Hate Forest
Purity

“Whoever buys an album from Hate Forest, buys a weapon against themselves”. The forest of hate. Just translating the band's name would be enough to explain the meaning of everything that comes out of their instruments. The Ukrainians Hate Forest are a myth, a legend, one of those bands destined to be and remain a "cult" forever, one of the most innovative yet underrated realities of the entire black metal scene. Certainly, their word is pure Nordic black, cold, even glacial, at 340 degrees below zero, dark and black as pitch (or maybe more).

But are we talking about that line introduced by Darkthrone that relies on monotone riffs and mosquito guitars? Are we talking about the usual hymns from demons awakened after millennia, with raw production and an atmosphere of a frozen forest? No, it’s not what you think. Hate Forest are different, in their sounds but also in their attitude. Their being "cult" despite the high quality of what they offer is a true and proper choice of attitude. They distance themselves from Darkthrone, Satyricon, and all those bands that have always been in the loop, wherever black metal is mentioned. They remain hidden, composing in total silence, have no contact with anything related to satanic cults and similar stuff, they are distant from the scene and don't even have an official website, drawing inspiration solely from nature and their inner selves. Their philosophy is the total rejection of the world, the media, crouched in an aura of mystery, maximizing the concept of "underground". And those who manage to go beyond appearances and prejudices cannot help but notice how much there is of spirituality and asceticism in their music. “Purity” is the perfect example.

Every song begins with the same atmospheric intro. It's “Domination”. Suddenly, a guitar distortion overshadows everything, tearing the skin from the flesh, while the acceleration of the drums removes any glimmer of hope, in 40 seconds of absolute and total darkness. The first two tracks don’t even allow a pause to breathe. Guitar, drums, and vocals flow sowing death at every step. Perhaps it is just the storm, the snowstorm that precedes the calm and the gloomy silence of the forest. But it won't take long to arrive: it will be found in “The Gate”. The first riff of the track closely recalls the very first Immortal, an epic yet dark spirit, but with a growl voice that digs into the unconscious and awakens all fears. This journey in the night occupies the first half of the song, and in that fateful moment (4:53) everything changes, as if the violence of the storm had turned into the gracefulness of the wind, a black spiritual journey that accompanies the senses and soul. The guitar slows its run to drag itself, like a damned kneeling at the gates of hell asking for forgiveness. But eternal punishment is inevitable. The slow movement of the drums becomes a wave, a flow of crystalline tears lost in the wind, left to themselves. It is the spirit of the forest that incarnates in those instruments, in those notes, the muted cry of despair of those who got lost on that path and perished, engulfed by the cold. Sensations difficult to describe in words. And finally, it will again be the storm to close the song, violence, but more subdued, fading in its approach, up to the next “Megaliths”, another relentless attack. You will have to wait for the fifth track, “The Immortal Ones” to feel again the sensations offered by “The Gate”. The structure of the song grows, almost malignantly, until a moment of stasis... The guitar seems to whisper incomprehensible phrases, which soon turn into a chant of distant gods. Here's another song that manages to give you the chill of the frozen forest, the one that only frozen snow on the skin can provide. And the song proceeds slowly and softly, until the mental confusion of “Desert Of Ice”, a riff that stops enveloping and begins to overwhelm, literally. The conclusion is entrusted to “Cromlech”, a succession of icy strummings and distortions that leave you lost and powerless, then close again and return to the tomb, under the snow.

In Hate Forest, I repeat, you will not find banal monotone riffs and melodies for immediate suicide, as some might have already imagined, but something much closer to a spiritual journey, a subtle and perverse sensation, but perceivable under the skin. Not suitable for the faint of heart.