Μνήμα (Mnima) - Forbidden Creatures of Time EP

Digging your own grave III: Dripping ichor. 

(Disclaimer: I will be skipping the individual releases of the Gathering Sorcery to the Eternal Portals of the Past EPs and will be treating the 2022 compilation as a full-length.) 

“Once is an accident; twice is a coincidence; three times is a pattern.” This paraphrasing of an Ian Fleming quote has been one that I’ve seen appear in my life time and time again. Actions originally deemed to be singular instances see themselves gradually turn into behaviours that define an entity. One such case is Μνήμα, the pattern in question being one of constant tweaking and experimentation with the basic raw black metal formula, which, while not always providing the most awe-inspiring results, has been a consistent source of interest for me. Every time I move on to another of the band’s releases it’s done with a mixture of apprehension and excitement as to what they’ll be doing, and 2019’s Forbidden Creatures of Time is no different in that respect.

The experiment in question here is two-fold, one partial and the other brand new. The partial one being the song’s length, and the new one is the additional bells and whistles they decided to add to the mix. Now, I know I jabbered a lot about the duration of short-form releases in this series thus far, but this is the last time I’ll be doing this, as Μνήμα hasn’t really done much with this particular aspect of their music from this point forward, with few exceptions that we’ll eventually get to. Nevertheless, seeing their first attempt at writing a singular composition that eclipses the 10-minute mark was enough to pique my curiosity.

The length ties to the other experiment, the dark ambient passages which appear throughout the track. These passages actually get to make an impact precisely because of the format’s imposed constraints, a single long composition really incentivising the duo to take their time setting a mood and maintaining it. You actually do get to feel a sense of dread build up whenever they come about, and it is especially effective at the start, where the sound of water dripping in a vast subterranean space gets to spend a minute setting the tone, effectively so might I add. It not only introduces us to the experience, but it actually persists through most of the black metal passages presented, albeit heavily obscured. It’s a rope for the listener, one that both grounds them amidst the chaos, but also slowly suffocates them by adding to the noise. There is also the forlorn sound of church bells halfway through the song, their brief appearance playing the dual role of oasis and promulgation as to what’s to come, as X.’s vocals are quick to drag you back in the maelstrom.

Speaking of X., although his voice remains unchanged, being just as unhinged and inarticulate as it’s ever been, he seems to be taking the backseat here, instead letting the rest of the music do the talking. It’s an approach I’m for the most part neutral towards, as I generally appreciate his contributions to the overall sound and atmosphere, even if he gets a touch overbearing at times. Μνήμα taking a more instrument-centric approach is always a treat, especially if the riffs bang, something that they’ve proved they’re more than capable of delivering on multiple occasions.

And the riffs here do bang plenty, albeit with a caveat: there’s only 3 of them. Now, you’ll look at the song’s duration, then back at this review and think: “What the fuck do you mean there’s only 3 riffs?”, and truth be told, that was my first reaction as well. The fact that these riffs aren’t as immediately sticky as those on The Remains of Human Bones made this all the harder to swallow. The almost swaying quality Μνήμα’s tremolo riffs tend to have is very much present, as well as the faintest trace of melody, but they’re not as immediately gripping as the ones on previous releases. If we were to take the amount of times I’ve listened to each of their releases thus far for this series, this one I’ve undoubtedly spent the most time with, simply because I felt like I was missing something amidst the noise.

Turns out, few as they might be, the riffs’ variation stems from the unnamed instrumentalist’s drumming, something I’ve noted in previous reviews as well. He does a lot to shift up the dynamics and momentum of these parts, especially since his range of motion is quite wide. The passage after the intro alone features two different beats, a straight blast and a half-time shuffle, and they help differentiate each of the music’s segments. Later on, there’s even some thrash beats, and that was also quite a surprise. I wouldn’t go so far as to call Μνήμα a drum-oriented band, but things truly come alive once you start looking at all the moving parts, rather than just what the guitar is doing.

Ultimately I find myself less taken with Forbidden Creatures of Time than I would like. It’s not a matter of the music itself being boring, if anything I liked picking it all apart, but these sections don’t amount to a coherent whole for me. Although the trick of ripping the calm away from the listener is also used here, I find myself less shocked by it when it’s done multiple times in the same song. Long-winded compositions such as these live and die by being greater than the sum of their parts, and unfortunately the whole of the experience did not grab me to the degree I wish it had. Even then, I wouldn’t call it an inessential release in the grander scheme of things, as it remains an important link in Μνήμα’s evolution, showcasing ideas that’d be elaborated on in the future. After all, isn’t experimentation what short-form releases are for?

Rating: 70%