Every music genre (and subgenre, for that matter) has its own set of rules, and as in most art forms you have to learn 'em before you can break 'em. Swedish group Cult of Luna knows the score, having forged a solid foundation of dark, doomy, experimental metal a decade ago with their second album The Beyond. Okay, I'll admit I first picked that one up based on the title alone (as any proper Lucio Fulci fan would), but after I cracked the seal on that CD I knew I was dealing with a potent and unpredictable musical force.
In many ways, the evolution of their sound parallels that of Norwegian band Ulver, who began life as a black metal unit before undergoing a constant state of transformation from classic rock to dark ambient soundscapes, finally finding their way into the soundtrack for last year's chilling horror hit Sinister. While Cult of Luna doesn't quite share Ulver's extreme-metal origins – they began as a doom metal outfit similar in style to Isis – they have definitely begun playing by a looser set of musical rules than they did back in their early years, and their song structures, production and technique would be just as welcome in a horror soundtrack as their Norwegian counterparts.
Their latest record Vertikal takes it to the next level of darkness with a story thread loosely based on Fritz Lang's monumental silent classic Metropolis, which as you probably know is set in a dystopian future society where subterranean workers slave to support a privileged, technologically advanced elite. The futuristic component of the story is supplied by a wide range of electronic instruments and industrial sound design; while the band had dabbled in these elements on their previous albums (including 2008's much heavier Eternal Kingdom), they go all-in this time around, with amazing results. Old-school metal purists won't find a lot of familiar landmarks in Vertikal, but fans of more experimental rock styles (vocalist Klas Rydberg cites Radiohead as one influence) should feel right at home.
The first impact of Vertikal is the immensity of the sound: after all, it's the product of a massive musical combo often totaling up to eight members in all, with multiple guitarists and some serious multi-tracking. The electronics kick in immediately with intro instrumental "The One,” which feels like an alternate cut of Vangelis's soaring title theme for Blade Runner (which also owes a major debt to Metropolis). It sets the tone for the thundering "I: The Weapon,” which combines wall-of-sound guitar and bass layers with Rydberg's sparse, harsh vocals and repeated melodic chants shimmering percussion and stabbing industrial synths. While the tempo is medium-to-high, it moves in a steady, cyclical patten that maintains the feeling of impending doom that the band established earlier in their career. The dark keyboard flourishes return for "Vicarious Redemption,” soaked with miles of reverb, as background for a ritualistic beat pattern; the cycle here is created by adding layer upon layer of metal elements until the sound space is filled with pulsing, apocalyptic drones.
"The Sweep” begins in a similar fashion with a buzzing retro-futuristic piece punctuated by Rydberg's anguished screams, but the pattern is much simpler. "Synchronicity" takes the reverse tactic, beginning with a slow, single-note arpeggiated guitar riff that suddenly explodes into mega-sludgy chugs and a cascading drum line, countering the dark tones with a warm synth overlay. Buzzing harmonic feedback works its way into a down-tempo industrial dirge for "Mute Departure,” which features a hushed melodic vocal, made more ghostlike through a warbling tremolo effect, as counterpoint to the shouted refrain. The short piano & synth interlude "Disharmonia” takes us into "In Awe Of,” another monolithic, heavy number in the mode of "I: The Weapon,” with a sick, unforgettable riff and a crushing midpoint transition that makes it another of the album's standouts. The closing feedback hum transitions smoothly into the smoky anti-ballad "Passing Through,” pierced by a picked two-octave guitar pattern and whispered melodic vocals. It's a pensive coda to a superb album without a single weak track.
The new year has already served up some seriously dark and experimental concept albums (see our review of Otep's final album Hydra for another chilling example), proving that in this era of the quick-sell single, the concept album is far from dead, and experimental rock, metal and electronic styles are melding and re-shaping to create a total listening experience as dark and creepy as the best mind-bending horror movie. As a fan of both, I've already made a spot for Vertikal on my best-of-2013 list.
Get a little taste of that experience with the powerful cut “I: The Weapon”...