Review Summary: Ukrainian husband and wife black metal duo enter uncharted waters with shared vocal duties.
Predictable marital bliss/who-wears-the-trousers jokes aside, it was about time Khlyst stepped up to the mic. For this unique Ukrainian entity's English-speaking (or just non-Russian-speaking) audience, much of Khlyst's 'Black Propaganda' is lost in translation and we're left to guess as to what unspeakable horrors he conjures up for his wife to roar at us. One hoped that, unintelligible lyrics and terrifyingly-unrelenting drum programming aside, Khlyst was capable of more. Not that his wife, Stabaath, wasn't enough already with her witchy-screams, ghoulish-croaks and dismembered, lurching guitar assaults, oh no, she's been carrying the whole outfit for the last eight LPs. But what about hubby?
As an original member of the founding lineup from 1995, contributing nothing more than lyrics (and drum programming from 2008) over the course of 20 years, his role appeared to be much more about the bigger picture: the label, the emergence from mere Dub Buk-a-likes into the fiendishly original, prolific and raw beast Lucifugum is today.
What with Stabaath's voice suffering (does she sound weaker on track 1?), Mr Lucifugum has stepped into the breach to take over most of the vocal duties. The result, I believe, is somewhat controversial and bound to be a subject of debate. I like his vocals but I'm not 100% sure why.
So, предубеждений жнец ('Prejudice Reaper', my translation), introduces Khlyst's low, guttural voice to the mix. Short stabs of throaty grunts are offset against trilling, gargling shrieks as he burbles along to the guitar, briefly in time, giving a definitely unhuman, if unspectacular impression. On previous albums Stabaath's vocals were full of character and energy, while Khlyst's presence is a sonic commentary, more like sound effects and zombie-brain narrative. The change is uncomfortable at first; we're not used to someone else over those signature riffs and it takes some warming. The couple alternate vocal duties for the first five tracks and one naturally latches onto Stabaath's voice more easily. However, after 'оноравливание', he's on his own.
The vocals tend toward wordless gurgles while, on 'llabu sn xel esis' , a low voice intones over the top providing a discomforting contrast. It's on this unsettling track that Stabaath really lets loose with her 'creative' (read: chaotic, unpredictable and noisy) guitar attack. Perhaps it numbs me now, but we mustn't forget what a challenging and unrelenting style Stabaath has created; riffs are fluid, deranged, complex, catchy but somehow never repetitive.
Khlyst's command of the mic takes a while to establish itself but, when it does, as on 'предназначение' ('Destination'), proceedings begin to sound a lot like the type of shuddering brutality heard on 'Od Omut Serpenti', their last and perhaps best album. That album gave the impression that Stabaath's riffs could somehow stand still long enough to be memorable (before then melting and morphing into something even more hideous), and this pulls the same trick but for the first time the new vocals don't jar -the shock has worn off -and now he's able to accompany the tracks more ably, confidently. The composition does eventually unravel, seemingly drawing to a conclusion but marching painfully on even when it's now unrecognisable from its original form, whatever that actually was.
While Stabaath's tracks are, as usual, high quality sufferings and undeniably the 'poison in your throat' which Lucifugum always promise, it's Igor who eventually steals the limelight. While his first lumberings at the mic are awkward and a weird change (Stabaath's a fine and enjoyable vocal presence, so it IS with regret that she isn't featured more) by the last three tracks the transformation is complete and a new, more terrifying version of Lucifugum is born. Those unsettling, watery wails and gravelly blurts are now part of the normal fabric, seeming to fit Stabaath's Medusa-headed guitar lines disturbingly well.
This success also raises the possibility of future dual-vocal action from the duo. While their formula was a sound one, and 'Od Omut Serpenti' the pinnacle of their style, I was beginning to wonder just just where they could take it next. If we can continue this fashion of alternating vocalists, I think Lucifugum mkII might just be in for a second (putrid) wind.
