1349

The dark magic of the Norwegian black metal scene in the late '80s and early '90s will never truly be replicated. Like all revered musical eras, it grew from a confluence of circumstances that still exist in memory, but that have zero chance of being repeated in the same way. But of all the bands that have nobly fought to keep the naïve but resolute spirit of Norwegian black metal alive, 1349 have come far closer than most.

In the 21st century at least, the Oslo quartet have consistently outshone the competition, while retaining the ability to torch the rulebook with impunity. In particular, third album, 2005's "Hellfire", is still one of the few genuine black metal classics of the last 25 years. But while later records like 2009's vexed experiment "Revelations Of The Black Flame" and 2014's aptly-titled "Massive Cauldron Of Chaos" have generated plenty of interest and ignominy, 1349 have never quite equaled the scabrous heights of their magnum opus. 2019's "The Infernal Pathway" came close, hinting at a return to the blistering form of "Hellfire" without quite capturing its void-gazing intensity. Five years on, "The Wolf and The King" is another ferocious forward step.

The dividing line between 1349 and most of their peers it that they have always been skilled technicians with a genuine sense of a heavy metal inheritance. "The Wolf and The King" begins at maximum velocity, with "The God Devourer": more of a whirlwind than a song, with guitarist Archaon delivering layer after layer of scalding lead work, and drummer Frost doing his customary thing of channeling the early '90s single-handedly through ever feral blastbeat. In amongst the extremity, there is such refined musicality to what 1349 do that songs work on two distinct levels — the sophisticated and the animalistic. "The God Devourer" is a punishing roar of muscular brutality, but the eerie, subzero atmospheres of the old-school infect every riff, and swirl around 1349's gristly but ornate, Frost-propelled architecture like restless ghouls on the prowl. The best of both wicked worlds, if you wish.

"The Wolf and The King"'s eight songs are uniformly delivered with imperious, sinewy brutishness. "Ash Of Ages" and "Shadow Point" both wallow in arcane, frostbitten murk, using slower tempos to further lower the temperature, but still hammering away with deadly intent, frontman Ravn spitting infernal polemic from his bully pulpit. "Shadow Point" fades in on a menacing death metal grind, before mutating into a deceptively complex maze of interlocked necro-thrash riffs and merciless, barbaric clatter from Frost. Next, "Inferior Pathways" marks a real moment of inspirational intuition for 1349. Ostensibly a flat-out and furious black metal song, just as Satan intended, it weaves such an intricate web that it becomes authentically psychedelic, albeit in a stoically malicious and monochromatic way. In contrast, both "Inner Portal" and grandiose closer "Fatalist" allow more melody to run wild across the Norwegians' militant batterings, with the latter harnessing the power of post-punk to genuinely unnerving ends. At the other end of dynamic scale, both "The Vessel and The Storm" and "Obscura" hark back to the all-out war of "Hellfire", but with refined, progressive touches and deliriously vicious guitar work providing flashes of gruesome color.

Black metal is available in many different forms and shades, but 1349's all-encompassing heroics are still setting the standard. "The Wolf and The King" is their best album in years, and a righteous reminder that no one fucks with Norway.