CHANTS REVIEW
CHANTS - ECHOES
I often believe that through the labyrinth that is life, a soul may wish to be free from this endless maze, to find solitude not within these ever-changing walls, the very same walls erected within the core of oneself. For when one peers within, we realize it is not a linear path we walk, but rather, we become the ouroboros, a fate destined to keep repeating itself in a cyclic manner. Yet through resistance, the tail never breaks. Languor grips and tears at the spine, where our very own being feels diminished, feeble, and decadent. Oh, how a soul yearns to neuter that which condemns it to tread the same path over and over, where the mortar that binds the bricks of one’s own labyrinth is the essence from which melancholy and self-loathing originate. For we become the architects of our own minds, yet we build not sanctuaries. Rather, we construct our very own prisons.
“Echoes” by Chants is an album, transforming itself into the entity that speaks to the soul, for unto its sound, the consciousness becomes naked, as though the resonance of that which is spoken traces the very length and breadth of our own existence. Created in the image and sound of Black Metal, where dissonance becomes the sound of descent and turmoil, but also heralds one’s ascension, Chants’ transmission carries an energy similar to that of bands such as Svartidauði, Deathspell Omega, and early Gaerea. However, the sermon of Chants is poured into our own souls, where the chains of our own forging become dissolved, and the further we heed its communion, the more it feels as though our own spirit’s past has shrunk into embers. The deeper we sink into its message, the more divorced we become from ourselves, until we stand separated and bare, yet virulent and stronger.
The resistance we experience when trying to purge ourselves of that which breeds weakness can be a journey in its own right, for it is like rending flesh from bone, only to find that it festers within the bone, down to the marrow, so we scrape at it until the bone becomes bleached of color. The very sensation that comes from realization, to frenzy, to ridding the self of all that is inferior mimics the guitars, where one’s own emotional turmoil becomes churned into sound, and every facet of pain that transcends into liberation is transfigured into every chord, for each note represents the pangs of the fragility of one’s own consciousness.
A cosmic tone propagates throughout the album, where the tonal resonance of the strings becomes the beam of sound that reveals all, illuminating both the soul and its emotions. The guitars adopt an unconventional approach, for even though the standards expected within this style of Black Metal are present, such as the frenetic riffing structures and the coiling patterns, Chants instead uses the instrument to evoke an ambient radiance throughout the album, where the movements of the chords expel a tone that floats with both grace and dread, intoxicating to the senses yet also so gripping that you wish to trace every sound that branches from the guitars.
The track “Chants” displays this notion, wherein it employs a tranquil movement where the guitars stipple the atmosphere in a delicate fashion. Their sound ripples through the soundscape, evolving into a boisterous energy where the tranquil riffs then awaken to lash in different directions, cascading across the atmosphere in their dream-like aura. The transmission of these patterns is rather similar to that of bands such as White Ward and even sections of Mesarthim, whereby the guitar no longer becomes merely an instrument, but rather a living organism where every breath, be it bated or laboured, is translated into sound.
“Reveries,” for instance, showcases the synergy exhibited between the strings and the drums, where, while still painting the atmosphere with their ambience, the guitars break it apart by further shifting their form into a more chugging-like pattern while also injecting airy sounds behind it. These are moments that bleed into the album, but also give room for the other facets to exist in cohesion.
Therein lies an energy that can be found when we undergo a metamorphosis, emerging from our own chrysalis. Perhaps it is fear, anticipation, ecstasy, or the very thought of abandoning that which is familiar. Whatever form it may take, as we draw closer to the being we envision, the echoes grow louder, and the heartbeat swallows us, as though we become its nucleus. The very pounding, like the rhythmic energy of the drums, exists not only within our hearing, but instead possesses all our senses, as though the further we shed our former selves, the more the throbbing sensation can be felt from our fingers to our very lips, from the flesh of our temples to the soles of our feet.
A swelling and tumultuous cadence takes precedence over every beat of the drums, where it almost feels reactionary towards the guitars’ expulsion. Both energies speak in different tongues, yet their speech becomes cohesive even through this dexterity. “Ethereal” becomes a prime example, where the drums play against the static-like dissonance of the guitars, contrasting with it in a pummeling, blunt, yet organic tone.
What is meant by this is that throughout the album, there exists an otherworldly feeling within the aura that permeates, ethereal at times, but also numinous. However, while the production grants that shade, it also renders the drums in a more grounded tone, almost anchoring the album. For instance, the intro of “Noir” showcases this, where, within this short moment, the drumming exhibits varying tonal changes, from more sombre tones to more rhythmic nuances, as though it is gliding, then propelling itself forward to match the intensity of the guitars’ riff structure. But all of this is done in a rather organic manner, as though the drumming becomes the only human constant, the throbbing heartbeat that envelops the spirit, that grows, that pulsates.
Let it be known that though the drumming does exhibit prowess in its execution, its strength transcends that, where instead, the patterns and the coiling passages all become byproducts of the emotional core. In other words, the undoing of our garments, the thrashing and convulsing as they restrict us and refuse to tear at the seams, the crawling and breaking, all of this translates into the echoes of the beating drums.
When we ascend amidst the emotions that beckon us towards our descent, the soul moves upwards, where a firmament separates that which is left behind from the current state we wish to attain. For it is like a body that expels its fluids, ejecting everything to fully purge itself to the point where the pangs of starvation become liberating. But it is only when we are fully drained that we develop new senses. We discern things differently. Even the very Gods for whom we once lit tapers in reverence become obsolete, for now, instead of a God that speaks through us, the only voice that can be heard is the voice of evolution. Like the vocals, the true voice is uncovered, one that is aligned with the concussions, one that acts not as a conduit, for the words that are spoken are owned by the soul, and the soul is owned by them.
Flowing in a torrential movement, the vocals change their appearance to mimic the enunciation of the instrumental elements. For where dissonance exists, the vocals become the speech that is deciphered from its transmission. A caustic texture suffuses the vocal patterns, radiating in an omnipotent motion, as though its energy surrounds the atmosphere, existing between the strings and drums, but also soaring above them. The cadence of the vocals presents itself in a portentous shape through the production, rendering them with a bolt-like energy, where their delivery feels direct yet metaphysical, and where the tongue transforms into a sword. But it aims not to cut the flesh, but instead to pierce that which lies beyond flesh, blood, and bone.
“Hollow,” as a track, presents the vocals in a mirage-like sense, where the production allows them to burrow beneath the instruments, almost camouflaging them amongst the discordance, yet their timbre still becomes discernible, in turn crafting a more abstract experience, as though one can peel back the layers, delineating each element. However, the alluring feature of the vocals comes forth in their apparition-like quality, as exhibited on “Veritas,” where the energy fostered feels not as though it dwells within the stomach of man, but rather as though it communes its power from its own consciousness, its own world. The unification of these transforms the experience into a transcendental one, for it is like a bolt of lightning exploding from the maw, a bolt leeched of color, but imperious in its power.
Friedrich Nietzsche once wrote, “Now I am light, now do I fly, now do I see myself under myself. Now there danceth a God in me.” But the light that resides within, the light that cleanses, comes forth from the gospel of Chants, and from its passages, an oratory is created within the soul, illuminating that which we shun and inviting into its chapel that which we wish to become. And when the consciousness communes in tandem with the effigy, our thoughts take flight, for we ascend beyond our own bondages of our own creation,naught to bend the knee to divinity, but instead, to become divinity ourselves.
9/10
