Kvelertak - Nattesferd

Angry Metal Guy

Oh, Kvelertak. Five years ago and hot on the heels of their 2010 self-titled debut, it seemed the Norwegian sextet were the subject of every third MetalSucks post, and their wild live shows were the stuff of legend. In a metal scene curdling from years of cvlter-than-thou extremity, the group’s insanely catchy combination of blistering black metal, hooky arena rock, and party-hard attitude not only appeased metalheads with a repressed desire to let loose and rock out, but also broke through to listeners who seldom dipped their toes in the insular metal blogosphere. With great songwriting and memorable riffs, the group’s rise to fame was well-deserved, and at the time they seemed poised to only keep growing.

Always one to sniff out the latest trend, I experienced Kvelertak firsthand during a New York Harbor concert cruise in 2011. In a drunken haze of broken ceiling panels, bloody noses, and sweaty Scandinavian bellyfat, I witnessed a boat get utterly trashed while pounding my fist to anthem after anthem of blackened punk n’ roll. In the aftermath, I lost my new Warbringer shirt but gained a wispy-eyed appreciation for the group – one that wasn’t stymied until 2013 Roadrunner Records debut Meir. The record was just as its translation suggested: ‘More.’ As in, ‘more of the same, but not quite as good.’ Coupled with a far less rowdy live performance I attended that same year, I was inclined to believe my Norwegian punk idols were another promising group that burned out too quickly.

Fortunately, third album Nattesferd (‘night traveler’) is a different beast. Rather than attempting to reclaim the punked-up aggression of the debut, Nattesferd sees the group dialing things back in favor of more relaxed, colorful hard rock. In fact, other than opener “’Dendrofil for Yggdrasil” – whose searing blasts and faintly cheery tremolos sound like the band’s last-ditch attempt to get re-listed on Metal-Archives – there’s little here that resembles black metal at all. ‘Sell outs!,’ you cry? Thing is, it works.

Rather than toning themselves down in a bid for commercialism, Kvelertak instead sound like they’ve made the shift out of sheer inspiration. Take first single “1985,” an afternoon joyride of mid-tempo beats, breezy leads, and Sunset Strip power chords culled from Van Halen’s playbook. It’s terrific, and while frontman Erlend Hjelvik maintains his signature throaty rasp throughout, that’s the only vestige of extremity in songs like “Odskapens Galakse,” whose steady beat is built off what sounds like a lost Sisters of Mercy guitar-line.

With three guitarists, it’s a shame solos aren’t more common, but the stylistic diversity more than makes up for it. Early highlight “Nattesferd” builds off a vintage bass intro and terrifically fuzzy Queens of the Stone Age melodies before the airy clean vocals of the refrain, while “Bersekr” goes straight speed metal with its divebombing main riff and galloping rhythm. “Svartmesse” begins with a progression that sounds inspired by Lynyrd Skynyrd before moving into a clean/harsh vocal pairing that hearkens back to the debut, while “Bronnesgard” punctuates its pounding measures with shouts of “hey!” and “whoo!” along with lively guitar trills.

Some problems from Meir still remain – namely, the group sometimes plays ideas a bit beyond their ideal lifespan. Aforementioned “Yggdrasil,” “1985,” and “Odskapens” all feature extended instrumental outros that feel pointless, while “Nattesferd” probably didn’t need a full two-minute intro. Additionally, the eight minute behemoth “Heskebrann” and the Happy Meal-sized Electric Wizard riffs of closer “Nekrodamus” – while both good tracks – may have found better homes elsewhere in the track order, as ending the record with two relatively sluggish songs feels less like a victorious sprint across the finish line and more like Ron Jeremy waddling around with a loaf of bread shoved up his ass.

While Natteferd’s production is a bit flat, the mix is solid, and the vintage guitar tone and plump bass are a welcome fit for the record’s feel-good, summer cruising vibe. While not a perfect record and certainly not a complex one, it’s packed with great moments, and feels refreshingly comfortable and genuine. Ultimately, while trading the gut-busting viscera may have drawn the band further away from a ‘metal’ tag, it also may be just the deal Kvelertak needed to make to keep listeners – and themselves – fully engaged. Rock on, boys.

