2023-06-14 13:25:21
Hermit sacrifice to the sludge metal Wearer of Numerous Formswhat kali malone in early 2023 for the drone and Bell Witch only recently performed for the Funeral Doom: a larger-than-life epic of exhausting length – and immensely rewarding effect.
Form and content have always been synonymous with the trio from Osnabrück, and it is only logical that Wearer of Numerous Forms as a conclusion with Carrier of Weight (2019) and by means of Bearer of Many Names (2021) continued trilogy is now aiming to change the previous appearance of Hermit in downright exhaustive dimensions: Three songs, the shortest 22 minutes and the longest just under 64, spread over six discs result in a total playing time of over 2 hours, in which the Germans deepen the articulation of their doom-like heaviness as well as they build on the basis of a raise a larger bandwidth – and thus, to anticipate it, by no means infringe on the immense ambitions and volume, but actually their up to now largest Create album.
Need a lot of lead time Hermit but surprisingly not: Conflicting Aspects of Reality awakening from the noise, blasts off at an amazingly fast tempo with an energetic forward sludge, before the number, no, the monolith!, grooves into the patented, stoic stream of viscous riffs and interesting rhythm ideas with all the necessary heaviness, so enchanted and nasty howling at the pitch-black moon. Basically inject sluggishly laid out Hermit practice short, frenzied adrenaline rushes, graze the edges of a war machine that plays the trumpet as a reminder of doom (from Hendrik ‚Brede’ Bredemann) blows, rises above the abyss as a plague and drags itself deadly weary.
After 16 minutes, they return to the ambient drone, the trio makes a contemplative pilgrimage through the oppressive gloom with a deep growl and also ennobles the sound and the production of the record (captured by Roland ‘Role’ Wiegner in the Tonmeisterei) – despite the bulbous rolling ones Slo-mo contemplation of drums and bass, the band creates more of a mysterious creep a la here Godspeed.
bursts Conflicting Aspects of Reality around the half-hour mark, the imaginative black hole doesn’t close at all, but instead transforms crackling and sizzling into funeral and drone metal, just as Boris and Sunn O))) should like it before Eremit 10 minutes later begin to march again in mortification, the trumpet as an emaciated but tough companion in the neck, drawing their furrow together through a tough caustic trickle of heaviness, spitting poison and bile.
If Conflicting Aspects of Reality begins to rear up heroically about a quarter of an hour before the end and also picks up again in spurts at a pounding tempo, Eremit close the arc over a horde of press ridges, which reveal an exhaustive view of the reclined panorama – and thereby create sublime images in front of the inner eye.
Despite the homogeneous coherence and the sound-aesthetic limits of the record, the band also succeeds in hardly losing the following landscapes in tiring uniformities, but in declining the comfort zone with the established color palette in such a coherently varying way that the consuming attention is not forced into idleness – there is much to discover, much to explore, so much substance to soak up in different ways. And the fact that a feeling of absolute satisfaction always outweighs the momentum of overwhelming enthusiasm fits better with the timeless, lasting charisma of Wearer of Numerous Forms.
Entombed in a Prism of Blindness is the most compact passage of the record and correspondingly also a speedy bulldozer with a lot of drive and dynamics, which eventually slows down the tempo Conan to follow, albeit here their Caveman Battle Doom possessed by cursed Black Metal demons. (Has it actually already been mentioned on this occasion that the singing performance is part of the structure of Hermit has never cast a spell on this monumental third work, seems more evil and poisonous than before, gives the instrumental worlds just as much room to grow, and thus creates a conciseness that is pure synergy?)
That Entombed in a Prism of Blindness its nature tectonically revised and the maelstrom begins to pull is to be understood relatively. On the other hand, the forty-five minutes of falls more ambivalently Passages of Poor Light out, which is born menacingly from ambient shallows. The guitars build up patiently and threateningly, even without a completely original arc of tension, as if Efrim Manuel Menuck had a carefully throbbing score for Pallbearer painted – again and again Passages of Poor Light so close to post-rock in its course, just how the delay guitars dream wonderfully of eternity, and thus one of the most beautiful facets in the richer life of Hermit generate.
The band then flips the switch to high-voltage headbanger too abruptly, before the closer begins to revolve around a Rif figure in an almost psychedelic manner, where it is a practically seamlessly varying amalgam from the bursting Black Metal torrent to the slow-motion lava, that finds calm consolation in the melancholic sadness, shimmering guitars in the sky, deep sorrow binds underneath.
Later, a frightening jumpscare happens with grotesque suddenness and hussar rides in the mightily gesticulating show running, screeching hysterically as if The Body hymnic cathedrals for Mizmor embellish beyond self-abandonment. But recently there is an unnecessarily rapid break at the half-hour mark that does not conceal its seams, which tends to turn away completely and tears out of the undertow – the new erratic growth can happen no matter how atmospheric it may happen along a new archetypal arc : here the plate oscillates and, beyond the closed homogeneity, reveals that not every measured meter is of course elementary.
Free! Finds its stringency Passages of Poor Light finally soon again (via a somewhat formulaic rise again), allows the balancing act between a highlight that reaches beyond the previous band zenith and the collage that seems too long and a little disoriented when the physique of the album captivates to the predictable climax, the constant Increasing the intensity more and more concentrated, and this feat of strength still seems like the only logical consequence of a trilogy, at the end of which almost everything for the future of Hermit seems possible.
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