Review: Krallice – Scour Order
Returning to the beginning yields great results for these bastard sons of black metal
Considering their place as firebrands and experimentalists in black metal, it is easy to forget that Krallice‘s continuous deconstructions of the genre (and many other extreme metal styles) originated close to two decades ago. Primarily consisting of Mick Barr, Colin Marston, Lev Weinstein, and Nick McMaster (members have played in such acts as The Flying Luttenbachers, Behold… The Arctopus, Bloody Panda, Encenathrakh, and far too many more to list here), the group’s original niche lay in uniquely technical and heady takes on black metal. Making use of experimental song structures, bizarre time signatures, and, perhaps the most iconic element, a set of dueling, polyphonic guitar leads from Marston and Barr, the band took long-winded and dense compositions to places of great intrigue. The self-titled debut and Years Past Matter, to name two, display a band of multifaceted and gifted musicians aiming to fill their avant-garde compositions with as many interesting little details as possible. These records, much like Impressionist paintings, contain textures that seem granular and busy when focused in on, but come together into a cohesive piece when the listener proverbially “steps back.”
The band’s approach to this idea began to take a new, even more technicality-forward direction (starting with 2015’s mind-bending Ygg huur) that fraternized black and death metal into a unique genre fusion that still carried the band’s progressive ambitions. Similarly, their sound again evolved (due to the restrictions of the Coronavirus lockdowns) on Demonic Wealth, which saw the dueling guitar format traded in for heavy synth usage that stuck throughout the rest of their 2020s material. This change allowed the group to embrace whole new styles of atmospheric, experimental music that, at times, became hard to classify as “metal” (we are far, far away from Black Sabbath or even Darkthrone at this point). The fever pitch of this gradual shapeshifting was the landmark release of Inorganic Rites, a record that seemed to represent the various techniques of their discography in one hour-long package—a bon voyage to Marston’s recording studio the band had grown comfortable in.
I guess it’s this gradual procession into the unknown that inspired the group to take the formula back to the beginning on Scour Order, a record seemingly defined by a return to the polyphonic guitar duo that was previously front and center in their work, (mostly) devoid of the synths that have populated much of their post-Covid material. In their press material for Scour Order, it is emphasized that this material is “…both a return to familiar foundations and a continuation of the band’s ongoing evolution,” which is to say the lessons learned in general compositional techniques are worked into the format most similar to Krallice. In this streamlining of their sound, they’ve pivoted back to a lengthy exhibition of inspired guitar passages, seamlessly playing off of each other with both grace and force, and a rich, defined rhythm section that plays in a league of its own.
Barr and Marston’s writing is sharp and angular, regularly employing advanced techniques with their guitars that still play greatly into a larger work, as opposed to the kind of jarring, flashy showboating that black metal is supposed to exist in opposition to. The duo’s time in some of metal’s most demanding and progressive bands has seasoned them greatly as players, pulling off killer moments of synergy on “Kill the Guardian” and “Agonal Shining,” just to name two. The supporting roles of drummer Weinstein and bassist McMaster, too, play off each other in a way that’s more subtle, but equally as important to the Krallice experience. The stripped back simplicity and lack of maximalist layering—as gratifying as records like Inorganic Rites and Porous Resonance Abyss are—allows for all 4 members’ performances to flourish with great success. In terms of the songwriting, the band’s most recent full-length carries with it the far more dynamic riffs and structures of their recent run, as opposed to the somewhat-monotone repetitions found within their early work, such as Dimensional Bleedthrough. The old style has its benefits, as the minimalist repetitions served to build the deep atmospheres that those records traded in, not unlike compositions from Philip Glass and Harold Budd. I would argue that framing the old band construction through the lens of their modern writing and performance style allows for rich atmospherics while still creating engaging and fulfilling moments of technical bliss.
The experience the band has now also informs the near-eclectic flow of the record, with sections of blackened complexities giving way to Atheist or Spheres-era Pestilence-style jazz-metal or technical death metal riffs that would be more at home in the band’s early 2020s material (not to say that it doesn’t fit here). The band, especially with time, has been no stranger to bouncing between hyper-niche styles to great effect, yet never before do I feel that Krallice has utilized that aspect to this degree. Oftentimes the transitions are so smooth that you’ll suddenly find yourself in sprawling passages that are both unique to that moment, but also generally cohesive with the rest of the work. It’s a finesse the band has had to work toward for years, making its culmination on this full-length especially gratifying. Looking into some highlights of the tracklist, we find enthralling compositions on the speedy, adrenaline-pumping single “Kill the Guardian,” the surreal, fusion-y “Grievous Corrector,” the immense “Indecipherable Divinities” and (in Krallice tradition) a deeply ambitious longform closer in the title track: A song that sticks the landing and builds to a powerful climax to the listening experience.
This all comes together to fulfill that special, near-impressionistic quality I admire so much in this group, resulting in a record that seems to take the right lessons away from each of their previous albums and uses them to reach a high mark of quality. Further illustrating the concept of the many details becoming one, just look to the album art of Scour Order—as drawn by Barr. Each abstract shape fits together into a large, formidable mass, almost as if it were a visual representation of the band’s specific strength as a unit. This, combined with the self-actualized level of quality that lies within, reads as almost a sort of mission statement for Krallice, now realizing a great potential and ready to continue to push the boundaries of metal as a whole.
4.5/5 Flaming Toilets ov Hell
Scour Order releases 18 September via Bandcamp.
