Jumalhämärä - Songless Shores EP (2014)

After taking quite an eclectic detour with their 2013 organ music effort Resitaali, which I might add was quite good, Finland's artsy, Bizarro world black metallers Jumalhämärä return to a heavier, semi-familiar terrain with but a single, extensive 17-minute opus entitled Songless Shores. Right from the start, before you've even begun to listen through this, they've got you wondering with that excellent, completely abstract cover artwork that is almost impossible not to stare at; and to little surprise, the music has the same effect. Okay, your ears can't necessarily 'stare' (at least I hope not), but if they could, they would not be able to avert their gaze from this song, which is both tremendous and completely off the wall. That is what Jumalhämärä does, what they will continue to do, and you can either lay back with a surreal set of shades and enjoy the experience, or fuck right off.

That's not to say that Songless Shores isn't so bonkers that it often devolves into a disheveled, disjointed wreck, but it's a beautiful mess and not one to take for granted when one is so often bombarded with the predictable and traditional. What sounds like a cacophony of chiming clocks builds up into a swell of roiling tremolo picked guitars, swerving bass line bombast, wretched growl/rasps and groovy drums which feel more appropriate for a prog rock record. Admittedly, the beats seam a little smothered in the mix, to the point that they become disparate from the thinner, droning guitar lines, but the way all these fragments come together feels like someone writing shoegaze music while taking a lot of prescription meds and staring at a Dali painting. The tune calms near the center, with some folksy strings and native instruments that seem like you're a few streets away from a festive urban center on a peaceful eve, until it transitions into a distorted, unnerving landscape of ambiance and semi-industrial clatter, ominous choir harmonies and then ultimately the sound of some running water and some male chants that drift into closure...

I was half expecting the thing to cycle back into some metallic augmentations, but can't say I'm dissatisfied with this sort of linear, adventurous songwriting. Point A gave me absolutely no warning whatsoever of where I'd be ending up at Point B, and it was like watching a fresh-to-my-eyes, but antiquated art film at college. Granted, not all of the forward motions through various genres wind up as the smoothest mutations, and the experimental nature of Songless Shores seems to be worn proudly on the sleeve, but ultimately you just have to be grateful there are bands like this unafraid to take a piss on convention and search themselves through a plethora of unusual aural environments. The lyrics to this were great, they definitely seemed to have a more folk/historical theme to them, which I also felt through the sheer musical output of Resitaali, but as an outsider I wasn't able to completely decipher their cultural significance (my own shortcoming). Still, this is not a hindrance for me, because if anything, the track becomes even more enigmatic and obscure. At any rate, I have never disliked anything I've heard from these Finns, and though this was a little less fulfilling than their 2010 full-length Resignaatio, they continue to stand alongside their other band Mörkö and the slightly more accessible Oranssi Pazuzu at the leading edge of psychedelic black metal from that part of the world.

Verdict: Win [8/10] (remember to flog your children properly)

Jumalhämärä - Resitaali (2013)

When intoning Jumalhämärä's name aloud in ignorant English, it really sounds like something you might step in and/or get stuck in. Amusingly, that could not be a more fitting comparison for the Finns' unorthodox, unexpected twist on the conservative black metal formulae that they obviously took a left turn from some time ago. But even having been apprised of the band's tactics on their excellent 2010 full-length Resignaatio, I would not have been prepared for the shocking turn they've taken on their latest material. For, you see, Resitaali is not even remotely metallic by any definition of the...alright, the harmonium pump organ on which it was performed does involve some metal components, but this represents a reduction of aesthetics, a spiritual departure and a minimalist stamp of experimentation that seems left field even taking into account how bizarre the Finns had come across on the older releases...

There's not a lot involved here in terms of compositional complexity or challenge, and thus there's not a lot to say other than this is the sort of recording anyone who has visited a church service in the past 200 years can likely relate to. This isn't some grandiose orchestration of pipe organ, but the tones emitted capture a similar sense of smooth consistency and manifestation of immediate nostalgia. Having personally been pressured by family to attend a Protestant church/Sunday School until my early teens, at which point I proudly, defiantly rejected Confirmation and marched home in my denim Hell Awaits vest through the rain, even I felt the solemn stir of memory here. Of being seated in lacquered wooden pews, listening to the timbres woven through the organ that would herald the oncoming service and score the hymnals. Truth be told, the actual setting and soundtrack to that chapter in my life were never the problem. I think they were both beautiful, generating an atavistic bond between myself and my largely religious ancestors...I just never personally approved or agreed with the message. But ultimately, what I'm saying here is that Jumalhämärä are generating that gorgeous, steady seriousness of the instrument without the requisite piety and boredom.

To be fair, some might view this as an unnecessary source of ennui, but those individuals will largely fall under the category of those that don't share this fond sense of recollection. Unlike Burzum's latest ambient piece Sôl austan, Mâni vestan, a disappointingly dull spin on 80s New Age minimalism, Resitaali seems to draw itself from a richer tapestry of interlocking humanity. I reviewed this from the cassette promo sent to me through Ahdistuksen Aihio Productions, rather than the digital files, which I promptly popped into this old Sylvania radio/tape/record player combo; lit a pair of candles and just studied the slow flicker of the flames while I absorbed the four tracks and 35 minutes. There is some degree of variation in how each is set up, with some sequences proving more desolate, barren and monotonous than others which seem to scale through the vaulted ceilings of the perceived worship-place that might have inspired it. I was actually quite surprised to hear the instrument sink into the more brooding, dissonant construction of track "III", but it did wonders to help establish the wider mood, a broader sojourn for the listener's emotional response.

