(Andy Synn has a new favourite artist/album he needs to share with you, in the form of Norna)
The phrase “Post Metal” is one of those genre terms which doesn’t necessarily have an agreed definition.
Some people use it to refer mostly to what are, in essence, Post-Rock bands who’ve decided to use certain more metallic elements (usually meaning a more heavily distorted guitar tone along with the occasional burst of blastbeats) while others reserve it for bands who exist on the more atmospheric end of the Sludge/Hardcore spectrum (most of the big names in the scene started out like this, for example).
For Swedish trio Norna, however, their approach to “Post-Metal” is all about attempting to refine things down to their raw essence, beneath and beyond the flashy technicality and mindless machismo so often still associated with the genre, to achieve the Platonic ideal of pure auditory weight and distortion-driven emotion.
And while their debut didn’t quite manage to achieve this – admittedly impossible – task, the band’s self-titled second album comes closer than most to achieving artistic apotheosis in molten metallic form.
Make no mistake about it, Norna is the sort of album that starts off heavy – opener “Samsara” dropping the hammer immediately with its dense, doom-laden riffs and gargantuan, gut-churning rhythms, all infused with a tense, anxiety-inducing atmosphere which gives even the occasional moments of restrained reflection a bleak and menacing air – and then somehow keeps on finding ways to get heavier as it goes.
It’s not just the sheer sonic mass of the band’s groaning, gravity-distorting guitars that makes this such a heavy album though – of a certainty there have been artists and albums who’ve pushed things even further in their own way – it’s the crushing weight of anguish and despair which bleeds through each and every song (something which shouldn’t be too surprising when you learn that vocalist/guitarist Tomas Liljedahl previously cut his teeth in bitter Metal/Post-Hardcore bruisers Breach).
Even the more melodic touches which pierce the choking gloom during tracks like “Ghost” and “Shine By Its Own Light” – the former also slowly shedding it’s more polished Post-Metal skin and edging closer and closer towards the harsh noise vibe of Liljedahl’s former outfit as the song goes on – do little to alleviate the suffocating sense of pressure the trio have cultivated on this album, with what little light these fleeting moments of melody let in only making you more and more aware of how confined and claustrophobic things are.
And while obvious references to the holy trinity of Neurosis/Isis/Cult of Luna can be made (particularly the early work of the latter band, back when their meaner, more Hardcore-influenced roots were more apparent) the gloomy hooks and oppressive percussive patterns of songs like “For Fear of Coming” and “Shadow Works” remind me just as much, if not even more, of the dearly-departed Ghost Brigade, only darker, nastier, and more visceral in nature.
That being said, while the above comparisons are neither unwarranted nor unwelcome – and references to the likes of Old Man Gloom or LLNN wouldn’t be unreasonable either – Norna are more than capable of standing on their own six feet here, with massive final track “The Sleep” pushing things into even heavier, harsher, and more eerily haunting, territory as the group continue to strive, with almost Sisyphean effort, to strip their sound down to its most elemental, fundamental form.
It’s an endless, thankless task, that’s for sure, but it doesn’t seem like the band are going to be stopping any time soon in their endless struggle towards this unachievable, impossible goal.
But, then, that’s why I love them.