Review Summary: Love me some Allegro by Satan's little quintet.
Ah, that three-stage assault on the throne of Brutal TDM Heaven by an alliance between hyperbolical Suffocation worship and the cerebrality of classical composition: with
Cabinet (2003) as the first formidable outing,
Noctambulant (2006) the unattainable masterpiece of deranged darkness, and
Incurso (2012) the baroque consolidation of all evil intricacies hitherto conceived! Such is the stuff legends are made of, and if ever Satan needed his own chamber orchestra to put his twisted plots to symphony, Spawn of Possession would surely be among the first solicited.
So now we have Retromorphosis, with
Psalmus Mortis. Are we faced with, as etymology would have it, a "change in shape accompanying a degenerative transition from a higher to a lower, less differentiated state or structure"? A discontinuation it is certainly not, let alone a slate wiped clean. But neither can we speak of degraded continuation. This is a palimpsest, and a rather interesting one.
From the outset, it is undeniable how technicality and complexity post-SoP have been taken down several notches on Retromorphosis' debut, while it is equally clear how the overall signature is still that of main SoP composer/riffer Jonas Bryssling. At the same time, one readily notices that the centre of creative gravity has tilted towards musical storytelling - for that it is, in each song from first to last, combining the mastermind's love for old school death metal, classical music and horror movies - with more accessible structures, progressions, themes, riffs and atmospherics, thus making tracks and the album as a whole graspable and enjoyable in more immediate ways, rather than leaving it to the otherwise oft-dumbstruck listener to puzzle his way through an opaque maze of compositional and technical ingenuity.
This shift in focus, for me at least, accomplishes the opposite of watering down the songwriting quality or listening experience - if one insists on SoP's previous body of work as a reference point. Returning to the issue of technicality for that matter, as one processes the sensation of the album's more immediate tastiness and digestibility (effectuated by the judicious use of repetition and recurrence, catchy melodic themes and atmospheric background synths, among other things), the realization also sets in that its technical level of execution is, in fact, still ridiculously high. Tracks like “The Tree” and “Exalted Splendour”, for instance, may see the spastic frenzy of
Noctambulant turned down from 45 to 33 rpm, their power to stun and drop jaws is none the less for it.
The
Incurso crew (minus Henrik Schönström, plus KC Howard) are thus given another fleeting 42 minutes over eight tracks to display their instrumental mastery, while also remaining consistently faithful to the directive of 'plots over antics'. (It is pleasing to hear, incidentally, how Christian Muenzner’s leads tune in perfectly with the vibe of each song.) Production follows suit with a mix that is sufficiently grainy, balanced, and pleasing to the ear. In sum,
Psalmus Mortis maintains an open line with SoP’s legacy and back catalogue, while laying out new and tasty breadcrumb trails to future endeavours, eagerly anticipated by yours truly.
