Yellow Eyes - Immersion Trench Reverie

By Justin C. I've always had an interesting listener-band relationship with Yellow Eyes. I jumped on board with their 2013 full-length, Hammer of Night, but not without some resistance. It's entirely possible I'm developing synesthesia

By Justin C.


I've always had an interesting listener-band relationship with Yellow Eyes. I jumped on board with their 2013 full-length, Hammer of Night, but not without some resistance. It's entirely possible I'm developing synesthesia, but Yellow Eyes' sound is abrasive in an almost physically tactile way. Describing metal music often involves figurative physical descriptions of head-snapping and gut-punching, but Yellow Eyes sometimes seems like they're trying to scrape the outer layer of my epidermis off. I resist it at first, sometimes finding it a bit too hard to listen to, but then I end up listening to each new album 17 times in a row.

And that remains true on their new album, Immersion Trench Reverie. I really loved Sick with Bloom, which our own Mr. Sunyata described thusly: "Whorls and eddies of dense melodic alchemy evoke the nofucksgiving of Weakling, while skirting the esoteric inhumanity of Krallice." That certainly applies to Immersion, and I'd have a hard time topping that description, but I'll see what I can do.

Immersion Trench Reverie lacks some of the immediacy that I felt with Sick with Bloom, but that's not a knock on either album. Immersion is dense, dissonant, and difficult, but every time I thought I might take a break from it, I felt pulled back. I started to crave that low-fi-but-not-really esthetic, scratching an itch somewhere in my brain. I needed to hear the contrapuntal riffs that open up "Shrillness in the Heated Grass," punctuated by Will Skarstad's pained shrieks. Or the quiet acoustic instruments that open "Blue as Blue," only to give way to layers of distorted guitar I'd call "lush" if they didn't retain so much of their harsh edge.

The visual imagery invoked by the song titles and lyrics are another fascinating facet of the music. The album title brings to mind the trench warfare of World War I (when the term "trench foot" came into use to describe the horrible damage done to the feet of soldiers constantly standing in cold water), while "Velvet on the Horns" of course brings to mind deer shedding the fuzzy outer coating of their horns--often by scraping them against trees--in preparation for rutting season and stag battle. "Velvet" was the only song I had lyrics to at the time of this writing, and the lyrics manage to be evocative and oblique at the same time. The song opens with the stanza

Overnight
Or was it not
Green ragged cloth had fallen
On the path
The way I took had velvet on the horn

Certainly sounds woodsy, but the later lyrics go in almost a suburban direction:

Imagine that a propane tank
When squarely struck
Becomes a bell
Yet huddles by the driveway in the cold

Why do I suddenly have melancholy feelings for an anthropomorphized propane tank? What is this black metal witchery?

Kim Kelly summed up Sick with Bloom in her 2015 year-end list as simply "The future of American black metal." I agree wholeheartedly, and that makes Immersion the beguiling next step into that promising future.

Short and to the point 6

By Atanamar Sunyata. [Over at his blog Mindful of Metal, Mr. Sunyata writes dense little poems in exaltation of metal, then cleverly disguises them as metal reviews. The format fits perfectly for our Short and to the point column, so here's a roundup of albums from a year ago, or so, that we didn't get around to cover.

By Atanamar Sunyata.

[Over at his blog Mindful of Metal, Mr. Sunyata writes dense little poems in exaltation of metal, then cleverly disguises them as metal reviews. The format fits perfectly for our Short and to the point column, so here's a roundup of albums from a year ago, or so, that we didn't get around to cover. From Khthoniik Cerviiks to Gygax, let Atanamar guide you to what is best in life.]

Artwork by Khraâl Vri*ïl

A gem of extreme artifice. Pleasing, perplexing death-black oddity. Voivod vaulting The Chasm, or Atheist genuflecting in the Chapel of Ghouls. Elastic and intricate. Loosely woven, elusive threads bound by a knot of riffs most mighty. Much more compelling than their demo; a tall order.

Single-minded savagery. Beastly death-drone minus the murk. Charismatic, guttural ravings rife with murderous intent. Dense, hyperblasting epiphanies writ in guitar tones most meaty.

Artwork by Orion Landau.

