Utflod – Efterdønn Review

By Dolphin Whisperer

Music doesn’t have to be complicated to be good. In the metal, rock, and punk worlds, this holds especially true, with a churning fight riff or stumble-step slam holding just as much power to contort faces and limbs as much as any spider-fingered fretboard fury. Utflod, a young new band from Norway, holds this idea especially dear, with their brief catalog to this point showcasing a fiery attitude and noise-coated spirit. And, now, entering the scene proper with a thirty-minute punk-ambitious full-length, will Efterdønn be Utflod’s first chapter on the path to underground riches?

Despite a simple attack, Utflod does seem to want for more than the typical rip ‘n’ roar of -core-tinged, ideals-driven missions. Well, if you understand Norwegian, you may get more of a lyrical lashing.1 The important thing to understand here is that Utflod translates2 to “discharge.” And while Discharge isn’t the main flavor of hardcore throughout Efterdønn, it feels clear that the d-beat progenitors play a role in the base Utflod identity alongside the metal-forward urgency of Integrity and emotional crust of Martyrdöd. At a quick pass, this modern sort of blackened hardcore sound—jangly, often trem’d chords against a rough vocal identity—sits well in the screamo-adjacent waters of dreamy acts like Blind Girls or grind-leaning burners like Crossed, with Utflod even throwing in three odes to the barely-a-song grind blip (“Du lider,” “Utflod,” “Rier”). For a young band, Utflod wears a lot of hats.

Yet, for a band who knows how to pack a mighty punch with swinging pit-starters and chugging arm-throwers (“Frå eit hjarte,” “Tyrann,” “Primitiv”), Utflod spends a frustrating amount of time doing absolutely nothing. If you had presented me with a bass drag as lethal as the one that opens “Insomnia” and then asked me “Dolph, how should this song end,” I would not have chosen “with a minute or so of bleeps and bloops and silence.” Utflod does this not once, but twice (“Stine”), and, for good measure, they also include a horror film hallway creeper as a mid-album intermission in “Mysteries Doom Santana.” Amongst properly hitting hardcore breaks within tracks and in neighboring tracks—which play straight through as they should (“Askeblot,” “Bygdedyret”)—Utflod proves with little question that they have the chops to shred plenty of good tracks. But with the pacing already stunted by the time that transitional piece lands, it requires a bit of dedication (or a heavy skip hand) to dive into the best of Efterdønn.

For those not dissuaded by Efterdønn’s other introductory bumps, its half-raw aesthetic may push back with a mighty force. Utflod generally presents its riffcraft in a dry and spacious package. Following the crust agenda of thumping bass—not too loud though—Mirko’s dry and growling rumble provides both a quaking platform for hammering riffs (“Insomnia,” “Primitiv”) and spectrum assist for the equally dry guitar escapades. On that front, with little in the way of shrieking leads or whipping solos, vocalist Oda’s highest register yelps and cries land uncontested in the mix. Additionally, with her scathing tirades running front, and center, boosted, and largely stripped of resonance, an ugly sibilance appears at ear-popping moments about many tracks across Efterdønn (“Askeblot” and “Hyklar” offend me the most). Frustratingly, the same high-moisture synth ideas that plague a steady runtime also provide ear relief in solitude, and a comforting wetness to the fizzling, dry vocal performance when acting as a hazy layer (“Insomnia,” “Stine,” “Frå eit hjarte”).

The balance between the crackle and dirt of the underground can often be hard to mix with the polish of standing out, and Utfold makes a valiant effort. At its most exciting, Efterdønn hits with unquestionable hardcore energy and a tasteful blackened edge (“Stine,” “Frå eit hjarte,” “Primitiv”). However, the shuffling punk scuttle that defines Efterdønn’s ever-shifting method of attack comes across as an ineffective indecision more than a well-woven accomplishment. Efterdønn does hit a powerful stride on its back half—easy to digest and thrash and wish I were deep in the pit. But with so many upfront issues, it’s hard to give Utfold the full green light this go-around. Keeping in mind that this is only a debut, though, I have hope that this still-developing act will find a footing in their mighty riffsplorations with a kvltish charm.

