Finally finished a review for Metal-Archives, gave it 40%. Not a terrible album at all, seemed much better than any Frost Like Ashes I've listened to, and I definitely see how Christians would get excited about it.
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it is important that Christians [be] present in every field, in every genre
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- Sygmoon (Morten Sigmund Magerøy), Screams Of Abel Issue 32
Mr. Magerøy, it must be noted, was not a participant in the recording of The Return Of The Black Death. But as an eventual member of Antestor his statement provides us a context through which to consider this piece. This expression of obligation is appropriate because that is what this album feels like: a band with a mission, a commitment, a duty that requires them to force themselves into the confines of a musical style that was not created for them. It was surely a challenging task, and the debated level of success gained raises questions that were perhaps answered by the band when they later moved away from the black metal sound why accept the conventions and restraints of a style so counterproductive in achieving the expression of a Christian message? Whether it was the missionary mentality that brought Antestor into secular extreme metal like Black Robes into Huron pre-Quebec or not, they were met with hostility and challenges befitting such a mindset. How successful was this expedition?
Keyboards are a strong presence, though rarely overwhelming. The album does not approach the cheap gaudiness of the average symphonic black metal atmosphere; restrained production keeps the various elements at a comfortable distance. The recording's main harsh element is the vocal approach, as the typically abrasive black metal tremolo riffing though present is usually buried within the underlying ambience to varying extents. Essentially the sonic outlook of this album is grey with occasional glimpses of bittersweet hope shining through the clouds. The vocals provide a contrast to the rest of this soundscape that is not atypical in black metal, although the relatively easily decipherable lyrics enhance the difference and make it less natural, even awkward. It is not hard to imagine that if you were to replace the vocals with clean ones you would have a subdued Christian doom album, probably one far more coherent than what exists here. At moments, such as large sections of the tastefully meditative "Sorg", we are given glimpses at what might have been were the band to be free of an apparent obligation to insert the black metal vocal convention throughout their work.
The previously described atmosphere, when pushed aside, reveals a collection of content that is noticeably uneven. The somber doom passages of "Sorg", the nearly uplifting praise vibe of "A Sovereign Fortress", and the weirdly mechanical moments of "The Bridge of Death", though consistently bathed in dreary hues create an odd and disconnected greater picture. While an array of experimental and wide ranging music can certainly be blended into a unified vision on one album, here the explorations aren't particularly experimental and often defy explanation variety for variety's sake, or the simple byproduct of writing a bunch of songs without a master plan. Whatever the approach, it results in each song standing apart from the others but creates a disjointed listening experience that obscures any greater meaning. Attention to album structure is apparent only in the most pragmatic sense there are intros and outros, of course. And the late appearance of a standard rising action/climax/dénouement trilogy consisting of tracks eight through ten help strengthen the album as a unified force, but this is after we have been wandering aimlessly for the better portion of the running time.
Let all my traducers be shamed and dishonoured
Let all who seek my hurt be covered with scorn
It would be unfair to focus on the occasional byproducts of the band's ESL status that appear in the lyrics, instead here a typical passage illustrates the religious nature of this album's tone Antestor doesn't take action, they pray for God to do it for them. When they do take action (they did make this audio proselytization effort, of course) it is with His permission and guidance. A role reversal of your typical Satan-inspired black metal call to arms, perhaps, although Antestor never seem to realize the irony. And there is plenty of that one gets the impression that these are the type of folks who heard "One Rode To Asa Bay" and remarked at what an uplifting story was being told. As those pagan temples were converted into Christian churches, so we have Scandinavian folk incorporated here into songs about Vikings being guided by the light of Christ ("Svartedauens Gjenkomst"). This unique set of juxtapositions is sure to amuse and probably offend some, and it's a shame that this reaction, though surely anticipated, is never capitalized upon. This could be a blistering assault on metalized and romanticized ideals of pre-Christian Europe, if they were to use this music (both folk and black) in a malicious fashion but it is understandable that they went a different route, as these don't appear to be Christians of the fire-and-brimstone variety. Instead of parody we get the worst kind of irony, the unintended and unacknowledged kind that comes of as self-destructively naïve.
Vocalist Martyr is appropriately pseudonymed, he sounds strained and sorrowful. But there isn't much in the way of suffering on this album, not nearly as much as the vocal tone would suggest and when the suffering abates, a strange disparity between message and delivery is created. Songs of praise become songs become emotional cries of prayer, which is effective in a certain way, as is the expression of regret in "The Bridge Of Death." But when the tone doesn't change for the battle cries of "Kongsblod", the issue arises: is this supposed to express never ending tears for Jesus, or do we just have a case where whatever the vocalist's standard black metal screech sounds like is deemed proper for all occasions? When "Jesus you fought the battle for me / Help me to see that you set me free" is delivered with a tone identical to that of "We are God's servants / Armed for war", it would be expected that the musical accompaniment would give us a hint as to the mood. But the overall tone doesn't fluctuate greatly; this is a record where aggression is absent, where triumph and defeat, submission and regret are given a uniform coat of melancholy drab.
Following the climax of the "Kongsblod"/"Battlefield" victory of the Christian army, the falling action of "Ancient Prophecy" is an anomaly worthy of study on its own. Something of a reserved gothic dirge, it is atmospherically as strong as this album gets, and tasteful if not ambitious. Conceptually it is puzzling, offering a collection of philosophical paradoxes in the popular Christian "the last shall be first" style. These droning passages are bracketed by something far more unexpected a number of favourite quotes from Ridley Scott's 1982 seminal future noir film Blade Runner. Fans of that work will recall the echoing final lines of Edward James Olmos' character: "It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?" These and other lines are paraphrased here, in an apparent attempt to form a powerful Christian narrative for the album's finale. It's easy to presume plagiarism, as when the context of the film is considered the message here doesn't make much sense. Here, meeting the Christian maker face to face for judgment is portrayed as an inescapable consequence. Yet when Rutger Hauer's replicant character meets his maker he is hardly humbled he gouges the weak old man's eyes out and leaves him to die.
This band was on a mission on this album, and if the evangelization of black metal wasn't too great a feat, why not Christianize Blade Runner while they're here? One more layer of cognitive dissonance isn't going to hurt.