There lies a special sensation to peruse a shelf of books, for what wonders of magick may be transcribed in ink and paper, bound by leather. Therein begins the journey, from palming the very cover of the book, being entranced by what is veiled, the very scent of its yellowed and brown pages , a testimony to time, leading to very consumption of literature, imbuing the soul within the words where the ink becomes your ocean to traverse into this new realm. The very journey of this invites catharsis into one’s core, an ineffable sensation that can only be experienced.
‘The Nocturnes of Iswylm’ by Stormkeep bottles the aforementioned experience of a universe only witnessed through the passage of words transmuted into sound, but a realm not meant for the flesh but rather one of the soul. Calling upon the symphonic and melodic elements of Black Metal Stormkeep manifests their curse in a similar resonance to such bands as Old Man’s Child and Obtained Enslavement where the use of sound is merely a construct to give life to an obelisk grandiose in its being.
A vehement pulsation takes root beneath the album’s architecture, bursting forth in the shape of the strings. Magick and Arcane speech in sound becomes the very temperature, sweltering like a rabid fever upon flesh, ‘The Taste of Immortal Flesh’ is a track radiating this malefic scorn, through the tonal dissonance, where the production levitates the steel-like, serrated candor to a grandiose aura. But the beauty of the guitars comes naught from its ability to spew a stream of fire in the artery of one’s senses but rather in its language to morph the flame to become a raging inferno to then shift its temperature to where the flames that decimate becomes that which caresses the body and cleanses the mind.
‘Ballad of a Fallen Star’ displays this where the guitar’s essence of sound becomes rigid in texture yet it also unfurls itself in a meandering motion as though it writhes in pleasure to tongue that satiates its fires, mimicking every bend and flow of the riffs unleashed. In a similar vein to the guitar’s dialogue emerges the percussion, exhibiting fervent swagger to its reverberation. A synergy is fostered amongst the two energies, as both weave a different spell yet when combined they straddle the shape formed by each other,where both mimics and guides the motion of each other, riding in ecstasy to a crescendo.
However, the true essence lies naught in the conflagration of musical nuances, but rather the intricacy in taking each note,each echoing beat to then rearranging it into a world that feels lived in, a world where the mind can traverse. An attribute of this displayed through the track ‘Saccharine Subjugation’, takes the form where the guitars soar in a harmonious timbre as the thunderous drum tones shades its aura, like a sunset that transitions to the ink of night where the sky is almost indigo. It is this sensation which entrances the mind to follow this spell,which in turn becomes as natural as water that flows from one’s mouth, this bewitching aura of sound in turn becomes the ink which carves these incantations.
For everything that crawls upon the earth to that which infests the skies, a tongue would have spoken it into existence, every fortress, every brick carved from speech and sound. The vocals transform itself into the embodiment of every spell uttered, giving birth and life into that which is created. ‘Carnal Tapestries of Nailtorn Flesh’ is an attestation to the vehemence commanded through the vocals, yet it is through this vitriol which renders itself to ritualistic cadence. The very delivery and recitation of every word feels as though it is snarled, with lips baring teeth as the eyebrows furrow through that which is recited, as words flow like the rhythmic current of a river, so too does the vocals emanate in its orphic shape.
The senses can be overwhelmed by the myriad of shapes, colors, the sheer force of that which is created right In front of it, for that which is spoken through these sounds become fashioned into thoughts into another’s. But what about the moments where one pauses to let their soul consume each detail, for it is with sombre pauses where we delineate the marvel that unveils itself. These particular moments take root within the synths and the clean vocals, for in turn, they accentuate the foundation laid by the guitars and drums. Tracks such as ‘The Taste of Immortal Blood’ and ‘Imperious Sanguine Eroticism’ demonstrate this whereby they introduce the more intimate moments upon the album, in turn, fusing the senses within the walls of that which was carved in sound. Echoing in an ethereal hue, the symphonic energy becomes the shimmer that bleeds into the obsidian aura, like a cluster of stars that bursts from the blackened artery of the night, both magnifying each other, so too does the the synths act in its splendor. Along the same vein the clean vocals adds a robust demeanor to the composition, for this becomes the elixir that transforms an ember into dragon’s fire, swirling and licking the architecture of the art.
Stormkeep becomes the incantation that bewitches the mind, for through sound, it steps upon virgin soil, and upon this naked realm consciousness witnesses the raising of stone, pillars and citadels that pierce the pregnant night skies; from the winged beasts that inhabit the heavens to the creatures that crawl upon their bellies across the dirt, an entire world is given life. For now the mind intertwines with the very breath that fills this realm of wonder.
