and no less than 11 pictures of the 3 man band (5 of the band, 2 of each band member individually. The promo text, which is so masturbatory it may as well have been handwritten in man-brine, speaks of “a well known Belgian diverging metal band,” trying to squeeze the formation into the genesis of a new subgenre, whatever the hell ‘diverging metal’ is supposed to be. So the trio has everything it needs for its break into metal stardom, right?” Vexed and perplexed.
“Belgium is a weird place. Maybe it’s the chocolate or waffles, but any country that offers groups like Neptunian Maximalism, Emptiness, or Amenra & Co. needs to have its cholesterol checked. Spewing out bizarre organic atmosphere with haunting repetition, artists like these have strangely minimalist tendencies that end up feeling bigger than the individual parts suggest. While spanning a broad range of metallic subgenres, it comes across as otherworldly, surreal, and fiercely dark. To add their two cents to these Belgian shenanigans is Wolvennest.” Temple of Weird.
“As you’re reading this, I’m sure you’re thinking, “Alkerdeel. Why does that sound so familiar?” You ask yourself if it’s a similarity to the British Akercocke – maybe? Well, perhaps a similarity to the illustrious Akerblogger, and you question if in fact the good lad was named thusly – nah, that’s not it either. You give a brief overview of their discography, noting that 2012 album Morinde features a somewhat abstract but violent portrayal of, what, a wolf beating a rabbit to death? That seems excessive for a predator with, y’know, teeth. Oh look, they were involved with Hypertension Records’ The Abyss Stares Back split series that’s fucking impossible to find.” Rabbit don’t come sleazy.
“Belgium’s Fireforce graduated from the same military academy that produced beefy power and/or heavy metal war machines like Dream Evil, Mystic Prophecy, and Sabaton, and apparently these guys graduated somewhere near the middle of their class.” Fire drilling.
“Twenty-twenty has been the year of ore. Iron ore, that is. We’ve seen it extracted from the earth, thrown into the blasting furnace, and molded into steel. From that steel, we’ve seen so many swords forged, that it’s practically raining the motherfuckers. There’s Ironsword and Megatron Sword, Possessed Steel and Blood Hails Steel – Steel Hails Fire, to name a few. And it won’t fucking end as long as Steel is fanning the furnace.” Mask ore die.
“B R I Q U E V I L L E. Yes, the promo blurb immediately reassures me, the “spaces between the letters are indeed part of their moniker.” And I roll my eyes and dispense with the spaces. Quelle is the third record from this Flanders, Belgium collective and the first to have a title, following 2014’s self-titled debut and 2017’s II. The title is a linguistic play on Quelle’s differing meanings in German and French, ‘source’ and ‘which,’ respectively, with the “theme of a ‘source’ and the ‘which’ linking it reflexively to our previous album artwork,” quoth the raven Nazgûl-robed, golden-masked BRIQUEVILLE member.” Another BRIQUE in the wall.
