Μνήμα (Mnima) - Possessed Templars Demo

Digging your own grave VI: New crypt, same smells. 

Between you and me, I never quite liked the mentality of “New year, new me”. Change is more often than not a gradual, and at times imperceptible, process, whose effects are not immediately apparent. Sometimes, you might even entrench yourself in old habits, instead of actually effecting change. Such is the case with Μνήμα’s first foray into the 2020s, where the Possessed Templars demo sees the now one-man unit play along to well-established tropes, instead of swerving off into different directions like it had done up to this point.

Don’t get it twisted though, this should not be misinterpreted as Μνήμα being uninspired, as for what it lacks in adventure, it makes up for in sheer thunder. While the tremolo riffing remains as infectious as ever, some of passages on “Vomitorous Desecration” are erratic in a way that we haven’t heard since the 2017 demo, messy chords jumping up and down the fretboard with the express purpose of disorienting the listener. This isn’t as atmospheric as what came before, despite there being an intro and outro piece. It’s nearly 7 minutes of noisy tremolos, and the closest thing you get to any breathing room is some weirdly uplifting melodies on the back half of the song that ever so slightly betray the band’s Hellenic roots. As much as I enjoy the band’s work for its atmospheric qualities, seeing them lean harder into writing riffs that bang is always a pleasure, although I can’t help but wonder whether they’d be able to pull off a perfect balance between these two aspects of their sound.

Said riffs nevertheless are as much defined by their texture as they are by their notation, and “Demonic Chapel of Rituals” is a perfect example of that, as it briefly one of its buzzing riffs exist without any peripheral backing, morosely filling up ambient space before the other instruments drop back in. It’s a simple trick, but when the pace is as relentless as this, it helps a lot to break things up, especially when the drumming is so messy. While technically tight, it’s riddled with fills that give the impression that things are falling in and out of meter, its restless nature further exacerbated by the roughshod production, which turns the kit into a cacophony of cymbals and toms that bends the rest of the music to its will. The involved drumming has always been one of the things that made Μνήμα stand out, and I’m pleased to say that this  trend continues on this release.

There’s also the intro and outro tracks, and they serve as neat little pieces that set the mood, “Sepulchral Molestation” even featuring the out-of-nowhere rasping and coughing I’ve come to associate with the band near the end of a song. The title track though is where it’s really at for me, especially in conjunction with the demo’s cover, strange as it might seem. It’s a small shrine filled with Orthodox icons and candles, and it’s the first time Μνήμα uses this type of imagery in their work, something that would become more and more prevalent, if only in an abstracted manner. It evokes a certain devoutness whose intentions are unclear, especially when paired with the intro. The jubilant bells are paired with a priest’s chanting, creating a dingy, yet pleasant, feeling that slowly gets overtaken by the guitars and the vocals being vomited forth. While it does feel subversive at a glance, it’s hard to exact a particular meaning out of this, as there are no lyrics to go off on, making this all the more mystifying than outright stating whether this is an overt subversion of Orthodox aesthetics or not.

Last, but certainly not least, we have the vocals, now handled by our unknown mastermind in the wake of X.’s departure from the band. Although Μνήμα’s never been about the vocals, or creating hooks through them, they are as chaotic as they’ve ever been, even if they’re to an extent lacking the excessively high-pitched shrieks the latter brought to the fold. Their lower tone, coupled with the somewhat raspier delivery are still appropriately scratchy and hard on the ears, and as such I cannot really find much wrong with them. 

Ultimately, Possessed Templars is less an evolutionary step and more of a recalibration. It doesn’t do anything that we’d consider all that novel for the band itself, or black metal at large, but it’s played with conviction and vigour, and it hearkens back to Μνήμα’s more ferocious beginnings, which played second fiddle to their desire to experiment as time went on. In retrospect, this demo, simple as it might be, meant that Μνήμα was here to stay, and would continue doling out its punishing brand of black metal regardless of how many individuals were behind the project at any given time. It’s not often that I am happy upon hearing a band regress sonically, but it’s hard not to be pleased when it’s done this well.

Highlight: Vomitorous Desecration

Rating: 80%