Denial of God, Death and the Beyond (2012)

Tracklist:

1. Veni Spiritus
2. Funeral
3. Behind the Coffin’s Lid
4. The Cursed Chamber
5. Bones turn to Dust
6. Black Dethe
7. Spectral Lights
8. Pendulum Swings

Denial of God are the sort of band metal fans should know about, but probably won’t.  These Danish golden oldies were founded in 1991, coming through with the first waves of European black metal, and have since released a massive amount of material.  But their faith in the traditional black metal approach means they remain obscure.  Now a three-piece outfit, Denial of God have set themselves up as a hardcore, uncensored, unrestrained, and roughly-cut slab of musical brimstone.  Their official homepage testifies to this approach, set up in the style of a 1990s DIY hammer-horror set.  And while Death and the Beyond may be the band’s sixteenth release, astonishingly it’s only their second full-length album: all the rest are EPs and demos.  In a commercialised world of tightly-strung, former black metal heretics, the old school is very much undead and kicking.  And Denial of God is in its vanguard.

As the title suggests, this record is an examination of human mortality and it’s aftermath.  And, as it goes, it will undoubtedly be considered a traditional black metal album.  Raw, unprocessed sounds pump out incessantly.  Grated guitars, cold and relentless, behind demonic vocals, all underpinned by drums which flail like the wings of an angel caught on barbed wire…  You get the picture.  There’s more than enough in this to summon the satanic slobber of black metal die-hards.  But Denial of God have made some effort to diversify their music, bringing some clearer sounds into the equation through acoustic guitars, pianos, and the occasional violin.

It in these little diversions that the band are best able to illustrate their understandings of death “and the beyond”.  Opening the album, the simple pianos and understated choral effects of Veni Spiritus provide a deep and sinister setting for a poetic summoning of dark spirits.  Further satisfying innovations follow.  In track 4, The Cursed Chamber, an ode to the (un)dead pharaohs of Egypt, thrashing drums and guitars peter out to echoing acoustic picking, between the thunderous footfalls of the king’s spirit legions, to the warning “Defile my grave and you/Pay the price…”  The same whispering growls play out following track, the stripped back, toned down Bones turn to Dust.  Peering through the dark, you can almost make out the demonic phantoms in the shadows.

But only almost.  Because if you look too closely, you’re more likely to see three Danes in a studio struggling to summon sufficient originality to hold their record together.  For an album underpinned by such an orthodox theme as death, there is very little new or innovative about Death and the Beyond.  Lyrical descriptions rarely reach beyond the old dichotomy of beauty and disgust, resting on the formulaic paradox, death=eternal peace/death=destruction.  So much so, that, in Bones turn to Dust, there are descriptions of death which could have come from almost any band from the gothic, death, or black metal scenes.  Giving a nod to the beauty of deathly peace, “wrapped in velvet like a wedding gown”; cue the harsh reality of bodily decomposition, “a feast for worms is all that will be”.  Often, the struggle for deeper meaning pushes lyrics from the realm of the dubious to the outright absurd.  Whatever its intended purpose, Veni Spiritus, featuring the lines “Inside the mansion the doors are unlocked/Yet some of the guests can never leave” is quicker to summon the spirit of a gothic Hotel California than an ethereal Transylvania.  And, by The Cursed Chamber, a misguided faith in the potency of ancient Egyptian symbolism threatens to push the lyrically absurd into the outright ridiculous: “Oh, Amun Ra/Oh, god of gods.”  Oh, get a grip.

Such intriguing interludes, were they consistently high quality, could just have provided the relief needed for the oppressive darkness of raw black metal to be moulded into an album of genuine substance.  Too often, they don’t.  And, in any case cut to a minimum, these parts continually revert to the comforting coldness of the genre.  This, inevitably, highlights its weaknesses.  Endless thrashing and one-dimensional rhythms of drums and guitars prevent much musical development.  Melodies are, in particular, often held back by being tied to the simplistic rhythmic structures of the harmony, transforming the growl of the guitars into just another buzz in a storm of noise.  In this environment, there’s little room to manoeuvre, and when track 3, Behind the Coffin’s Lid, attempts to mix things up with a major-tonality harmony and melody to match, the music degenerates into tinbox-style nonsense.    More generally, the music is unable to raise its intensity, with the only answer to the need for drama and crescendo being a reversion back into a stream of regular, dull hammering.  With all songs (instrumentals excepted) lasting from 6½ to 15 minutes, none of this provides justification for their length.

All in all, this is an album that promises much.  And there are occasions when it threatens to deliver.  Restoring black metal to its full, gut-wrenching glory, its authors certainly remain true to their heritage, and there are at least some elements – interesting, sinister, and classic – which deserve praise.  But they’re all too few, and far too far between.  If the price of orthodoxy is musical mediocrity, I’ll be happy to accept heresy.  Denial of God clearly aren’t a band to agree with that sentiment.  And their resulting approach is unlikely to have furthered their musical profile.  But then I hardly imagine they’re too disappointed by that.

Production: 3/5

Lyrics: 3/5

Album Cohesion: 3/5

Music: 4/10

Percentage Score: 52/100

http://www.denialofgod.net/

REVIEW ORIGINALLY WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED FOR DESTRUCTIVE-MUSIC WEBSITE BY SCROOGLES: http://destructive-music.com/