One of the most alluring experiences that is often overlooked is the submerging of the mind into written works, be it the woes of man experienced in this life or the triumphant battles won upon the flight of dragons. Whatever construct it may take, to truly divulge the sense between a crooked spine and yellowed pages may in turn usher the consciousness into worlds the imagination may never fathom, to live lives that were not ours, yet we feel every length and breadth of their existence, as though they live beneath our skin.
‘Scouring the Shire…’ by Shelob transfigures the yellowing of pages turned by my hands into a sound that matches its physicality, where the faded ink is transmuted into caustic vibrations, and from the magick that resides in the confines of old school Black Metal, an epic tale in sound is manifested. Resonating in the same spirit as those who came before, such as Darkthrone, Moonblood, and even Bezaliel, Shelob takes the primitive soul of these sounds and fashions their own tale as engrossing as the fingers which hold the book to which they belong.
The EP as a whole transforms the setting as though it were recorded live, fostering a physical feeling where every tangible facet of the instrument can be felt, from the tautness of the strings to the density of the drumming. It is one thing to render unto art a lo-fi aesthetic. At times, it may seem like a facade, to merely adorn a Black Metal mask. However, Shelob instead uses this aura to their advantage, for the voyage of an epic tale is transmuted into sound, stripped of any gleaming properties. Conversely, what remains is for the senses to lay their body upon the contours of melodies and reverberation, as if to fit their shape into the crevices, to feel the jagged edges of its creation, the dried earth, and to press one’s hand against the floor, feeling every beat that pulsates.
Transformed are the guitars, adopting a primitive approach to their playing, for their melodies carry no vast production to their resonance. Instead, what remains are chords that are dry, thin yet expulsive in their creation. To another, this may seem like a negative, but rather, it is the inverse, for these minimalist properties are arranged in such a way that they draw the senses closer, for the playing doesn’t rely on frivolous techniques. Rather, it is emotions and a mind for epic storytelling which are instead carved into every note that is expelled.
‘Arachno-Tyrant’ demonstrates this, where the strings create a simplistic pattern in the intro, then vault into more frenetic riffing. The cluster of chords combined with the abrasive tone aids in the intimate feeling, as though the mind can feel the steel-serrated sensation of the pick being scraped against the string, the very exhalation of steel on its breath through its picking. Following along the same vein, though its texture carries a crude cadence, the spirit of its energy feels warm in tone, as though you can feel the temperature ascend whenever the solos take form, with the melodies beneath them carrying an incendiary atmosphere.
In essence, the guitars, while employing an Old School Black Metal attitude, never feel like they’re trying to become something of the old, but rather, Shelob hones this arcane energy to fashion melody that communes with one’s thoughts, where through its crude shape, our soul is cast upon its edges, perforating our very selves to feel its motion of language.
In a similar transmission, the drumming adopts an atavistic spirit through the production, as its very shape is constructed in a granular texture. Contrasting against the thin tone of the strings, the drums instead evoke a thicker sound, albeit raw in their delivery, where the reverberation of the sticks against the skins is heard, every gallop, every shimmering clang of cymbals, felt. The title track, ‘Scouring the Shire,’ demonstrates this as the track itself becomes more percussion-centric, shifting between standard rhythmic beats and a more mid-tempo cadence, keeping in synergy with the guitars, by extension, accentuating the strings’ resonance. However, throughout the track and EP, a galloping beat is implemented adjacent to the strings’ melodies.
This particular beat bestows unto the EP its physical feature, for during these structures, you can feel tangible pressure being placed on the actual instrument, from the rattling of the drum kit to the heavy hitting of every beat.
At times, the Black Metal drumming feels as though it is fused with classic NWOBH drumming. This blend magnifies the raw cadence, giving more nuance to the lo-fi atmosphere, as experienced on ‘Flight of Great Eagles,’ which focuses on building up the momentum at a steady pace. The guitars and drums ebb and flow into each other, supporting the rhythmic energy and tempo, then forking into a sporadic melody which evolves into a standard riff accompanied by the same pummeling, galloping motion.
While the production transforms the atmosphere into a cavernous space, one that releases a rancour in its delivery of melodies and beats, the vocals become the spirit which diffuses from this caustic energy and makes it physical within the EP. Resonating in a low, snarl-like demeanor, the vocals feel as though they are a culmination of all the raw elements converging into one being, and their invocation becomes the speech. ‘Dark Moonglow of the Misty Mountains’ showcases the vocals in more of a narrator’s sense, wherein the delivery feels as though it is an apparition, horrid in its shape, that fashions the tale of which the vocals speak.
In the same breath, the keys, as subtle as they are, give a certain mystique to the vocals, as though they become the sparks that trail the wind of a bonfire. In the same vein of physicality as the drums and guitars, the vocals too produce their own grit, as on ‘Arachno-Tyrant,’ where the shaping of the vocals produces a malefic bite to their resonance, where the words hang from every enunciation, dissolving into the air of sound.
Shelob allows the soul to traverse to the depths of that which was written, to let these stories inhabit a world already ravaged and weathered, for when the mind walks along its plane, the senses become attuned to everything that lurks within the darkness, to the very winds that reign above the sky, and through this magick, we no longer witness a story being unfolded. Instead, our being becomes the very essence of it.
