Black Sea of Trees - The Spiritual Beast

Angry Metal Guy

Our promo sump feels piled these days, a good thing! And, it may be my attention to these distinctions that has grown over the year that I’ve now been with AMG, or it might just be the world we live in, but the independent release sub-pool seems to be growing drop by drop every day too. This fledgling, self-guided troupe, who funneled from afar to Australia, hasn’t even yet landed on the Encyclopedia Metallum (though they qualify),¹ but they’ve graciously given us 2.4 gigabytes of WAV files to review for their debut outing The Spiritual Beast. Dark, moody, proggy, this 70-minute opus unleashes knotted twists, cool-handed ambience, and fanciful rhythms to pin your ears for slaughter. But post-maceration, will you return for more?

Hot on the heels of fellow countrymen Ne Obliviscarisߵ newest release, these ripe-for-rut bucks have much to prove when it comes to crossing horns in the extreme progressive metal arena down under. Despite sporting similar influences like the lilting sorrow of Opeth (“Possession,” “Ghost”) or the hypnotic, wandering rhythms of Tool (“Company of Corpses,” “The Spiritual Beast”), Black Sea of Trees prefers to take the road hidden by sunlight rather than the road carved through the stars. Again in comparison to NeO, Black Sea of Trees vocalist (and guitarist) Samuel Exton (ex-Harlequin) alternates between a nasally alt rock croon and harsh screams but with a catch—Exton leans on a creaking inhale technique that has a unique output.² Inhales can produce some wild sounds, like many a deathcore pig squeal or the inhuman screeches that famed vocalist Kyo (Dir en Grey) summons. Exton doesn’t do these things, but the technique still plays off well, though it can be an acquired taste.

Like any well-planned progcept album, Black Sea of Trees establishes a handful of waning and melancholy motifs, but over the extended run time of The Spiritual Beast, the journey feels less of an excursion and more of a recursion. The first movement works to build up a strong, grooving momentum that tops itself off with the dutifully morose “Ghost.” However, the following one-two hallucination of “Witching” and “Over the Dunes” sucks away nine minutes of motivation with little to show but a few spooky croons and gentle, if beautiful, guitar textures. That detour feels especially gratuitous when band brings some of the occult whispers and backing drones more effectively into the more exciting titular track. Black Sea of Trees grows their necromantic atmosphere best with throbbing riffs and post-rock swells that, well, swell well (“Possession,” “The Demon’s Name Is Mine”). And though “Fire, Flesh, Sand & Self” does the latter with an Anathema-like grace in build, the song does little more tied to the wispy closer than the pair (“The Demon’s Name is Mine,” “Contended Heart”) that came before it—twelve minutes more to make the same musical points.

In the way that Black Sea of Trees has chosen to build an offering that demands time and space, The Spiritual Beast claws against at atmosphere and aggression in equal but unfitting measure. The tracks that could be the most driving often have additional segments at the end that serve as interludes to songs that don’t need interludes (“Domination,” “Over the Dunes,” “The Spiritual Beast”). Frustratingly, these guys do know how to delivery a lower fluff experience, as the first three songs proper—”The Pursuing Darkness” boasting the best lead work on the album, in fact—start things off with a promise of progression. Unfortunately, though, in its fulfillment of a spiritual quest I feel these thirteen tracks lose sight of the focus that could have encompassed more of the experience.

Whether we call this ‘dark’ progressive metal as the band claims or the unwieldy synthesis of alternative rock, post-rock, progressive metal with harsh vocals that it is, The Spiritual Beast drags a marathon of its runtime. While the tease of this brand of moody prog typically has me foaming at the mouth, the scent of this debut lingers, drenched in its superfluous statements. As a debut outing, this release, at least, showcases Black Sea of Trees as a band with an ear for interesting tones, bouncing rhythms, stunning music videos, and care for a detailed soundscape—taking the mix into their own hands, they’ve done a fantastic job. These apprentices of sullen groove, however, have not yet conjured a good album.



Rating: 2.0/5.0
DR: 7 | Format Reviewed: PCM
Label: Self Release
Websites: blackseaoftrees.com.au | blackseaoftreesofficial.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/blackseaoftrees
Releases Worldwide: March 25th, 2023

The post Black Sea of Trees – The Spiritual Beast Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.