AVRAK

A very welcome contribution from our "what's not to like?" department, the first album from AVRAK is a grubby and thunderous treat. Formed by DARKTHRONE mainstay Ted "Nocturno Culto" Skjellum and fellow guitarist (and vocalist) Anders Hegna in 2025, and completed by the presence of former SARKE members Steinar Gundersen (bass) and Terje Kråbøl (drums),this is a much less primitive entity than keen students of Norwegian black metal might imagine. Rooted in the leather-clad fire and brimstone of '80s heavy metal and hard rock, the songs on this fiery and avowedly straightforward debut revolve around Skjellum and Hegna's instinctive interplay as six-string wizards and have been realized with a full complement of snarling bottom end and brutish drum work. Pitched as a "heavy metal voyage from the peak of the mountains to the depths of the seas", "Avrak" pulls off the neat trick of being both exactly what DARKTHRONE and SARKE fans might expect, and an imaginative and refreshing sidestep for all concerned.

Discerning metalheads will be well aware that Ted Skjellum is an absolute master of giant, sky-shattering riffs, but even by his usual standards, "Avrak" is an exhilarating feast of barbaric heaviness. His partnership with Hegna thrives at the midpoint between the two musicians' respective tastes, as the DARKTHRONE man's penchant for filth-ridden, pre-'90s grandeur butts skulls with the frontman's slightly more contemporary take on underground heft. Liberally sprinkled with robust, doom metal tropes, but audibly influenced by everything from BLACK SABBATH to mid-tempo thrash, songs like anthemic opener "Forever Mountain" revel in the slender, symbolic gap between eras, while hammering enthusiastically away with the grim abandon of the post-BATHORY contingent. Hegna's voice is hugely significant: his grimy, baritone bellow remains relatively clean and melodic throughout, with faint echoes of early Peaceville Records' seminal death / doom cult, but also with the authority of a singer trained in non-underground projection. A hugely charismatic performance from a relative unknown, his vocals are uniformly killer and brilliantly effective.

But let's not overthink this. AVRAK are a monstrous, balls-out heavy metal band, with just enough Scandinavian ice in their veins to keep the scowling purists happy. On songs like recent single "Unborn", evocative and desolate imagery collide with riffs that scythe and swell with obnoxious intensity. "The silence is torn to ashes / From chaos they fall / The time of the unborn is here…" sings Hegna, as a knotty maze of riffs unfolds in graceful slow motion, and rippling clouds of dissonance envelop the song's rugged forward march. On the curiously titled "Long May The Lums Reek", which is a gritty but atmosphere-sodden slice of old-school belligerence, a concluding refrain of "Time waits for no man" repeats with a poignant, melancholic shimmer and graceful doom riffs that drip with grief-stricken harmonies.

After the synth-led, discordant interlude of "Rot", AVRAK's arsenal of riffs grows more hostile. "Varde" is a bellicose call to arms, replete with autumnal discord and stately menace; "Cloaks Of Power" is classic, abominable metal with shades of VENOM at their most accidentally tuneful; "The Lonely Shadow" is a pitiless, post-NWOBHM frenzy that conjures skewed lyrical notions of "doltish screamers" and "the time of the grind"; and "The Rift" is a thrilling grand finale, with punishing and sinister hard rock overtones, a scabby-toned but heroic vocal from Hegna, and an avalanche of snow-ravaged and weirdly timeless riffs that build towards a black-hearted but mighty crescendo of none-more-Norse disdain. The closing "Hav" harnesses a capella vocals and plaintive, traditional percussion to belatedly ramp up the arcane atmosphere, but in truth, "Avrak" is primarily an act of simple, heavy metal purity that just happens to be haunted by the spirit of the night sky. Big riffs, big melodies, no messing about: it's an intuitive, unpretentious triumph.