KHORS PUT THE “PI” IN “EPIC” (OR SOMETHING) ON WISDOM OF CENTURIES
In an act of unabashed bushleague greenhornery, I asked Fenriz about his feeling on “unpolished, underground production quality,” to which he was kind enough to respond that he was more focused on the “RIGHT sound for my songs, not most clear or most ugly” (as opposed to “You think I haven’t heard this question 28,000 times in the last fifteen years, fuckface?”) This way of thinking is lost on the vast majority of black metal, who view minimalist recording technique as a prerequisite instead of a tool. Usually this viewpoint results in mediocre Burzum ripoffs lost in tape hisses, but every now and again, a brilliantly composed slab of grimness is marred by unnecessarily scuffing it up. While the best raw black metal makes the production a part of the tapestry, decent melodic black metal in the raw only leaves one wondering what could have been.
Ukranian sad bastards Khors wisely sidestep this problem on Wisdom of Centuries, employing huge, lush production that fills up all available space with melancholy chords and fascinating orchestration. While this certainly isn’t navelgazing post-black or a chalice-full-of-red-wine operatic doom affair, the band are better serviced by the clarity a good attention to sonic detail provides. Wisdom of Centuries is an enthralling listen, providing equal parts emotional depth and clenched-teeth burliness. It’s a great argument for the fact that maybe it’s not so bad for black metal to get out of the basement every now and again.
The band’s best point of reference would be fellow countrymen Drudkh, sharing their penchant for lush, rural soundscapes that seem to borrow as heavily from shoegaze as they do from the OG churchburners of yore. But unlike Drudkh, who seemingly discovered Dischord Records and Slowdive in the last five years and decided they wanted to make albums that sound like that now, Khors still lean heavily toward black metal. Wisdom of Centuries is full of charred vocals, tremolo-picked minor chords, and drums comfortably volleying between Celtic Frost strides and traditional black metal blasts. It’s the quiet moments, though, that are the most evocative: while many of their peers are content with downshifting into folk or unintentionally-‘80s keyboard symphonies, Khors drape warm layers of synths over their frosty dervish. The pair of instrumentals in the middle of the album work as a fine palate-cleanser, relying on Wagnerian brass and Deftones-esque drumming in equal parts to relieve and build tension. It’s not the most innovative black metal album, but the tweaks that are implemented work beautifully.
What makes Khors stand out from their contemporaries is the sheer force that’s still behind them. The aforementioned Drudkh beautifully integrate resignation and despair with pastoral black metal; Khors is deeply rooted in anger and aggression, even if they’re willing to build layers to add complexity. Which is why, in the end, the band come off more unnerved than sad. Wisdom of Centuries offers a full, well-defined picture of the emotional spectrum of black metal. And a good producer brings that picture the kind of clarity that’s necessary. They can’t all be Ulver’s Nattens Madrigal; sometimes you gotta let that shit breathe.
(4 out of 5 horns)
-SO
