MORK

An obsession with emulating the past has led black metal down some fairly narrow alleyways over the years. Such is the reverence given to the Norwegian scene of the early '90s in particular, that there have not been many bands or artists with the courage to meddle with those original blueprints. Not that MORK have been anything but authentic since their inception. The blazing spirit of the pioneering Norwegian scene is alive and well in every one of the band's records, from the raw clangor of debut "Isebakke" (2013) to the more sophisticated likes of "Katedralen" (2021) and "Dypet" (2023).

But what MORK mastermind Thomas Eriksen has achieved, within those seemingly restrictive parameters, is to expand the potential of primitive black metal through sheer force of imagination. Composed and performed entirely by Eriksen (as was the inaugural UDÅD album, released earlier this year),"Syv" is another unpredictable journey through frostbitten wastes and down dark, cerebral corridors. Once again, its creator's vision is both esoteric and utterly true to the bone.

MORK have never been susceptible to cliché, even on their earliest records. By the time they released 2017's "Eremittens Dal", Eriksen's inspirational meddling had begun to take effect, and it became clear that he was constructing an entirely new world of grim musicality. The extraordinary "Dypet" occasionally felt like the culmination of all that stoic subversion, and a potential resting place for the Norwegian to find fresh inspiration. "Syv" bears enough of a resemblance to its predecessor to confirm that theory, but its most startling moments confirm that MORK's evolution is ongoing and still breathless with excitement. The opening "I Tåkens Virvel" is a fine example: epic, grandiose and overtly progressive, it strikes a sublime balance between icy riffing and meticulous, soulful songcraft. Chord changes never quite fit the expected framework, macabre melodies float up from unexpected places, and the underlying heavy metal oomph of it all is laudably muscular and gritty. MORK may not be on a specific mission to reinvent Norwegian black metal, but songs like "I Takens Virvel" can tick that off as an achievement either way. More straightforward but no less eccentric, "Holmgang" is more spiteful in its attack, but Eriksen's artful arrangement remains fascinating throughout, as post-punk hues mingle with skeletal speed metal, amid a dense gothic fog. In contrast, "Heksebal" goes straight for the throat, with blastbeats like carpet bombing raids, before mutating into a stately, prog-tinged pilgrimage towards the abyss. Weirdly uplifting, despite its malevolent demeanor, it eventually everts to out-and-out extremity, and Eriksen is audibly lost in his own twisted creation, spitting bile into the frosty ether.

Another tightly paced and atmospherically consistent piece of work, "Syv" reaches a peak of efficacy on "Tidens Tann": a gleeful restructuring of black metal's core elements, with a pitch-black hard rock heart, it exudes an air of superiority that is hard to argue with. MORK have become such a benchmark for black metal in recent times that it is easy to forget how radical they have been. "Tidens Tann" is a fantastic song, first and foremost, and a triumph for substance over superficial style. Similarly daring is "Til Svyender Og Sist": a pointedly cinematic instrumental, shrouded in blissful strings, but propelled by a hard-nosed, heavy metal pulse. Only the closing "Omme" — a haunting, acoustic folk confection, with sonorous clean vocals from Eriksen — moves further away from the Norwegian underground's fundamental principles, but even that makes perfect sense here. MORK have trained us to keep our minds open, and "Syv" is all about broad horizons and limitless shades of black.