Rating: 3.5/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps Album Stream
Label: Roadrunner Records
Websites: facebook.com/Kvelertak | Kvelertak.com
Releases Worldwide: May 13th, 2016

The post Kvelertak – Nattesferd Review appeared first on Angry Metal Guy.

Pitchfork 80

Before Metallica basically turned metal into a speed-racing contest, older acts like Accept, Raven, and Metal Church had already embraced fast tempos while keeping one foot planted in what we once called metal but now look back on as traditional hard rock. Sonically speaking, these bands formed a kind of connective tissue between the poofy-haired stuff and the more aggressive styles that arose in part to purge the genre of its focus on backstage hedonism. If they referenced the rock'n' roll lifestyle, though, they tended to do so with a tough-guy attitude, as if partying, sex, and cars weren't the ultimate endgame but the reward for sticking to one's guns and making METAL an all-caps priority for life.

When you hear the modern-day Norwegian sextet Kvelertak ("stranglehold"), it's obvious that they're aiming for the same middle lane as their proto-thrash predecessors. But Kvelertak also embrace the let-the-good-times-roll side of metal as well. (For the record, the band describes itself first and foremost as "rock and roll.") And even though frontman Erlend Hjelvik sings entirely in Norwegian, Kvelertak's third album Nattesferd is so thoroughly crammed with fist-pumping hooks it's easy to get the impression that he's singing about heading out to the highway the whole time. He isn't, but on the first song alone the band manages to marry blast beats to the anthemic power of Van Halen, Dokken, and Judas Priest.

Nattesferd actually covers a lot more ground than Kvelertak's '80s ancestors did, but elements that might otherwise oppose one another blend into the experience seamlessly. Kvelertak's fellow revivalists (the Hellacopters, Bonded By Blood, The Sword, and pretty much any Sabbath-mimicking fuzz-rock band) can be so adamant about faithful replication that listening to them can feel suffocating. By contrast, the overwhelming feeling that comes across with Nattesferd is one of freedom to explore. "Svartmesse," for example, begins with a reverbed, single-string choka-choka-choka guitar line that's initially reminiscent of the Lick It Up-era KISS tune "Exciter" until the song veers into a quintessential New Wave Of British Heavy Metal-style verse. It's hard to imagine such a move in anyone else's hands not falling into either complete camp or embarrassing over-earnestness. In this case, it's fun without making you laugh at—or even with—the band.

The same is true of the production. Both Kvelertak's 2010 self-titled debut and 2013's sophomore album Meir benefited from the touch of Converge guitarist/producer Kurt Ballou, who, no surprise, captured the scratchy edges of the band's sound. This time, Kvelertak chose to produce themselves along with engineer Nick Terry (The Libertines, Turbonegro, Robyn Hitchcock). By contrast, Nattesferd hearkens back to a more vintage rock feel. Still, Terry and the band opt for a crisp, vibrant ambience rather than the boxed-in reverbs that were typical of the early '80s.

The CD booklet includes lyrics, which of course won't be of much use for non-Norwegian speakers. But the text for each song is preceded by a cryptic thumbnail summary. Listeners shouldn't expect to get a feel for what the songs are actually about with introductions like "Odin hangs himself from Yggdrasil for nine days so he can uncover the secrets of the world," "A future of despair awaits us. Resistance is futile," and "A traveler ventures into the strange black night with hopes of finding himself a new home." (The album title means "night traveler.") Alas, Google Translate won't help you determine that either, but with Nattesferd Kvelertak exploit an opportunity to create a sense of mystery. More importantly, they back it up with a group of songs that's virtually filler-free and loses little steam towards the end. Even if Kvelertak didn't mean to re-cast the Norse deity Odin as a Camaro-driving rebel burning rubber down the road, Nattesferd makes it exceedingly easy—and enjoyable—to picture him as one.