Rating: 2.5/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Apollon Records | Bandcamp
Websites: utflod.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/utflodband
Releases Worldwide: October 4th, 2024

#25 #2024 #ApollonRecords #BlackNRoll #BlackenedHardcore #BlindGirls #Crossed #CrustPunk #Discharge #Efterdønn #Hardcore #Integrity #Martyrdöd #NorwegianMetal #Oct24 #Review #Reviews #Utflod

Wormwitch – Wormwitch Review

By Felagund

I have a complicated relationship with Wormwitch. On one hand, I was blown away by their sophomore effort Heaven That Dwells Within. I still spin it five years on and I routinely recommend it to anyone flirting with the melodic black metal or black n’ roll subgenres. On the other, I was generally let down by their follow-up Wolf Hex, which I had the good fortune to review. While I ultimately gave it a 3.0, I haven’t revisited the album much since then, and I still view it as a significant step down from their previous effort. Now here I sit, cradling these frigid Canadians’ latest album (which actually dropped back in July) in my loving arms, hoping beyond hope that this self-titled bundle of joy rights Wolf Hex’s well-intentioned wrongs and signals a return to form. As an AMG reviewer, we’re taught to live in hope, die in despair, and write the damn review already. So enough sharing what I want this record to be; is it good or what?

Well, it’s certainly not what I had hoped for. Wormwitch proved on Heaven That Dwells Within that they have the ability, both as players and songwriters, to deliver high-quality melodic black metal that remains memorable without overstaying its welcome; that incorporates elements of death metal, speed metal, crust, hard rock, and even folk without ever losing its essential, blackened edge; that weaves moving, melodic passages in-between ice-caked sheets of snarling brutality. And while Wolf Hex lacked much of the immediacy found on HTDW, it was still clear that Wormwitch were able to keep their creative spark alive, if somewhat dimmed. On Wormwitch, though, it sounds as if that once impressive flame is guttering, and threatening to go out entirely.

Sometimes this brand of all-encompassing criticism takes a few listens before it fully forms in your mind. But on Wormwitch, the problems are evident from the very first track. “Fugitive Serpent” is loud, blackened bombast revealing an utterly forgettable opener. Follow up tune “Envenomed” could have easily been titled “Fugitive Serpent 2,” doubling down as it does on unrelenting walls-of-sound, augmented vox buried too low in the mix, and a seeming disinterest in lingering too long on any passage, moment or interlude that runs the risk of holding the listener’s attention. As the album expands, so do these issues. Fourth track “Inner War” offers a bit more variety, including an attention-grabbing acoustic intro and a head-bobbing black n’ roll riff near the conclusion that helps bookend yet another forgettable heap of black metal bluster. Back half cuts like “Godmaegen” may boast an engaging, moody interlude between grungy guitar and wheezing bass, “Salamander” may deliver the sparse melancholy that Wormwitch used to such great effect on HTDW, and penultimate tune “Bright and Poisonous” might be where the band decided to toss many of their good ideas, but none of these brief moments are enough to save this album from what it truly is.

Which is what, exactly? To this lowly reviewer, Wormwitch’s self-titled fourth album is less a cohesive work and more a series of brickwalled black metal tropes, loosely held together by flickering, fleeting moments of inspiration. And much like a creaking discount Ferris wheel, this clunker threatens to collapse under the weight of its own hubris. In many ways, Wormwitch feels like the product of a band that is actively devolving before our eyes. While their second album is a mature, memorable slice of genre-hopping ferocity that thoughtfully balances mood, atmosphere and heaviness, their fourth outing is almost the polar opposite, dispensing with nuance in favor of regurgitated second-wave worship. Gone is the finely-tuned songwriting, replaced instead with an “all gas, no brakes” approach you’d expect from a group of untested upstarts, not musicians almost a decade into their career.

After taking such a long break from my reviewing duties, this isn’t the piece I’d hoped to produce upon my return. I want to like what Wormwitch does because I so loved what they’ve done in the past. So perhaps this is simply a case of unfair expectations. But I don’t think so; what appeared to be a bug on Wolf Hex appears to be a feature on Wormwitch, and that’s the unfortunate reality. The promo materials accompanying the album proclaims that this is “a statement of a band coming into its own,” and while I can’t fault musicians for seeking to develop their sound, I can certainly fault the result. Wormwich, it would appear I hardly knew ye.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kb/s mp3
Label: Profound Lore Records
Websites: wormwitch.bandcamp.com | instagram.com/wormwitchofficial
Releases Worldwide: July 26th, 2024

#20 #2024 #BlackMetal #BlackNRoll #CanadianMetal #Crust #July24 #MelodicBlackMetal #ProfoundLore #Review #Reviews #Wormwitch