There are those who paint with colors, words, and sounds. Its final form may be entrancing upon the eyes, but the question always remains: how does it feel? What do you feel? In some instances, the eyes would be inebriated, but the soul would be left insatiable. In sooth, the crux of art resides within its hearth, the energy to connect with the mind and, through its traversal, render unto it an experience that is not of this world.
‘The Unending Vomiting of Northern Blasphemies,’ an EP by Evil Dungeon Crawler, is a testament that within a morsel of time, the mind can be ushered into a new realm, for even if the body is static, the soul will ascend to such an experience. Through the use of old-school Black Metal, with an archaic lo-fi sound akin to such bands as Darkthrone, parts of Carpathian Forest, and also in a similar aura to Heathen Deity, Evil Dungeon Crawler manifests a jewel, bewitching in nature yet crude in its delivery.
A sepulchral energy becomes the transmission that suffuses itself into the atmosphere, for the guitars become the instruments of this invocation, radiating an old-school Black Metal aura reminiscent of Moonblood and even parts of Judas Iscariot. The strings themselves transform the very atmosphere into a tangible force. The churning of the guitars in their expulsion exhibits a staunch, metallic resonance, thin yet fissured. The culmination of their motion, usually taking shape in a haphazard and feverish manner, produces a corrosive tone, as though the contours of the chords become jagged at their edges.
Conversely, the bass tones add a juxtaposition to the guitars through their ‘twangy’ reverberation, contrasting with the thin, razor-like dissonance of the guitar riffing. Both elements amplify each other in a symbiotic manner, where they become to each other sinew and bone. The track ‘Evil Dungeon Crawler’ displays this, for there exists a rhythmic, groove-laden section that relies upon the bass, coupled with the guitars, to produce a boisterous sound, cantering in its movement. This particular swagger is carried throughout the track as well as the EP.
Verily, though its tonal resonance does appeal to that old-school aura, it never concedes to merely being a tribute in sound, for the guitars and bass do much more than simply appear caustic. Instead, they become elements that the mind can feel. Their rudimentary nature is like that of a painting where the colors dry, creating a physical texture through which the fingers can trace where the brushstrokes reside. In turn, this crafts a link between mind and art, where you inherit the conception of its creation through the residue delineated upon its surface.
Therewith, in the same torrent as the strings, the percussion too implements its own form of dissonance. Whereas the guitars evoke a metallic and granular sound, direct and raw in shape, the drumming instead transforms the spirit into a more bombastic energy. A battery of patterns, propulsive in behavior, comes forth. The track ‘Skin Ravaged and Calloused’ attests to this, for though melody exists, the drums instead punctuate the atmosphere and break up the melodious tones in a primitive manner. For example, on the track, the main melody is complemented by the percussion blasting forth with a pummeling energy, therein giving a sense of equilibrium between the two tones at times.
Withal, the production bestows the drumming with its barbaric spirit, giving unto it a cadence that feels as though you can discern the human pressure of emotions being applied to the actual instrument, the very strength exhibited being channeled into each beat, each cymbal crash, and the barrage of percussive notations. As a cohesive work, the guitars act as the lines imprinted into the soundscape, that which you can trace and feel in their nature. Here, the drums become the raised citadel, where each brick is eroded, and from behind its cavernous walls come the echoes that ring forth, ascending to the heavens like a trumpet tearing the firmament asunder.
Within the realm of art, though the eyes discern what stands before them, be it a litany of words or colors strewn together to produce something profound, the mind manifests a voice that latches onto the creation, therein giving unto the work a voice that permeates like its spirit. Upon the EP, the vocals render themselves in a naked fashion, where it feels as though their flesh has been flayed, and what remains are remnants of muscle and bone, a bruised and shattered body. Yet it is the convulsion of pain that causes it to lash out aimlessly, and so too do the vocals in their motion.
The beauty of the vocals arrives in their ability to remain fluid, wherein they thrash against the atmosphere, erratic in movement. This comes forth in their very tone, where the raspy and caustic register perforates the guitar and drum tones. ‘My Lead Coffin (Demo)’ perfectly demonstrates this, as the production transforms the vocals, wherein the snarling of the words, as well as the lower guttural portions, appears more abrasive in its transmission.
However, what is captured is the motion of the vocals, wherein their untethered movement always feels feral by design, as though they are crawling above the instruments like a rabid beast, vaulting above the dissonance as though asserting their dominance.
Though only an EP, Evil Dungeon Crawler has managed to craft an immersive experience both in texture and sound, for at times throughout the listening journey, its architecture of sound feels as though it were plucked from the past and channeled into the present.
Our soul may seek the lands where beauty resides in nature’s design, from the lofty trees that bend against the wind to the tranquility of its lush space, but then there are moments through which the mind wishes to discover more beyond beauty, but its inverse, not the confinements of vanity, but to be connected with that which is rudimentary. The sounds of Evil Dungeon Crawler manifest such a soundscape, weathered in texture and worn, for through erosion, the soul may uncover the beauty of decay from within.
