Somn
The All-Devouring

Just yesterday, a well-known user of the site dismissed Black Metal as "an authentic farce": a display of disrespect that honestly made me angry. There is an urgent need to rectify, a need to respond to this affront; a need to bring back to the Homepage the mournful banner of Black Metal.

At first, I thought of showcasing Warmoon Lord's debut, but after listening to its old-school sound, I felt uneasy. Because, ultimately, it's true that many of the pioneering bands of the second wave of Black Metal, the wave that defined the genre as we know it today, consisted of individuals who were, at the very least, questionable, sometimes actual criminals; and with all the corpse paint, pig heads thrown at the audience, Jews insulted and offended, the worship of Satan, murder-suicides, and churches occasionally burned for pastime, the temptation to dismiss the movement as a bunch of fools somewhat rises. But we mustn't forget that it's a movement that gave us bands like Immortal, the fabulous Enslaved, and early Ulver, just to name three; nor should we ignore that, due to its characteristics, Black Metal is a musical form that particularly lends itself to fusions and contaminations that keep the genre healthy and vibrant and have gifted us with memorable works.

In this sense, the Russians Somn come to my aid; a brand new group, whose members, with other bands, have already gotten their hands dirty in the tundra zone where Black Metal, Post Metal, and Shoegaze meld.

"The All-Devouring" is an album reflecting on the long and pitiless night, on the powers of dreams, and the anxiety caused by losing control of our thoughts while we sleep. The opener "Sightless" is tasked with setting the coordinates of the work: dark Shoegaze guitars disturbed by increasing distortions that evolve into a hybrid sonic form; then, here comes the explosion, the Black aggression. However, this aggression is soon tempered, controlled, channeled into an atmosphere of pure emotive arabesques. "The All-Devouring" is this: a condensation of feelings, of ripples of the soul, for an atmospheric Black Metal bathed in Shoegaze that sometimes releases its fury in fierce blast beats and an enslaved-like scream vocal, other times lingers in ethereal, suffering, and melancholic Post Rock passages. Four long tracks that are like intricate chapters of a novel, between anguish, anxiety, passion, sadness, and comfort, in a climax ranging from blindness to wonder, from mental storm to oblivion.

But then there's the incipit of "Tempest" reminiscent of "Chop Suey!". But then there are the cymbals, those splendid drum cymbals that resonate with your spirit.

An album that doesn't catapult you into a frozen forest at night with the full moon, but has what every true Black Metal album must possess: being visceral.

I'm done... now I feel better... much better...