Klanen / Μνήμα (Mnima) / Celestial Sword / The Oracle - 4-way Split
Digging your own grave XIV: Not-so-fatal 4-way.
Splits are a weird format to cover. For one, their length can range anywhere from being bite-sized EPs to full-bodied albums. Furthermore, they don’t exactly cohere a lot, besides the bands present usually having a common genre between them . And last, but certainly not least, you rarely get a clear view of each artist’s vision through however many tracks they are allotted during the split’s runtime. Nevertheless, their purpose as a means of connecting for artists and music discovery for listeners cannot be understated, especially if appropriate care is placed in who’s collaborating with whom. While I’ve only covered one split of theirs thus far (and listened to the rest in the interim), Μνήμα has proven to be quite prudent in choosing who they’re sharing space with, at the very least ensuring that the release makes sense on a sonic level. This particular 4-way split is no different on that front, although it has to be said that the quality and excitement each track contains is a bit more mixed than I’d like.
Klanen’s the band to kick things off, and it’s actually my second favourite track presented here, albeit with a few caveats. For one, it’s a definite grower, my first few listens being accompanied by an “oh, this is fine”, the US-styled melodicism and low riff count not doing much to excite me. Over time though, I came to appreciate the way the opening motif was reinterpreted from one riff to the next, especially in conjunction with the slightly punky drumming that runs underneath it all. The brief acoustic reprise of the opening that breaks things up a little is a definite highlight, but it comes after the point the song has started to outstay its welcome. Fun as it is, it could stand to lose a minute or two.
Of the four bands, our main attraction, Μνήμα, actually gets the most time to shine, though regrettably enough 3 minutes are spent in a rather plain, albeit surprisingly melodic by the band’s standards, introduction. It doesn’t really do much to set up “Reliquary of Grief and Loss”, nor do its two riffs have the strength to make it anything other than a diversion. They do soar a surprising amount by Μνήμα’s standards, and we get some tupa-tupa beats on the drums, but that’s about it.
Thankfully though, “Reliquary of Grief and Loss” kicks ass from the get-go. Although I came into this not expecting much after the disappointment experienced in the tracks presented on the Spider God split, Μνήμα actually drops one of their wackiest and densest compositions ever. I’ve always believed they excelled whenever they wrote longer songs instead of the vignettes we saw on that release, and they proved me right here. Their trademark riffs are jerkier than ever, wildly flailing around instead of wavering, and the riff-per-minute ratio is off the fucking charts, the first movement of the piece alone contains a minimum of 4 bangers, each more disorienting than the last.
Given that we’re talking about Μνήμα, everything about the music is scrappy, yet at the same time calculated, from the on-a-dime tempo shifts to the choked vocalisations. The aforementioned first movement plays around with piercing and earthy tones in equal measure in its riffing, and it’s bookended by one of those delightful guitar-only passages that teeter between being a riff and ambient noise. I’ve mentioned that the band tends to iterate upon ideas throughout their oeuvre, but it’s not often that you get to see just about all of them coalesce on a single track, let alone as cohesively as it's done here. There’s even a punk riff that almost sounds jolly in comparison to the surrounding grimness, and its gonzo nature somehow makes it slot right in, further amplified by the moaned vocals that slither in the background. Really, the only thing I have to complain about with this track is that it’s stuck in an otherwise mixed split, stuff like the mournful guitar lead near its end genuinely deserved to be heard in a release that was 100% theirs.
As for the second half, it's an even divide between good old-fashioned boredom, and novelty. On one side of the coin we have Celestial Sword’s three-part “Gardens of Wallachia” suite, which kicks off by messing around with a movie sample and some “I started listening to dungeon synth the other week” embellishments. There’s better ways to conjure up a “Wampyric rituals under the Transylvanian moon” type of atmosphere, and they do achieve that later on in the song by interlacing discreet piano motifs and ghoulish croaking into the brooding slow riffs that dominate the midsection. It’s a mystery why they decided to focus so much on straight tremolo blasting when their most engaging moments are the ones that manage to create a sense of space in their slowness. There’s an emphasis on palm-muted riffs during the slow sections, and I really dig the blown-out tone they have, their discreet deployment throughout key moments helps them stand out, especially when Narkisa plays around with syncopation, both on the strings and the drums.
Last, but certainly not least, there’s “Nephelim”, courtesy of The Oracle. To my surprise, it’s an ambient song, one that spends its two halves developing two different, but ultimately coherent, moods. The first half is equal parts futuristic and naturalistic, combining muffled voices with spacey synth drones, and the sounds of birds in the distance. As we move further in though, that veneer gives way to pure mystical naturalism, clean textures abound, gentle guitar notes plucking away in the distance. It’s quite serene, and it finds itself at odds with what was a very coherent and intense experience up to that point. I’m all for subverting expectations, but it needs to be done with respect to the artistic vision as a whole. “Nephelim” doesn’t quite achieve that, and even then it ends up undermining the peace it conjures up with some bright, but also garish and misplaced guitar strums that break up the monotony presented here.