There are limitations, obviously. Jumalhämärä haven't added any cinematic string sections of dubstep drops (hey, there's an idea?!?) to spice this up. This is a devotional to an instrument we rarely here out of its normal cultural context, and the unusual percussion and creepy black metal aesthetics are entirely vacant. In general there will be one strong harmony persisting through a piece, while tinier melodies drift off peripherally, until the more solemn, single 'chord' sequences that resonate unto dust and nothingness. Within these limitations, though, Resitaali is ultimately successful because, despite the lack of multiple instruments, new and often unexpected patterns do arise over the four tunes. Don't get me wrong: this is 100%, meditative mood music. If you're not into organs, this is unlikely to change your mind. I doubt it would function as a score to your weekend Civil War Reenactment or BMX Rally (actually, strike those, it might ironically work just as well in either situation), but if you set up the proper cerebral controls, this is a sublime, environmental work which actually feels like a complete journey, with a proper beginning and end and very little maudlin meandering throughout. Even the cover is pretty fascinating: why the bird? And why does the chair have only three legs? I may never know, but the sounds of this organ ensure that I want to.

Verdict: Win [8/10]

Jumalhämärä - Resignaatio (2010)

Last year I was truly smitten with the unique, psychedelic frontiers of a young Finnish act called Oranssi Pazuzu, and their debut wound up my top individual pick of 2009. A beautiful experience through all its vacuous details and grim regressions, it proved to me that there were boundaries yet to cross, and new realms to explore in what many would consider a tired, dated sound. Jumalhämärä once again remind us of this, though with a loose, disaffected, and different approach to the material that at times feels as if two separate but congruent bands are performing in disjointed unison. In fact, they go one further by defying the conventions of the metal structure in general, by randomly performing instruments through each of the band's songs, kind of like some hippie drum circle if they were magically whisked away to the Finnish landscape.

Resignaatio, the band's first proper full-length since their foundation 14 years ago, is a head scratcher of a debut, existing on a number of planes of existence and experience that must first be accepted in order to achieve true immersion. As I mentioned, this is like listening to two bands simultaneously. To your right, you've got a thundering Finnish black metal band, a mite more accessible than something like Horna, but barking up that same tree of grandiose raw fortitude, kissing the swamps and backwoods of the band's homeland with tongues of mist and fire. To your left, a band sporadically issues ringing, organic ambiance over the procession, through strings and added layers of vocal atmosphere that challenge depth perception. The result is something quite wonderful and unique, but also casts a loose net, which might not catch every fish swimming in its bleak, captivating sea.

A great example happens early with "Ecstasy in Blood - A Ballad", a 10+ minute excursion into the chaos of the writers' minds, raging through a number of forceful black metal rhythms with expert percussion, while multiple vocals, some harsh, some soaring wrangle off into the sodden and desperate night. After five minutes, the song transforms into this glorious segue of elevating emotion, and after this larval stage it becomes even sparser in the closing moments, eventually returning to the blast beat as higher vocals erupt and a clarity begins to emerge from the madness beneath. "Storm is Coming" is distinctly different, with plucky, dark clean guitars conjuring a dark background to the manly, low vocals, a frightening aural-caust of jilted withering soon forcing its way into the funeral. Shorter, "Haul" seems like pure emotional volcanism, the strange and discordant guitars bleeding into their own ambiance while the drums get busy.

"596" creates a march into feedback, with further gloom-laden clean guitars and slowly creeping bass, spending its full 6 minutes on this journey sans vocal interference, while "Resignaatio" itself careens along a staggering path of menace, multiple black metal melodies woven into a somber lattice of depression across its surface howling. The album closes with another of its longer pieces, "Of Enlightenment and Righteousness Pt. II", another loosely knit matrix of slaughter and compassion, huge resonant tones writhing through its sonic-sphere like placing your head on a highway during a cosmic event, feeling the Earth tremble in terror as its destiny shifts upon its axis, the cries of confusion of seven billion souls fading into the inevitable wake of leviathans. A total surge of mind-fucking, random brilliance.

The average listener of well-structured black metal music might have a difficulty in picking up what this band is putting down, but I assure you this is a ride well worth taking. It's as if Neurosis got even more tribal than expected and improvised a set after taking a time machine to the end of the Earth, each chunk of crust peeling off into the cosmos in an act of ultimate decay, Khanate and Circle of Ouroboros showing up to jam on the encore. Individual components are not 100% distinct or unique, but as the entirety is pieced, no, shoveled into place, I feel like there's not much quite like it. It isn't perfect, and at times in the longer tracks the cerebral, turbulent fusion can grow rather frustrating, but accessibility is not what the band set out for, simply rapture to the few that will be able to adhere to the band's indulgent, quirky system of controlled chaos.

Verdict: Win [8.75/10] (mere meat for the hiding moon)