Nergal - ΣΑΕΤΑΝ ΕΞΙ - ΕΞΙ - ΕΞΙ (2011)

Like Deviser, Nergal are another band of Hellenic old timers back in the scene after some time off. However, in this case, there wasn't quite as long a wait. They released an astoundingly average sophomore, Absinthos, in 2006, and also took part on a split with an even more underground act (Lykaionas) a few years after that. Well, ΣΑΕΤΑΝ ΕΞΙ - ΕΞΙ - ΕΞΙ (I'm not worldly enough to have the faintest fuckin' idea) is at least a return to the straight black metal aesthetics of its predecessor, with a lot of banal blasting rhythms and consistent but uninspired sounding sneers. It sounds like a mix of the more accelerated Rotting Christ material and the Norwegian bands like Emperor and (early) Dimmu Borgir, and it's got some depth and versatility to it which stave it off from the threshold of ennui.

I feel like when the band starts blasting, I develop a headache. It's not that the drumming isn't constant and consistent, and the tremolo picking not pulled off in accordance, but it's a good example of how the brick rhythms of black metal fundamentals need a little seasoning to really capture the imagination. A lot of these sequences, in "Ταγμα της Αβυσσου", "Συκαιωνας - Αρατος" or the bridge of "Χαιρε Χαος", just don't seem to cut it. Thus, whenever the band shifts into other territory, the album almost gives a false sense that it's becoming more interesting. They do breakdowns, they do slower, atmospheric pieces with a real sense of localized ethnic notation to them ("Figura Baffometi" for one, which seems pretty Rotting Christ), and they even experiment as with the ambient finale "600-60-6", but the variation itself never manifests in anything really memorable here.

What's worse, a few of the songs are just too long for their own good. Several clock in at 7 minutes, which is not all that extensive for this genre, and yet they don't really support their weight with quality riffing and ear catching transitions. The major culprit, though is "Α - Ω", over 14 minutes of slower paced, atmospheric black metal with glaring rasps and lots of really dull and vapid melodies. Seriously, if you're writing a 14 minute song without even one instance of climax or a ripping transition, then what's the use? Nergal tries to vary itself up here, and that's not a negative. There is a hint of both mystery and eloquence, and I also admire their sticking to Greek themes, language and symbolism, but I'm afraid this was easily my least favorite of their works, and I'll be sticking with The Wizard of Nerath if I ever need a fix.

Verdict: Indifference [5.75/10]

http://www.myspace.com/nergalhellas

Nergal - Absinthos (2006)

Having developed into what some would consider the 'poor man's' Rotting Christ or Varathron, Nergal had themselves a minor cult effort in their full-length debut The Wizard of Nerath. Sure, it left much to be desired in the long run, but clearly it was a statement of competence and potential. Alas, its qualities were not capitalized upon, and the band fell into torpor for more than a decade before the decision to summon once again their dark and ancient concerns into a fresh vortex of ritual pantomime. Absinthos still sounds a bit like a band standing in the considerable shadow of Rotting Christ, who had written its like several times with superior results, but I'd not say that this was an album to write off entirely: it knows its business, and provides a passable haunting.

With studio possibilities having come a long way in the ensuing decade, it would be no shock that Absinthos sounds far more polished than its predecessor. As clean as a golden apple, consistently sound in its variation and songwriting choices. The title track itself opens the proceedings with a wall of synthesizer, martial horns swelling up alongside manly narrative passages, often quite laughable but nonetheless entertaining. But then comes the strident, tremolo riff driven black metal content ("The Tearful Eyes of the Countess") kissed with sweetness of subtle synthesizers, solid and resonant rasping which helps rend aside the temporal boundaries into which these Greeks are reaching. They are clean in their transitions, and half-cracked at pulling off a riff or two, but I found that as the album grew faster and more ferocious ("Scream in the Forest" or "Live the Death"), it seemed to perk up, if only because there is more energy being discharged than the middling, medium paced compositions.

A lot of melodic mute-streams, which is one of the primary reasons I'm so reminded of the whole Rotting Christ approach (Thy Mighty Contract through their modern material). The only difference is that Nergal just don't build such entrancing patterns with their guitars, and thus the material feels less passionate and emotional. A song like "Deliverance by the Tyranny of Life" has all the components of what makes the Greek from appealing, but once I'm finished listening to it I simply can't evoke the desire to replay it. The dark chugging, heavily synthesized "Dark Prevalence" constructs a cheesy but compelling pomp, with some kinder piano passages strewn about, but even here, at the album's grandest deviation, the notes just aren't fixed into patterns that fondle the imagination. Nergal succeeds here in ridding themselves of a decade of empty, open air, but ultimately Absinthos is not so entertaining as their debut, and really not valuable unless one is seeking further examples of the style which reached its peak upon Thy Mighty Contract, The Wizard of Nerath, His Majesty at the Swamp and Eosforos. An honest try, but not enough to echo through the athenaeums of antiquity.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/nergalhellas

