Slagmaur – Hulders Ritual


Norwegian unit, Slagmaur, seldom appear in conversations about contemporary black metal. Hulders Ritual is the fourth album of the career since they issued their debut in 2007, yet it could pass for any record from the dominant Darkthrone era of the 1990s. What happened to the avant-garde aspects of their music?

There’s no dramatic suspense in the opening to ‘Ritual Dogs’. A two-beat drum and scratchy guitars in tremolo mode provide the fodder for Dr. Von Hellreich’s ghoulish voice. In other words, the type of black metal you’ve heard a million times in the last two decades. But a brief sigh is all you need before the band entice you into a deeper analysis, which means they must have something interesting to offer. Glimpses of melody pour through the distortion like rain drops through a leaking roof. You can hear majestic keyboards muffled behind the guitars. Lt. Wardr’s double-kick eighth notes are as raw as the footwork from the thrash bands of the 1980s.

Of course, the guitar tone is horrible, and not in a malevolent way. ‘Wildkatze’ sounds like a thirteen-year-old kid playing through a 10-Watt amp. Of more interest is the use of drum snares that cannot decide whether they should imitate electronic beats or the percussive sounds of a kitchen pot. The lo-fi production might give them credibility in black metal circles, but the listener is the main loser in this. Metal is supposed to crush you with its intensity. There’s nothing intense about a dry-throated rasp transplanted on top of a sedate mix of guitars, bass and drums. In what way is this experimental or daring?

The electricity levels are dangerous in ‘Huldergeist’ as if they’ve connected a generator to a wall socket. Thankfully, you can hear the blast beats rather than the hi hats when they get in gear. Dr. Von Hellreich chants his way through the verse parts with credible backing vocals in tow. A rare restart at 04:10 promises a new wave of violence and pushes the decibel meter as high as it can go in a nasty blanket of noise. But why does it sound so demotivated? Slagmaur could play this live in auto-pilot mode, and nobody would be any the wiser. A bellowing choir of radiant female charm at the end is as close to experimental as it gets

Fortunately, ‘Hexen Herjer’ takes some of this impulse to shower the macabre noise with glistening piano melodies. Eliminate the atrocious guitar tone from your mind, and it’s a fascinating song. You can even identify a drum groove among the Beetlejuice posturing. The vocal incantations titillate in the full glory of the German-language family with Slagmaur’s chief conjurer joined by a child choir (presumably sampled). Is this a black metal nod to ‘Another Brick in the Wall?’ by Pink Floyd. Its sinister brilliance is not in doubt, which leaves you wondering how much better this album would be with more material like it. To be fair, ‘Warlok’ has its moments as well. It could even be transformed into a militaristic industrial metal song if they fattened the amp gain and raised the imperious rock beat in the mix. As the darkest effort on the record, the repeat listening value is high. Can you feel your Adam’s apple protruding as your shoulders tense for a formal parade in front of your superior officer? A surprise change of tempo at 04:53 to a ritualistic beat leaves you guessing where it might go. The answer is off into the sunset on horseback with death and destruction waiting ahead of you.

Marduk’s black metal fury provides the path to annihilation in closing track, ‘Rathkings’. You can’t accuse them of easing off at the end, and seven minutes and forty-nine seconds of mine-drilling would be a good way to lose the listener’s interest. That’s why Slagmaur deserve a modicum of praise for concentrating on a ghastly wind and a howling midnight atmosphere rather than a simple speed of sound operation. Unfortunately, too much of the action on this LP is nostalgic for the glory of the 1990s when Norway ruled the metal underground.

Kirk Houghton


Verdict