Novarupta - Marine Snow

Angry Metal Guy 40

The ocean acts as a metaphor for the the mind’s transition from light to dark, knowing to unknowing, reality to irreality. For Novarupta‘s songwriter and leader Alex Stjernfeldt, former bassist for The Moth Gatherer, the ocean is reflects a dismal acceptance of a depressed state of mind. It appears to uphold every solemn twist and turn in Novarupta‘s music. “The violent waves swallow us, and I welcome the end” moans Stjernfeldt above a fragile cascade of blackened sludge slowness. Stjernfeldt has made his struggles with depression explicit in interviews. With Marine Snow, Novarupta’s second full-length after 2019’s Disillusioned Fire, Stjernfeldt reaches into the deeper recesses of thought, using the impenterable expanse of of the ocean to guide his forlorn musical forms.

Expansiveness is attempted throughout Marine Snow. I’m reminded of Cult of Luna and Julie Christmas‘ 2016 collaboration Mariner, Amenra‘s Mass VI and, a less obvious comparison, Triptykon‘s Melana Chasmata when navigating Novarupta‘s steadily bubbling vastness. Novarupta have a lot of work to do to match the excellence of the three records referenced. In all three there’s are a absorbing variety in the streams of sound that interlace and work together with fluid excellence – all have a depressive, wistful and vulnerable tone that is carried through a variety of vocal expressions; all have a crushing binary, too, a heavy release of crushing waves in the form of tumultuous guitar noise and vulnerable vocals. Novarupta attempt to borrow more from the wistful and vulnerable realms. Stjernfeldt relies on a revolving door of guest vocalists to lend their talents to the record. For the most part, vocals carry a similar tonal theme – a soft warble, of sorts, that reverberates around the mix with a bodiless essence. Frequently, too, female vocals from Lea Amling Alazam (“Trieste”) pirouette around chunkier riff patterns that carry a post-metal mechanical feel. Chunky guitar riffs, simplistic bass lines and sparse drumming sounds unappealing when described on paper, but in Marine Snow this uniformity allows for smaller textural elements – melodic guitar licks that echo through a simmering mass of noise, nautical bleeps, ocean noises – to take to the fore. Marine Snow is a record that puts vocals at the fore, to its detriment however.

It takes 21 minutes and three songs for Marine Snow to break free from the jetstream at the lighter heights of the ocean and descend into darker depths of unknowing. “No Constellation” is the first appearance of death growls (courtesy of Inter Arma‘s Mike Papar) and more aggressive instrumental surges. Whereas the opening three tracks merged into one, the appearance of “No Constellation” is a dynamic change the record needed. Unfortunately, it fails to evoke a sense of cathartic release, in my mind at least. That’s my issue with Marine Snow as a whole. It sounds like a blue print of a strong post-metal, blackened-sludge, post-whatever record; this is bare-bones without the magic, the extremity, cast atop the body being formed. The majority of Marine Snow feels like a build up that lacks tension and amounts to nothing.

There are many moments that sound emotionally heightened. Take “11°22.4′N 142°35.5′E” that features expressive clean vocal inflections and loud/quiet riff dynamics aplenty. On the surface it sounds affecting but when listening to the movements of the piece nothing really sticks. When the track actually does seem to move from its placid groove – drums kicking up a notch into overwhelming blasts – the record comes to an end. Finis. My distaste for the record also applies to a mix that shines and shows off vocals but drags everything else through the mud. Riffs that are supposed to be crushing sound watery, weak – take the surging chugs of “Trieste” that should rattle through the brain like a drill but instead carry through like a light breeze. Similarly, bass lines bubble in the distance, trailing the pack. The drums – especially audible in the opener “Every Shade of Water” – lack punch and drive, sounding like wet slaps of sodden sand. It shouldn’t be the case that I have to turn my speakers up to a deafening 11 to experience a degree of bone shake.

I want to be driven into the ground by post-metal. I want my innards outwards and the outer world inside. I want to feel dread and rapture. I want to be transported to another world. Unfortunately, Marine Snow‘s flaws keep me rooted in this dismal reality, keep me thinking of tedious everyday quibbles. I’ve listened to many releases in 2020 and, the nature of listening to so many, means that some will fade into a vortex of the forgotten. There’s too much out there now and a listener’s knowledge of that makes us be selective, perhaps too selective, in what we’re looking for. The holy grail is choked by Neptune’s might.

Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Suicide Records
Website: facebook.com/novaruptaband
Releases Worldwide: November 13th, 2020

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