For better or worse, I find myself feeling quite mixed about this particular split, but this time around I cannot lay the blame at Μνήμα’s feet. If anything, they actually restored some of my confidence in them in regards to their brushes with the format, all while having me question their judgment in regards to choosing whom they’ll share a release with. On one hand, three quarters of this release cohere nicely, but on the other, I can’t help but feel like they just danced circles around them, their contribution far outshining the others. Whereas the first time around they’d paired themselves up with someone whose music was equal parts novel and well-composed, here they are surrounded by bands who frankly, I don’t think are at their level. While it’s to be expected that one will find themselves resonating with some artists over others in a split, there should at least be *some* degree of competition, you know?
Highlight: Reliquary of Grief and Loss
Klanen’s the band to kick things off, and it’s actually my second favourite track presented here, albeit with a few caveats. For one, it’s a definite grower, my first few listens being accompanied by an “oh, this is fine”, the US-styled melodicism and low riff count not doing much to excite me. Over time though, I came to appreciate the way the opening motif was reinterpreted from one riff to the next, especially in conjunction with the slightly punky drumming that runs underneath it all. The brief acoustic reprise of the opening that breaks things up a little is a definite highlight, but it comes after the point the song has started to outstay its welcome. Fun as it is, it could stand to lose a minute or two.
Of the four bands, our main attraction, Μνήμα, actually gets the most time to shine, though regrettably enough 3 minutes are spent in a rather plain, albeit surprisingly melodic by the band’s standards, introduction. It doesn’t really do much to set up “Reliquary of Grief and Loss”, nor do its two riffs have the strength to make it anything other than a diversion. They do soar a surprising amount by Μνήμα’s standards, and we get some tupa-tupa beats on the drums, but that’s about it.
Thankfully though, “Reliquary of Grief and Loss” kicks ass from the get-go. Although I came into this not expecting much after the disappointment experienced in the tracks presented on the Spider God split, Μνήμα actually drops one of their wackiest and densest compositions ever. I’ve always believed they excelled whenever they wrote longer songs instead of the vignettes we saw on that release, and they proved me right here. Their trademark riffs are jerkier than ever, wildly flailing around instead of wavering, and the riff-per-minute ratio is off the fucking charts, the first movement of the piece alone contains a minimum of 4 bangers, each more disorienting than the last.
Given that we’re talking about Μνήμα, everything about the music is scrappy, yet at the same time calculated, from the on-a-dime tempo shifts to the choked vocalisations. The aforementioned first movement plays around with piercing and earthy tones in equal measure in its riffing, and it’s bookended by one of those delightful guitar-only passages that teeter between being a riff and ambient noise. I’ve mentioned that the band tends to iterate upon ideas throughout their oeuvre, but it’s not often that you get to see just about all of them coalesce on a single track, let alone as cohesively as it's done here. There’s even a punk riff that almost sounds jolly in comparison to the surrounding grimness, and its gonzo nature somehow makes it slot right in, further amplified by the moaned vocals that slither in the background. Really, the only thing I have to complain about with this track is that it’s stuck in an otherwise mixed split, stuff like the mournful guitar lead near its end genuinely deserved to be heard in a release that was 100% theirs.
As for the second half, it's an even divide between good old-fashioned boredom, and novelty. On one side of the coin we have Celestial Sword’s three-part “Gardens of Wallachia” suite, which kicks off by messing around with a movie sample and some “I started listening to dungeon synth the other week” embellishments. There’s better ways to conjure up a “Wampyric rituals under the Transylvanian moon” type of atmosphere, and they do achieve that later on in the song by interlacing discreet piano motifs and ghoulish croaking into the brooding slow riffs that dominate the midsection. It’s a mystery why they decided to focus so much on straight tremolo blasting when their most engaging moments are the ones that manage to create a sense of space in their slowness. There’s an emphasis on palm-muted riffs during the slow sections, and I really dig the blown-out tone they have, their discreet deployment throughout key moments helps them stand out, especially when Narkisa plays around with syncopation, both on the strings and the drums.
Last, but certainly not least, there’s “Nephelim”, courtesy of The Oracle. To my surprise, it’s an ambient song, one that spends its two halves developing two different, but ultimately coherent, moods. The first half is equal parts futuristic and naturalistic, combining muffled voices with spacey synth drones, and the sounds of birds in the distance. As we move further in though, that veneer gives way to pure mystical naturalism, clean textures abound, gentle guitar notes plucking away in the distance. It’s quite serene, and it finds itself at odds with what was a very coherent and intense experience up to that point. I’m all for subverting expectations, but it needs to be done with respect to the artistic vision as a whole. “Nephelim” doesn’t quite achieve that, and even then it ends up undermining the peace it conjures up with some bright, but also garish and misplaced guitar strums that break up the monotony presented here.
For better or worse, I find myself feeling quite mixed about this particular split, but this time around I cannot lay the blame at Μνήμα’s feet. If anything, they actually restored some of my confidence in them in regards to their brushes with the format, all while having me question their judgment in regards to choosing whom they’ll share a release with. On one hand, three quarters of this release cohere nicely, but on the other, I can’t help but feel like they just danced circles around them, their contribution far outshining the others. Whereas the first time around they’d paired themselves up with someone whose music was equal parts novel and well-composed, here they are surrounded by bands who frankly, I don’t think are at their level. While it’s to be expected that one will find themselves resonating with some artists over others in a split, there should at least be *some* degree of competition, you know?
Highlight: Reliquary of Grief and Loss
Rating: 55%
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