Blut aus Nord
777: Sect(s)

There is little doubt that Black metal is the most controversial genre in the metal caravan. A genre that is probably something more, perhaps a true philosophy, and that has given us memorable pages of music, overshadowed however by events that are even more so. A movement as musically intriguing as it is infested by criminals, Nazi sympathizers, or simple idiots; a movement born from a group of madmen (the Mayhem, a band in which, in my opinion, events outside their music had at least as much weight as the music itself) and often continued along this line. And so? Are we to say that the genre itself is wrong? Obviously not. Remember Plato: eros -in this case, we might say "musical passion"- must be oriented towards the Good (here decency suffices), and it is our duty to do so. Fortunately, some have acted in this direction, giving rise to a variety of thematically different lines (one about nature, one more introspective...) and a myriad of new musical proposals.

Where is the correlation between these two phenomena? In the fact that, for instance, in experimental Black metal, it is more difficult to find artists dealing with Satanism and anti-Christianity in the strict sense (the crass and now traditional ones). Such is the case with the French Deathspell Omega, who speak (at times) of a Satanism that could be called metaphysical; and such is the case with their compatriots Blut Aus Nord, long lovers of philosophy and mysticism; a group with an artistic stature perhaps inferior to the ineffable DSO, but which demonstrates how, in the realm of current avant-garde Black, France is probably superior even to Norway (and let us also remember Alcest). Do you want to know how they demonstrate it? By producing another great, splendid album: "777: Sect(s)".

So, 777; the 7 in place of the now overused 6. How should we understand this title, and consequently the entire work? The number 7 certainly has a highly symbolic power (it is a key figure in Buddhism, for example), but towards what shores is this power channeled? 7 is the number of virtues and sacraments, but also that of the cardinal sins. Indeed, if here we do not venture towards inconvenient wickedness, we are, however, resting on positions that oscillate between a Schopenhauer and a Nietzsche. At least, this is what the scattered axioms (strictly in French) in which this disc is divided allow us to deduce. An epitome is a compendium, a summary of a vast work; and the work of Blut Aus Nord tells of a tragic, Leopardian-like world, where living is actually non-living, where error and misunderstanding mercilessly dance over the world, where there is only space for an eternal end, which cannot be happy, and is always more imminent.

The music conveys the same message, and, from a purely stylistic point of view, it is almost a summary of all the distinctive tracks of the French proposal: against the background of a narrow Black metal, we have Industrial cues, which sometimes yield to moments of Ambient or those that are hints even of Drone; moreover, a certain continuity with "Memoria Vetusta II" is, in my opinion, guaranteed by the bizarre riffs of Vindsval's guitar. In any case, each epitome is a story in itself: the first part immediately ruthless, then making space for a ghostly conclusion; the second is a piece we could describe as "doomish" and entirely plays out on the riffs that pervade it; there seems to be a happy ending, but the third track (akin to the first) will promptly disprove you. However, the true fulcrum of the record is the fourth episode: a lengthy twelve-minute track that mediates between the aggressiveness of the first triad and the more mystical, almost esoteric character of the last two epitomes; the sixth, then, with its guitars that weave cruel and relentless geometries over sounds from another dimension, is another masterpiece. In general, then, this work exudes unease, oppression, cosmic pessimism, lucid terror; it seems almost like the work of a ghostly trio, filled with the laments of the damned, dissonant edges, nauseating synthesizers, harsh screams, and an anguishing mid-tempo.

Now, I do not criticize from a musical standpoint the works of Mayhem (seminal), Gorgoroth, or whoever else; however, allow me to say that I prefer works that, for pleasure, do not need to resort to their crap. The value of music should reside within it, not outside it: a lesson that seems obvious to us, but that many fanatical blacksters ignore. So then, let us enjoy these six gems by Blut Aus Nord, as much as possible. One last tidbit? This is just the first chapter of a trilogy that should be completed (in theory) by the end of the year, all dedicated to the magical figure 777. And the second, "777: The Desantification", will be released in just three days. Slurp.