Dark Fortress
Ylem

THE REVIEW

It's all about atmosphere, black metal.

From the smoking wounds of the belligerent Marduk to the ancestral nihilism, unwavering rejection of melody and variations by the beastly Norwegian masters, to the degenerate offspring with symphonic elements, through the depressive decay and the experiments of certain American bands: they must create something, a situation of inner flaying, uncontrollable erosion of every pseudo-human structure with the goal of a catharsis... but this is the result only the greats can achieve, Opus Nocturne, Panzerfaust, Diabolic Fullmoon Mysticism do not come out every month (unfortunately...).

There are, however, releases that don't shock, but rather stir a magmatic and dark misanthropy that, if they don't hit the jackpot, they come pretty close. These are the skilled bands that, like demiurges, mold the black matter and manage to make you shudder, at least during the first listens. This is the case with "Ylem". Accused by many of being a decisive step towards commercialism, with Dark Fortress under Century Media. Nothing could be further from the truth. Instead, the band's influences take a dip this time into one of the heaviest albums of the decade, that "Into The Pandemonium" that the latest incarnation of Celtic Frost has cast upon the earth. Not only that, in the initial tracks, there are stopped riffs worthy of the modern thrash school that make everything more dynamic. Let's say it outright, the first half of the tracklist is the most significant because it is varied and engaging, the band is on fire, the guitars intertwine perfectly, accents of keyboards give a tragic touch that makes the tension palpable. Then the magic breaks when you realize that in the seven or eight-minute tracks, you would eliminate at least thirty seconds per song ("Redivider"), passages already heard not only abundantly in the body of the song but also by other bands. Again, the four-minute tracks sound like latest style Satyricon and paradoxically become the most repetitive of the album ("Satan Bled" would like to be nonchalant in its pace, but it's just clumsy). A final burst with two little gems (one and a half, let's say...) slow and creeping, the first of death/doom extraction that highlights the singer's skills who is at ease with non-strictly black registers as well, and the second crowned by an excellent work of refined and multiform guitar... but that can't cover the vocal ruin perpetrated by the clean vocals, absolutely devoid of any reason to exist, without any edge.

In conclusion, a long trip - perhaps too long, over seventy minutes - that presents itself as an evolution of the less extremist and more contamination-attentive black, while remaining within certain sulfurous schemes. A second-tier purchase, certainly particular, but with ideas snatched from the big names in the scene.