A couple of weeks of ago a gent by the name of M.Krall sent me a lovely email asking whether I’d be interested in his project Black Autumn – I of course, said yes, and in the back of my mind there was this niggling feeling that I’d heard this band before. Fast forward a few hours and a digital copy of The Advent October arrived and in turn I checked my collection and hey, there was a couple of Black Autumn things there.
Black Autumn has been steadily releasing ever since Krall incepted the band a long, long time ago, although it wasn’t until 2003 that any music was actually put out. Demo upon EP upon full length – the last one I heard was Rivers of Dead Leaves which was released in 2008, but I happened across it on the wonderful bandcamp a year or so ago (incidentally, bandcamp is where M.Krall found a link to this blog and then my email address and the rest is history etc…) – followed at quite a pacy rate and now we have The Advent October to add to a growing collection of beautifully downbeat melancholy.
M.Krall – everything
“The Advent October” begins the EP with gentle passes of acoustic sound that slowly work their way to echoing electric beauty and the introduction of a curiously downtrodden growl that evokes a sadness that hasn’t quite reached the point of total despair…yet. The opening strings of “Dortke Môr” flow with a stately majesty and the riff that courses over the meandering gaze of the musical current underneath is a delightfully catchy as it is bleakly morose, particularly when coupled with more than apt sample from The X-Files episode “Piper Maru.”
“We hear them every day, they talk to us, they haunt us, they beg us for meaning. Conscience is just the voices of the dead trying to save us from our own damnation.”
A sensation of haunting wonder passes through The Advent October and the essence of the more depressive side of black metal filters through the shadows of M.Krall’s voice and his shimmering and climbing guitar work. “Dead As Martyrs March” works it’s way under your skin, pulling at your sense of security and needling at the heart with gorgeous lines of despondency whilst “A Line of Silver Light” takes it’s core from a riff we became familiar with earlier on in the recording. Your memory recalls it, places it’s pain and Black Autumn has deftly dredged sorrow back to the fore whilst giving The Advent October an anguished and hopeless narrative. Captivating.