Out NOW
Via: Independent
Words by: Greg Walker
As Heavy Magazine’s resident Blackbraid enthusiast I feel a pull and a responsibility to review Nocturnal Womb. I wouldn’t normally review a three track EP, but … it’s Indigenous American Black Metal from deep within the Adirondack wilderness!
Nocturnal Womb compiles two byproducts from the Blackbraid II and Blackbraid III album sessions, plus an acoustic rendering of a highlight from debut album Blackbraid I; not quite fitting amongst their respective album’s material, here they’re given the chance to live and breathe, before Sgah’gahsowáh (The Witch Hawk) moves onto composing new material.
Opening with title track Nocturnal Womb, we’re immediately drenched in traditional Black Metal aesthetics: from the outset this could very well be a product of the Black Metal’s classic Second Wave of the 1990s Norwegian scene. Urgent picking echoes around, authoritative, while haunting screams replete with epic reverb harken back to Scandinavian forbears. Driven by an avalanche of ruthless ferocity, it’s apparent from the get-go that the more traditional approach is why this track didn’t quite fit with Blackbraid‘s modern Indigenous American infused material. The verse opens into a steamrolling cadence, a tasty Bolt Thrower style flourishes as a feature in itself, a wonderfully audible bass line in the post chorus, and finishes with an epic emotional outro that’s characteristic of Sgah’gahsowáh’s writing, a tease, leaving you craving more despite the 8:38min track length.
The speed of Celestial Bloodlust is violence untamed, but when it slows for the bridge it’s all pummelling groove. Launching back into the relentless whirlwind, this track is short and sweet compared to Nocturnal Womb, only half the runtime, but proves an aural workout. The accompanying video clip is also simplistic in approach, a bare bones intimate live performance edited with quick cut closeup shots and jerky camera movements adding to the raucous live feel. Low budget, but extremely effective, allowing the music to stand on its own merits.
Sgah’gahsowáh‘s music has moved me ever since Blackbraid I’s Barefoot Ghost Dance On Blood Soaked Soil expertly conveyed to me the pain and anger of a disaffected yet rightly proud culture. Emotion is paramount in music, and in this instance bleeds through the music and vocal delivery. This acoustic interpretation serves goosebumps on hearing the bare-naked strings, vocal melody lines cleverly woven as a captivating new instrumental element, adding another level of forlorn intensity. When the track stops midway for the breakdown, bookended by the security of a crackling fire, I’m overwhelmed; tears well, a stark yet warm reprieve from the urgency of the rest of the track. Deliberate earthy notes insist through frantic picking on bare strings, adding to the fervour. Sgah’gahsowáh has not only added to the depth of this song musically, but rendered it infinitely more expressive and personal. Often meaning is lost in a stripped-back acoustic translation, but the result is quite the opposite here: the unrestrained ferocity of the original now has an added level of raw rage and loss.
Nocturnal Womb‘s cover art is striking, depicting the waning fire of the setting sun, still powerful enough to strike the details of this realm even as it inevitably fades from the day. As shadows encroach the land casting fantastical silhouettes, the snow, clinging to outstretched organic tendrils, remains soft and innocent in the dying light.
I have an acute understanding of great songs being sat aside for the good of an album; somehow they don’t fit the rest of the material through no fault of their own. It is comforting to know Blackbraid will forge ahead with nothing left in the bank, the path ahead as fresh as the new dawn.