Nergal - The Wizard of Nerath (1995)

The Wizard of Nerath represents a huge departure from the 'poor man's Necromantia' sound of Nergal's De Mysteris Vermiis EP two years prior. No longer is the distorted bass the central focus, but guitars have been added for a more conventional approach to the genre. There are also some Burzum-like, tortured screams here, especially in the opening track "Timeless Father", which I was not expecting. But otherwise, this is a much closer approximation of the Greek tradition that we know from bands like Varathron and Rotting Christ, with only subtle differentials that stand it on its two feet among the rest of the hopefuls. And despite a few minimal flaws, like the lack of strong guitar riffs throughout, The Wizard of Nerath stands as the band's crowning career achievement, even if that headpiece is not hardly glittering with jewels...

My favorite component of the album is likely the synthesizer work, which truly reflects that mix of martial and ritual novelty that could only come out of the 90s. "Ljus morker" is perhaps the strongest piece on the album, a pompous march purely of keyboards and harsh, shouted vocals that proves their most unnerving composition to its day. Then there's the finale "Sparagmos", a seven minute swell of epic ambient that hearkens to days of the ancients, of barbarism, and of ominous portents. Elsewhere, the synths are simply adhered to provide a glorious circus amidst the driving, heavily fuzzed out guitar tone, like the horn-ish strikes in "My Soul, Blood, Will Be Dripping" or "The Dream of the Dragon", which plays out a lot like what Sweden's Therion were crafting at the time on their masterpiece Lepaca Kliffoth. The vocals are suitably harsh throughout the album, and I actually love the guitar tone, but I found that most of the riffs were individually not that impressive, so they serve only as a fragment of the atmosphere and not a dominating force.

The actual construction of the guitars creates a stopgap between the legendary Celtic Frost and fellow Greeks Rotting Christ, for Nergal writes a lot of fell majesty and thundering epic aesthetics that dwell in both the fantastic and mythological. The Wizard of Nerath often feels like a bastard child of To Mega Therion and Thy Mighty Contract, though the songs are neither as distinct or memorable as what you'd hear on those classics. Still, like Thou Art Lord's Eosforos or Medieval Demon's Demonolatria, there is a particular charm at play that manages to lend the material a cult efficiency. This is not the first album I'd reach for when seeking a traditional Greek black fix, but if you're into most of the other bands I've named here, then it's possible you would derive some satisfaction from this. The bolstered level of variation and the fuzzy weight of the riffing exceeds the 1993 EP in quality, but only mildly. Alas, the band would simply not take off with this, and it would be the last they were heard of for over a decade...

Verdict: Win [7/10]

http://www.myspace.com/nergalhellas

Nergal - De Vermis Mysteriis EP (1993)

Nergal was another Greek band to join the ranks of Varathron, Septic Flesh, Rotting Christ and so forth by releasing an EP well ahead of any full-length endeavors, but the sound they were going for draws a full-on comparison to to Necromantia (or the earlier works of Finnish outfit Barathrum). This is due to the use of the distorted bass as the central instrument in their grim configuration, plotted alongside the keyboards, tinny and under-produced drums and monstrous rasp vocals. It's almost as if the band were conjuring a raw, punkish black sludge here, but the synthesizers are leaning into a black/Gothic territory; an appealing and fresh sound, no doubt, but unlike Necromantia's Crossing the Fiery Path, for instance, the compositions feel a bit loose.

The bookends to the EP are quite nice, but then they also account for about 50% of the content. The swelling choir intro feels as if it might have been bitten out of a movie or game, but if not, all the power to Nergal. The same might be said for the finale, which is this dreamy and eloquent, yet subtle piano piece, but this feels slightly more original in the context of a black metal disc. Then, similar to Disharmony's EP from the same year, there are a meek two tunes comprising the core of this: the voluptuous and belligerent "In the Name of Nergal" with its banks of four string obsession imbued with martial keyboard passages and solid groove and double bass; and "In Glass of Sin", which is slightly less aggressive, almost like they were concocting a mellower, barbaric hymn with moodier bass lines and organs for a cryptic mood, at least until the song opens up with more of the sludgy momentum.

De Vermis Mysteriis is a fairly meager ration, I can't argue that, but there's just something about it which does feel unhinged. As if the convocation of cheesy synth lines and rugged, go with what you have attitude at some point collide into an authentic clamor. The vocals are pretty harsh, more akin to Zemial than Rotting Christ, and the compositions crude, but the atmosphere created is resilient and possibly worth checking out if you're into the formative works of their countrymen. Just don't expect a miracle.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/nergalhellas