Mixing doom metal and noise rock was prevalent in the mid-2000s—when classic Amphetamine Reptile had as much cultural cachet as classic Earache—but it is somewhat of a relic even now. However, this is the mode of Portland’s Norska, who are mostly known as a side band for YOB bassist Aaron Rieseberg, which is why their recording history is sporadic. Too Many Winters, their second full-length following a split with Fister and a self-titled record, isn’t rife with reinvention, yet still shows Norska as a capable band who wield from familiar—and a few not-so-familiar—sources.
Both YOB and Norska are adept in stretching their energy out through spaced out, hammering thrusts. The doomier tracks that comprise most of the album are as potent as the more raging “Samhain” and “Eostre.” If anything, “Samhain” is where spindly guitar patterns and crushing doom coexist best with each other, especially in its first verse riff that’s weighted enough to roll with Portland’s Orange-Amp orators, yet flexible to bend into something more jangle. Winters’ key strength is that it doesn’t overstay its welcome; those 37 minutes fly by even by doom standards. Its economy is necessary—had they leaned even just an inch more towards the doom side, it would be too plodding, too lost. Even when they turn nearly ambient in the middle of closer “Fire Patience Backbone,” it doesn’t detract from the flow. When they come tearing back in towards the end, it’s all the more furious.
Norska takes cues from ’80s power and doom metal that aren’t immediately evident, but are enough to set them apart. Jim Lowder’s voice soars towards the end of “Samhain,” and combined with backing vocals, it sounds like Manilla Road arranging gang vocals. Expansive yet rough-edged, it elevates what is normally a stylistic tribute to a past not that long ago, while still grounded enough to not conflict with their more earthbound rawness. Even before Lowder’s vocals kick in, the guitar on “Samhain” turns from Jesus Lizard-worship into more classic Thin Lizzy leads, interlocking melodies that lift spirits. In the title track and “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” Lowder morphs his roar into a bellow, and with an airier guitar when he does so, Norska turn into Candlemass recorded from a distance. While Norska is mostly known in relation to YOB, Lowder carries most of the weight on here, motioning different directions with his vocals. Among bands of this style, cribbing from Neurosis is so common that taking influence from more traditional metal is actually refreshing.
If metal was increasingly multifaceted nearly a decade ago when it came back into critical prominence (and it always has been, even with a few dominating bands), it’s even more so now. Norska’s particular band has been swept away by an increased focus on death metal, less clear-cut forms of experimentation, more traditional ’80s revivals, and even synthwave bands with legit claims to metal. Winters may be a bit behind the times, but it’s well-executed enough to starve off any lingering nostalgia for Scion Rock Fest.
