REVIEW: Arckanum – Fenriz Kindir (2013, Season of Mist)

There are quite a few reviews of this album in the ‘net, mostly
thanks to the efforts of Season of Mist, who became one of the
major distributors of sort-of-extreme music in Europe, especially
their “underground activists” series, which (presumably) were
designed to provide exposure to a lesser known but promising acts.
The purpose thus declared is dubious, as SUA roster includes the
entire discography of Drudkh and back-catalog of Ildjarn, the
latter hardly being an activist by the time reissues hit stores
in 2013. Still, the roster is as impressive as it could be for a
label of this caliber, so Shamatae is in good company. Besides,
the long history of project and its place on periphery of public
attention suit the bill perfectly and the company’s mission in this
case worked precisely as (presumably) declared.

Arckanum emerged in early 90s, and by the time the first album was
released, it had all chances to become one of the country’s staples
in BM scene. Being produced in Abyss Studio catapulted many releases
into “kult” status, but Shamatae apparently chose a different path.
Two follow-up albums veered away from the hip path into a more wooded
area, and the latter of the two, “Kampen”, received mixed responses
because of overly shamanistic nature and botched production by
Necropolis Records who went under soon afterwards. Was it an attempt
at commercial suicide or desire to do a right thing instead of
necessary one, I don’t know, but Shamatae apparently succeeded in both,
spending next decade in musical hiatus writing books on chaos-gnosticism.

In more recent history, Shamatae did revise his approach to making
harsh music, but one of his earlier traits so far remains unaltered,
as he never released two albums that sounded alike, despite some
fleeting technical similarities here in there. Starting from "Antikosmos",
he played with the idea of melody and its part in his sonic excursions,
from almost Gotheborgish “ÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞÞ” with solid upfront catchy
tunes, to more abrasive crunch with occasional flashbacks of NWOBHM or
even power metal on two subsequent releases until he seemed to have
ditched the idea entirely on the present album. He even managed to
record two tracks based on violin which sound utterly un-melodic,
well, at least outside of Dimmu Borgir casus. From conceptual point
of view it all makes sense. “Fenris Kindir” is dedicated to Fenrir,
a giant wolf, son of Loki, who, among other things, ate Odin during
Ragnarok. Honestly, do you really expect such a saga to contain anything
resembling a tune? Instead, technically, we have fishbone stark and
mean bass lines, occasionally reminding of Lemmy in the latter’s glory
days (except Lemmy never sounded this vicious), with grinding guitar
work attached to it. This borderline crossover-meets-black metal
alternates with dark ambient/noise passages and already mentioned
string excursions which provide breathing room, create dynamics and
serve as a counterpoint to grimmer parts of the album which also
feature menacing vocals of Shamatae; not singing, but rather storytelling.
That’s what the albums actually does, it tells a story, and is being
quite consistent and cohesive doing it. Within Arckanum’s discography,
there is no album like it, with possible exception of misty and woody
"Kampen", except now something really came out of these woods. It stands
out perhaps within more or less recent developments of the scene for
at least two reasons. First, as I already mention, it is a rare example
of well-conceived and delivered conceptual album that has always been
uncommon within rawer wing of black metal. Second, it serves as a perfect,
near-textbook example of Dimmu Borgir casus in post-Ildjarn world,
illustrating the possibility of creating sonic aesthetics built on
entirely different principles than music as widely perceived and
accepted, without resorting to complete deconstruction of its fabric.

You can form your own opinion of this album here.