Immortal
Blizzard Beasts

"Diabolical Fullmoon Mysticism,” “Pure Holocaust,” “Battles in the North” are albums that have undoubtedly contributed to defining black metal as we understand it today: products of an unrepeatable moment in the history of early '90s Norway, Immortal have managed to leave their mark on the history of extreme music, despite lacking the creativity, experimental flair, and innovative energy that characterized acts like Mayhem, Burzum, Darkthrone, and Emperor, to name the most significant.

The “demonbrothers” Abbath and Demonaz preferred to hit the accelerator during those years; their conception of black metal is raw, a bastard child of '80s thrash and death metal. Muddy sounds, riffs as icy as ice, earthquaking drumming, few but effective tempo changes: Immortal's music is a genuine hammer blow to the teeth, yet it is not without a certain atmosphere, and perhaps Immortal's merit lies in having preserved at lightning speed the epic streak that characterized the more meditative masterpieces of mature Bathory.

"Blizzard Beasts” was released in 1997 and was tasked with closing the first cycle of the Bergen band's career: it is indeed the last album on which co-founding member Demonaz would appear on guitar, later forced to hang up his instrument due to tendinitis (the former guitarist would nevertheless remain inseparably linked to the band as a lyricist and producer). Vocals and bass are, as always, entrusted to the charismatic Abbath, while behind the drums sits for the first time the crude brute known as Horgh, destined to become a fundamental pillar of the new Immortal.

But even after years, this “Blizzard Beasts” fails to excite, even if one desperately clings to nostalgia, to memories of the first irreplaceable albums: Immortal's fourth album doesn't reach half an hour, consisting of a brief intro of furious screams and eight modest tracks, often laughably short, relying on a physicality that seems more heavily influenced by classic death metal than before. Contributing significantly is the nervous and epileptic drumming of Horgh, directly adopting the lessons in brutality given by Pete Sandoval from the Morbid Angel pulpit. The bass, as usual nonexistent, is not missed, while the flat guitar performance of Demonaz is criticized on many points; he seems to play his instrument with an ice slab in his ass (perhaps left over from posing for the “Battles in the North” cover), getting entangled in more than one instance, weak in execution, not generous with memorable riffs as was the case in the past.

The usual three grim faces on the cover, but the sounds, never so confused, are even less convincing: not that the previous albums were produced by Alan Parsons, but here it truly hits rock bottom, and it's a pity, as the tracks themselves wouldn't have been so bad. Certainly, the grandeur, the monumental nature, the immortality of classic past works is another thing, but it is still an album by Immortal: tracks like “Nebular Ravens Winter” and “Suns that Sunk Below”, for example, captivate with their abrupt tempo changes, with the darkness and miasma exhaled by fast-paced black metal teetering on the edge of decay. Class, after all, isn't something you can achieve overnight, and once one's ear gets accustomed to that drum skipping lively on the meadow, the ultra-compressed guitar coming and going in a stuttering manner, and Abbath's childish, gastritic screaming, it all starts to make sense. But by the time we come to unveil and hold the secrets hidden within the grooves of this despicable and irrational metal, of this meager head-on assault, of this hysterical blasphemous and warmongering dribble, it will be too late: we'll realize that all things considered, it wasn't worth lingering over the work for so long.

However, let's give credit where it's due: standing out among tracks that love to break off after just two or three minutes, there's a remarkable last-ditch effort, the splendid “Mountains of Might”, a powerful mid-tempo of almost seven minutes reconnecting to that line of highly epic pieces of which “Blashyrkh (Mighty Ravendark)” is the best representative. But “Mountains of Might” goes further, with its majestic keyboard opening and the legendary acoustic break that bursts in midway through the track, drawing fantastic, unspoiled, crystalline landscapes, dotted with snowy and steep peaks, trod by armies proudly trotting against the snow and wind. A track destined not only to become a classic of the band but also to officially inaugurate the post-Demonaz era, opened two years later by that “At the Heart of Winter,” heavily centered on Abbath's figure, which would unlock new shores for the band, now determined to indulge their epic and visionary vein in long and fierce compositions now openly tributary to the Viking forays of the patron Quorton.

An interlocutory album, “Blizzard Beasts”, certainly below the masterpieces that preceded it, but necessary to lay the groundwork for what would become the rebirth of one of the most legendary bands in the Norwegian metal scene.