A tremendous album. A skillful sidestep of the immutable tech-death template. Strong whiffs of Death and Cynic whipped to admirably stiff peaks. Less interstellar circus, less fucks given. Equal measures creativity, subtlety, and heaviness that feel timeless. Warmer, more introspect, more sprawling. Leads and solos that beg for hyperbolic adjectives and your best air guitar. Their finest hour, methinks.

A revelatory blaze of light amidst a bleak black metal desert. Rides a bolt of Cascadian lightning, but does the deed without sycophantic intent. Whorls and eddies of dense melodic alchemy evoke the nofucksgiving of Weakling, while skirting the esoteric inhumanity of Krallice. An organic outburst of utter chaos, with a feeling of uncalculated necessity. An inexorable undertow, a bullseye of atmosphere and riffs, a no-mercy killing.

Unabashed heaviness of the auld school, executed with charismatic aplomb. This is how I want my straight-up heavy metal served, but modern purveyors consistently disappoint. Gygax roll a natural 20, threading the needle of impossibly compelling mojo. More Thin Lizzy than Maiden, more rocking’ than a sack of Deep Purple socks. Vocals more earnest than Mike Scalzi, less operatic than Russel Allen, somehow perfect. Righteous riffs, songwriting, fucking Dungeons & Dragons. What is best in life?

Yellow Eyes - The Desert Mourns

Written by Sean Golyer.


Yellow Eyes lay before us a desert landscape washed in starlight and drenched in gore. The atmosphere is heavy and the mood is unsettling. My eyes dart across a scene of surreal self violence.

A man throws handfuls of his blood.

I’m fixated now and can’t turn away. A primal urge within me keeps me listening. Keeps me watching.

Red yawns widen and splatter; He spreads his belongings on the sand.

The Desert Mourns is one of those rare pieces of art that has moved me in a way that leaves me at a loss for words. I’m at once excited to share it with others without really being able to conjure up the right words to describe it. On its surface Krallice may seem like an apt comparison, but that doesn’t serve this band justice. If you’ve enjoyed either of their past two albums chances are you’ll enjoy this EP. And yet something feels different about this release; something darker and more mature that drew me in immediately. Their ability to catch me off guard and sweep me into their twisted, chaotic world grows ever stronger. The Desert Mourns is a testament to their mastery of storytelling and songwriting. I yearn for more.

[Go to the post to view the Bandcamp player]

Yellow Eyes - Hammer of Night

By Matt Hinch. Caught in a deathlike silence, the night is still. Gently falling snow lays down a bed of white amid the darkness. Shadows suck the moon's light from the forest, leaving the division of dark and light stark and definite.

By Matt Hinch.


Caught in a deathlike silence, the night is still. Gently falling snow lays down a bed of white amid the darkness. Shadows suck the moon's light from the forest, leaving the division of dark and light stark and definite. In the stillness a creature cowers against the cold. Hiding. Hiding from the light and the death it brings. For in the shadows it is safe from the prowlers of night, the hunters in the trees or those slinking between them, silent as the night itself. There is small solace taken in knowing death would come swiftly, but the fear is real and ever-present. They are always there. Watching. Waiting. Those Yellow Eyes.

On Hammer of Night, Yellow Eyes evoke those feeling of terror, fear and grace through six searing and dynamic tracks. Pounding drums beat with the frantic pace of a frightened heart. Black metal tremolos soar through mountain forests and glide through the valleys on the wings of majestic melodies. Desperate and raw vocals call on ancient forces to temper the fire that burns inside. The visceral screams buried deep in the mix speak with a barely restrained desire for expression of dreamlike fragments of a more complex whole.

Dramatic songs embody a deep reverence for the hills in which they were conceived and recorded, and by extension the greater majesty of earth's wonders. From the way light falls on the landscape in the face of a setting sun, to the bone chilling cold howling through proud pines, every aspect of nature's raw beauty is represented. Danger and darkness, light and longing, fear, forgiveness, cold and warmth, heartbreak and healing are all there in the careening riffs and undulating melodies.

Through the seething might of USBM, Yellow Eyes recognize our need to respect that which nurtures us instead of being a blight upon her surface. Humanity; a festering sore consuming the life giver unchecked.

The Hammer of Night falls heavy in the forest leaving a hole into which the listener is swept in the lightless cold of night. It beckons to be explored only to swallow whole those who dare enter its embrace. There are Yellow Eyes down there in the darkness and they are calling to you with a sinister elegance and a feral soul. Heed the call of one of the year's best black metal releases.