There’s a darkness all around us, we just don’t always see
it. By darkness, I refer to evil…dark and dastardly emotions and intents. Some
of us can sense that darkness before we actually see it, we feel the hairs on
the backs of our necks stand up, we feel something ominous, but can’t quite
grasp it. We either recoil in fear, or we reach out towards it and embrace it
for all it’s worth. Fear is often said to simply be the lack of understanding,
and that once we understand that which we fear, that emotion will eventually
fade away. Could be why I gravitate towards the dark arts…the sounds of
desperation…the images of the grotesque and diabolical. Facing my fears by
trying to understand what I fear the most. Tom G. Warrior states in the liner
notes for the song “Boleskine House”, “Repulsion may rival fascination; perhaps
they may even become one in the same.”
Melana Chasmata is
repulsive and immensely fascinating.
I never try to get too deep into the artists intent, at
least, when it comes to me reviewing it. I can only make assumptions based on
my interpretations of said art. What I get from this Triptykon disc is that fascination with the darkness within the
human race, the fallibility of the human condition and, ultimately, a long hard
stare at the darkness within. As to be expected from one of the godfathers of
the black and death metal movements, Tom G. Warrior and company have crafted an
album that is all sorts of bubbling blackness. The music is heavy, the tones
are dark, the lyrics brooding and spit out with a tortured tongue.
If y’all are familiar with the last Celtic Frost album, Monotheist,
you’ll understand better where Triptykon
is coming from. If you’re not familiar, try to imagine those fantastic medieval
paintings of pilgrims being disemboweled and heretics having their flesh torn
from their bodies all set to music. Or, better yet, take the quasi-sci-fi soul
shivering artistic touch of H.R. Giger and apply it to those same medieval
paintings. It’s a frightening thought. It’s a frightening sound.
But not all of Melana
Chasmata is bathed in absolute blackness. Warrior and crew bring in these
wondrous moments of shadow to break up the blackness. They never actually turn
on the lights, but more akin to lighting a single candle in the far away
reaches of a catacomb, letting the distant light dance across the walls to
momentarily let us see that we’re actually trapped in a chamber of desolation
and despair. The aforementioned “Boleskine House” accomplishes this with its
sparse intro, grinding bass lines and clean toned arpeggios…all drenched in brooding
darkness. Then the accompanying vocal harmonies of Simone Vollenweider provides
the moment of illumination that, at first, gives us hope…until we recognize
our surroundings and realize that the impenetrable darkness wasn’t the worst
thing about our surroundings.
While most of the songs on this album are slow, plodding
grinders, Triptykon open things up
considerably with “Breathing”. High speed and intensely immediate, this song
breaks up the pace of the disc. However, that prevailing darkened theme never
wavers. Check out the break in the middle of this bitch! It harkens back to the
early days of Celtic Frost with a
full body freak out ensuing as the band drop into a classic thrash riff. The
band masters the art of tempo change throughout this track…wait until you get
to the end and they drop the tempo down once again. Tom G. Warrior has always
had a distinctive voice, and all the drama that we’ve come to know and love
with the man is on display on this track, all the way down to his trademarks “Oooh’s”
and “Ugh’s”.
“Aurorae” is amazing as the band takes its time layering
texture after texture over a droning distorted guitar line. Beautiful clean
arpeggios mix with the low end bass rumble, borrowing a page from the darkened
atmospheric work of Neurosis, yet
branding it with the Triptykon
stamp. Just sit back and revel in the masterful job these guys have done in
building this song to its climax…the tension that continually builds until we
get that sweet relief as the guitars feedback to close.
The whole album has a gothic, industrial undertone to the
menacing evil oppressive tones that carry the album. I’ve never had the chance
to study the first Triptykon album,
but if it’s anything like Melana Chasmata,
then it’s gotta be a gem. It’s hard to explain in words what makes this album
so compelling. It’s a situation where if I had y’all here while I was spinning
the disc, I would just point at the record for an hour, mutely miming some
gesture to get y’all to pay attention to the awesomeness that is. If you like Celtic Frost and Neurosis, have a fascination with why we cringe at the morbidity
of death, yet still stand and stare as the wild dogs of society tear apart the
meat of the innocent…then Melana
Chasmata is the record for you. I love it, I’m fascinated by it, and
mostly, I’m inspired by it. Thanks, Tom…I appreciate the journey out of my
comfort zone and looking at the blackened recesses of my soul. I feel better
now.
- Pope
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