(Andy Synn says the new self-titled album from Black Birch is one you need to hear)
Just recently I was chatting online with a bunch of Metal musicians – all far more famous and prominent in the scene than me – about how difficult it’s become, in an age of constant information overload and what seems like an ever-decreasing attention span, to make your band stand out.
Sure, I’ve seen and read all the well-meaning advice about jumping on the latest social media trends, optimising your “content” for platforms like TikTok and Instagram, and so on, but all of it seems so forced and performative and, let’s face it, has less to do with the actual music and is more about turning your band into a “brand”.
Still, there are ways to grab your audience’s attention that don’t involve doing silly dances or otherwise acting like a validation-hungry jackass… and getting yourself some eye-catching artwork is one guaranteed way of getting me to check out your album, at the very least.
And when said artwork (created by Black Birch vocalist/guitarist Gina Wiklund, in this particular case) is accompanied by some absolutely electrifying Black Metal?
Well, then you’ve really got my attention.
Now, it’s worth saying up front that this particular article isn’t going to be exactly like one of my usual reviews… because Black Birch‘s self-titled debut isn’t exactly a normal album, seeing as how it’s actually a collection of twelve tracks originally written and released, one a month, over the course of 2023.
As a result I’m going to approach this one on more of a track-by-track basis than I usually do but, make no mistake, this is still very much an album (and one you really need to hear) despite its unusual genesis.
Kicking off with the pulse-pounding intensity of “Weak”, with its viscerally infectious blend of powerful, predatory riffage and desperate, almost DSBM-adjacent shrieks, Black Birch quickly establishes its impressively cathartic credentials, bleeding both menace and melancholy in equal measure from every coiled chord progression and seething, serpentine tremolo line.
It’s an impressive, not to mention attention-grabbing, way to start things that’s for sure, and “Fallen” then ups the ante even further, its gloomy opening bars giving way to a tumultuous torrent of anguish and aggression – sewn with a series of scintillating melodic hooks (especially going into the second half of the song) – which continues to serve as a showcase for both the duo’s gifted guitar work and their smart songwriting.
“Scour” is, if anything, even better than its two predecessors, combining fire-breathing fury, cleverly interwoven instrumental layers (balancing spiteful distortion and spectral melody with a propulsive, bass-heavy backbone) and an overarching aura of bleak atmosphere in a way which recalls classic Ludicra at their best.
“Soil” then continues this impression, while also adding a touch of Wiegedood-esque vim and vigour to the proceedings, delivering some of the most intense, blast-propelled Black Metal moments of the album so far, after which the short, sharp – but, ultimately, slightly unsatisfying – strains of “Havoc” hit hard but fail to leave much of a lasting impression.
Thankfully the blazing melodic misery of “Wry” swiftly puts things right again, the clever intricacy of the group’s guitar work and their devilishly dynamic songwriting matched in turn by their riotous energy and raw emotion behind the delivery of every scything riff and scorching scream, ultimately culminating in a sombre, brooding outro which serves well as both a finale for the first half of the album and a welcome moment of calm before the second half of this particular sonic storm.
The crackling electricity and thunderous intensity of “Prey” serves as perhaps the harshest, heaviest track on the album (up to this point anyway), never seeming to let up or ease off for even a moment even as it sneaks in some subtle (and sublimely sinister) melodies under the cover of the track’s relentless, riff-tastic onslaught (honestly, the guitar balance on this album, equal parts heavy and hooky, seems to get better with each listen).
The howling darkness and haunting desolation of “Death” then demonstrates that, for all their love of blistering blastbeats and blizzards of biting guitars, Black Birch aren’t averse to indulging both their more atmospheric and/or more melodic impulses when the occasion demands it, bookending its mournfully moody core with an absolutely ferocious opening and an equally furious finale, while its compelling companion, “Birth” demonstrates that, even at full-force, the dynamic duo are still capable of a surprising amount of intricacy and nuance.
Moving into the home stretch, “Desolate” definitely starts off strong – building from its doomy yet ethereal beginning to a stomping, blasting crescendo over the course of four simmering, slow-burning minutes – but its back-half seems to tread water a little, resulting in a song that feels somehow less than its parts, after which “Torn” sees the pair returning to a more straightforward and brazenly Black Metal approach (albeit one which, truth be told, doesn’t quite hit the same heights as some of the record’s earlier eruptions of grim intensity).
Thankfully extravagant eight minute finale achieves on its own what both its predecessors couldn’t fully manage, melding an altogether doomier, more dismal vibe with sudden bursts of blazing savagery, moving from morose, moody minimalism to merciless extremity as the song ebbs and flows with organic, gloomy grace (the only minor disappointment being the way it fades out at the end, rather than reaching a climactic crescendo).
Would I say that Black Birch is a perfect album? Clearly not (you’ve guessed that, right?) as there’s a couple of tracks here which don’t hit the mark as well as the others… but it’s a fascinating, and frequently fantastic, collection of songs whose blend of aggressive immediacy and sombre emotional depth means it has a very good chance of appearing on my list of personal favourites at the end of the year.
And, hopefully, some of yours too.