Μνήμα (Mnima) / Ahulabrum - Split

Digging your own grave XIX: Oops, all noise! 

Truth be told, part of me dreaded reaching 2023 in the course of this series. Something about having to come off a year filled with landmark releases for Μνήμα’s career made it feel redundant, even if greener pastures lie further ahead. Industrious as our mastermind might be, it’s not hard to imagine that life, and the music that springs from the experiences therein, took its toll on the man behind the mask, and led to 2023 being a year where something, anything, had to be put out in order to keep the lights on, show that the project is still alive and kicking. Furthermore, it’s a year comprised exclusively of splits, which by and large I don’t find to be particularly impactful in the wider canon. But hey, a man’s gotta keep his word, and at least this here split with Ahulabrum makes for a neat novelty.

Now, Μνήμα’s always tended towards noise, but more often than not it served an auxiliary role in their sound, and even the band’s past collaborators were firmly in the (raw) black metal sphere. Ahulabrum breaks that mold by being an overt noise artist, who also gets the honour of being on the front end of the split. It’s an interesting choice, if nothing else, another artist hailing from the internet’s obscure depths coming to stand alongside a fellow recluse. Problem is, I’m not a noise guy. While I do respect the genre’s existence as a dare towards what lengths someone is willing to go to in justifying anything committed to tape as “music”, and on occasion spin Pulse Demon at a lower volume in order to empty my head out, it’s just not something I find much merit in when it’s absorbed in recorded form. Sure, there’s merit to the performative aspect of it when seeing it in person, but here? Not so much.

Further compounding this is the fact that most of Ahulabrum’s side just sounds like what someone who wants to make fun of the genre would do. Incoherence abounds on “The Corpse of Varginha”, where distorted static is joined by random clattering of chains and mic-in-mouth screaming (those who have seen recordings of improvised noise shows know what I’m talking about), and little else. It’s a noise piece alright, but what of it? “July 30th...” fares somewhat better by virtue of having some monotone clicks and thuds provide a pulse of sorts underneath the flittering drones, making it a little more “palatable”, although it remains much too brief to stand out in its own right.

Of interest are actually two tracks that seem to approximate actual music in “Sexual Abuse at the Hands of Absurd Humanoids” and “Globular Beings”. They both sound like someone threw a fast-and-nasty black metal song into the ricketiest blender you’ve used, and shockingly enough they turn out to be quite charming because of that. Malformed guitar melodies pan from one ear to the other on the former as something resembling a drum machine in dire need of a pacemaker goes haywire in the background. Add to that the aforementioned screaming, and you have something I could see myself coming back to when in need of something to clear my head out. The latter is quite straightforward in its approach, running a handful of riffs and some primal, sloppy, blasting to the ground, progressively falling apart at the seams by the halfway point, giving way to a distorted interview sample. Now, obviously neither track is a paragon of compositional excellence, but at least there is a semblance of musicality that allows them to latch on your memory better than the other three compositions. Damn shame noise is by definition at odds with the concept.

As for Μνήμα, they are walking down well-trodden paths by their standards, this time veiled by a noisy shroud that I am quite glad has made a return. Their side only contains two tracks, they are patient in how they unfurl them, as “Clocks” plays around with shapeless facsimiles of tremolo passages and chords for a good chunk of its runtime, dour and harrowing in equal measure. Even then, our mastermind goes through great pains to obscure said emotions, either through the aforementioned busted production, or by way of vomiting out whichever vocalisation feels more disquieting in that particular moment. While it’s expected that the chaos would increase as percussive elements were introduced, it’s not done by way of note density, but by the fact that the cymbals sound like knives being struck against stones, a sharp sound that rings out in a way that bleeds into the next hit. It’s unfortunate that these things don’t quite build to something greater, as the clock’s ticking found later on feels vacuous without anything to connect it to thematically, and what would under different circumstances have been a maddening climax in any other Μνήμα song here feels like hapless flailing about.

Thankfully “Catacombs of Neverending Misery” brings things into sharper focus with its more measured pace and transitions, as it slavishly drags itself forth in a dirge, gradually deconstructing and contorting its motifs, all while employing some vile retching and screaming to blindside the listener. Again, it’s not groundbreaking when looking back at what Μνήμα had done up to that point, but it makes for a successful attempt at slaking the thirst of anyone wishing to see Μνήμα incorporating noise within the black metal superstructure in a more involved way, or at the very least having it superimposed on a good song.

Ultimately, this one is a definite footnote in Μνήμα’s career, ostensibly for the noise aficionados rather than the black metal freaks. Given that I fall firmly into the latter category, I cannot quite judge it on its merits as a noise piece, but more so on whether I find it particularly pleasant to listen to, which as you might be able to guess isn’t the case. There’s flashes of relative quality, but I am ultimately let down by both sides, a real shame given Μνήμα’s consistency in bringing the goods when it comes to splits. Sucks to say, but this is the one release I find to be skippable in their discography. So it goes.

Ahulabrum highlight: Sexual Abuse at the Hands of Absurd Humanoids

Μνήμα highlight: Catacombs of Neverending Misery

Rating: 40%