We haven’t heard from Old Wainds since 2008, but the Murmansk-based trio remains one of Russia’s greatest musical exports. The port city of Murmansk lies far beyond the Arctic Circle, closer to Finland and Norway than anything else. Its unforgiving climate and overall isolation seems like a perfect breeding ground for raw black metal, and given these frozen surroundings, it’s not difficult to see why Old Wainds’ music has more in common with old-school Scandinavian black metal than much of what their countrymen are currently playing. The band’s approach is thrashy and melodic in equal measure, livening up the tremolo-picked grimness of dyed-in-the-wool Northern European black metal, even as they pay tribute to it. The sound is dynamic, atmospheric, and above all, addictive.
Nordraum, Old Wainds’ fourth album since they formed in 1995, is genuinely catchy and surprisingly listenable; it’s graced with an understated production that lets the ugliness seep through. While earlier material was harsher and more one dimensional, Nordraum remains unrelenting and abrasive without sacrificing finesse. They've managed to stay true to the formula they’ve spent nearly two decades refining. Which isn’t to say it’s the most original record you’ll hear this year: Old Wainds remain the antithesis of trendy or progressive.
The band’s lyrical themes and aesthetic values run far closer to the old traditions, as well, focusing heavily on the Arctic, astrology, and bleakly picturesque depictions of gleaming snow and black moss. Where so many other Russian black metal bands choose to preach hatred and right wing ideology, Old Wainds concern themselves with Slavic mythology, heathenism, and nature. It’s jarring to acknowledge that in their native metal scene the band’s apolitical status is the exception, not the rule, but it’s important to remember that in some places, black metal is still dangerous. (Look up Russia’s Blazebirth Hall collective for ample proof of that.)
Nordraum is their first full-length album to feature English song titles, and save for a 1996 demo and 2003 split with Nav, their only foray into the language. This gives those of us who are ignorant of their native tongue a small, rare glimpse into the band’s inner workings. Despite their far-out titles, songs like “Insane Stellar Race” and “Refracting the Light” owe more to Darkthrone than Roky Erickson, with the violent outpouring of “As Spilled Blood They Sprout” echoing more to the Finnish masters.
There are a few wrinkles. Mini-epic “Stoneweaver” is a marked divergence from the rest of the album with its depressive tempo and pretty guitar work. (The other long song, “Inquiring of Secrecies”, is a straightforward blaster that trips and crawls halfway through.) And “Ascension” opens the album with a few second of ominous synth before Old Wainds unchain the wolves and plunge into the fray. When they do punch in, bassist Kholdogor’s vocals go far beyond the categorical “agonized rasp.” He wheezes painfully, gasping for air like he’s drowning in bile. It’s more desperate than forceful, and finds him sink behind the chiming tremolo like a wounded beast. The guitar work from Morok is sound; it’s not terribly innovative, but it is impassioned, and almost joyous.
This is not a happy album by any stretch of the imagination, but the band’s enthusiasm for the material is apparent. One gets the impression they’ve been champing at the bit to bring these tunes into the world, and have gone about their business with gusto. Eternal “session drummer” Izbor anchors the recording with flair, slipping in more than a few clever ideas amidst his furious assault on the kit. Thanks to his breakneck pace, Nordraum itself flies by so fast that several of the songs blur into one another, and a certain homogenous quality emerges. When all is said and done, it's an excellent slab of traditional-minded black metal with an ear for songwriting. You’ve probably heard it all before, but for those who wish the 2000s had never happened, it should do the trick.
