Magick can often be linked to art, where they both may seem to be conjoined, for isn’t it fascinating, the ability to transmute thoughts into the clay of the imagination and from the hands or the tongue of another, will it into physical form. But there lies the dilemma where there exists those who create husks with the substance of spit, hiding behind a facade, but then there are those whose creation pulsate in synergy with their very soul, so potent that another can almost inherit its spell of sensation.
‘Nocturne’ by Cardinal invokes the sulphuric spirit of Black Metal and from its upheaval of archaic resonance is a curse that possesses the consciousness, for that which is spoken through melody is transcended into a form of catharsis. Sharing a similar lineage of speech to bands such as Limbonic Art and Emperor, to more recent acts as Warmoon Lord and Vargrav, Cardinal carves their sigils and words into this ever expanding grimoire, introducing a new shade of this stygian realm.
When the soul connects with pen and parchment, that which is written, be it a litany of archaic knowledge or the depths of vehemence, once the current’s source is unfiltered, then its creation becomes true in nature. This bleeds into the energy of Cardinal where the symphonic elements permeate, acting as the font of the album’s literature, curling the words, bending and twisting the notes in a cursive motion. ‘Eternal Flames of Hate’ and ‘Infernal Worship’, portrays this whereby the keys expel a Cimmerian aura speckled with an ethereal glow, like the sheen of casted moonlight that separates the ocean from the ink of night, but in an unorthodox cadence, it is this separation which also binds it in unison, granting its unique portrait.Echoing and exhaling in similar tone to a pipe organ, the keys bestows a certain charm to the senses, as though the transmission of these ritualistic notes surround and adorn both body and mind.
If the symphonic resonance represented the shape and depth of the album, then the vocals would be the very incarnation that gifts animation and tangibility to ‘Nocturne’. Working in duality with the keys, the vocals texturize the atmosphere, for it is like the stench of smoke that clings to fabric, with the passing of time, it becomes woven and fused into the actual threads. The timbre of the vocals expresses itself in a raw-sorcerer like register, decrepit yet the intonation of that which is spoken is teeming with primordial knowledge. ‘As Silence Dies’ is an instance where the vocals’ rasps-like quality doesn’t just shade the ambience in Stygian glamour, instead, there is a certain physicality to the motion of language. As though it is not the mouth alone that unleashes this hymn, rather, it is the whole body which forms this dialogue, as though the fingers and knuckles curl and crack, with the spine of the back hunched as the words flow from a serpentine tongue.
As a spell takes form, and from its surroundings materializes to mirror that which is physical, then the strings and percussion would be the very soil that is wrought, the curse of death that strangles the air. Resonating in a galloping yet thunderous shape, the drums commune with the sharp, metallic tone of the guitars, stitching themselves together where each thread can be felt and discerned, yet together they become a tapestry, painting vividly the experience that is unveiled in sound. ‘Duskfang’ showcases this,where the thin-like, iron sound, of the guitars bleeds into the body of the percussions which inturn carves a maledictive pattern, bewitching in sound,and entrancing to the senses, for it is like the acrid aroma of death that curls from burnt flesh upon the pyre, filling the lungs, widening the eyes as the consciousness breaks unto a wave of delirium.
Like the quill that lies heavily on parchment, as the solemnity of every word sinks and indents the paper, let the soul be bare as the invocation of Cardinal carves its liturgy unto the body; let the flesh bare the weight of the spell, and let the incarnadine current that flows from veins be the atrament which stains the curse unto the mind, for that which is casted cannot be unwritten.
