Review: Kostnatění – Úpal

Style: folk black metal, experimental black metal, dissonant black metal (mostly harsh vocals)
Recommended for fans of: Blut Aus Nord, Deathspell Omega, Mare Cognitum, Melechesh
Review by: Andy
Country: United States-MN
Release date: 26 May, 2023

You’d need a musicology degree to fully parse the influences of Kostnatění: the cutting-edge avant-black metal entity draws from several longstanding music traditions–from microtonal Turkish folk music and African rhythms to classic Western dissonant black metal. D.L., the man behind the music, writes Úpal in order to simultaneously evoke “both the searing rays of the desert sun and the melting of one’s sanity,” and its scorching hot riffs and turbulent writing unquestionably sizzle brightly. I found the band with last year’s stunning EP Oheň Hoří Tam, Kde Padl, and Úpal apotheosizes the already great black metal band to the level of the genre’s gods. Hail Kostnatění, black metal god of the desert. 

While the “folk black metal” tag would typically indicate simplistic timbral explorations into other musical traditions, replete with the same bromidic instruments metal has appropriated for decades, Kostnatění’s deeper, theory-based interpretations of traditional sounds elevate the final product to a new plane. As soon as “Řemen (The Belt)” lurches into being with the sun-baked yet resplendent dissonance of Ars Magna Umbrae, the rhythms contort beyond my understanding in ways foreign to my Westernized musical background. The microtonal guitar–I assume it’s fretless at points if not the whole time–further twists the riffs like a snake slowly drying out in the Death Valley heat. Occasionally, Kostnatění does some interesting timbral variation like at 3:35 on “Hořím Navždy (I Burn Forever),” where the tones sound much more stereotypically Eastern, and these moments are treasures across the album, undoubtedly since they’re not overused. In the midst of numerous moments competing to be the album’s zenith, the endless riffs are somehow both catchy and incredibly abstruse; take, for instance, the riff at 1:38 in “Rukojmí Empatie (Hostage of Empathy),” which mercilessly pummels and even lets the bass in on some of the action, or take the beginning of the extreme, fast-paced “Nevolnost je Vše, čím Jsem (Nausea Is All I Am),” where the riff eerily does the exact opposite of any of my internal predictions. 

D.L. does not miss: every single riff on Úpal is glorious. Elevating the final product are the wonderful transitions between tracks, each song effortlessly flowing into the next while remaining distinct, both in their ideas and riffs. The strengths of Úpal’s writing are so superb, in fact, that they bring to mind the microtonal onslaught of Scarcity’s Aveilut–especially in moments like those horrific siren wails Kostnatění utilizes in “Skrýt se Před Bohem (Hide from God)”–and in both cases, the final product supersedes the individual tracklist. Every scathing, gnarled riff on Úpal builds on the previous one until “Opál (Opal),” a brief oasis respite from the scorching power of the desert, but as soon as the melodic reprisal to “Řemen” kicks off, “Opál” reveals itself as a mirage of sorts, a fake resting place. Each subsequent riff to finish Úpal finds an even fiercer gear after “Opál” lures you into a false sense of security. You will burn during Úpal. As the album increases the intensity and ferociousness until the final moments of closer, “Slunce Svázáno s Krvácející Zemí (Sun Bound to the Bleeding Earth),” my sanity melts away like D.L. wants, leaving me a husk roasting in the Saharan sun for millennia. 

Infrequently, D.L. does misstep, however. While I love the idea of the traditional sounding clean vocals on “Opál (Opal),” I find the vocoder-sounding effect they rely on to be among the least effective experiments across the album. My only other real complaint is at the very end because I wish the final moments of “Slunce Svázáno s Krvácející Zemí” had a more ceremonial climax; instead, the album just kinda disappears. 

Sitting here with my melted brain in the wake of Úpal’s arid splendor, I have a persistent desire to compare the album with Ad Nauseam’s legendary dissodeath debut, Nihil Quam Vacuitas Ordinatum Est. The two albums don’t sound identical nor is the writing style drawing from identical sources for the most part, but both albums foster a similar sensation that you’re watching everything burn–while each respective chamber ensemble dangerously performs on the precipice. Not to mention both albums sound absolutely wonderful. While not much can approach the quality of sound that NQVOE brings to the genre, the mastering job from Mare Cognitum’s Jacob Buczarski really is phenomenal throughout Úpal. He makes the fiery hot black metal sizzle in just the same way as he did on his own stellar opus Solar Paroxysm, and he really lets the guitar parts dominate the sound in an appropriately pleasing way—the harmonies are sublime. On my never-ending search for the most boundary-pushing, provocative avant-garde black metal, Úpal stands out brightly. If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go press replay to evaporate what’s left of my sanity yet again.

Recommended tracks: Řemen (The Belt), Rukojmí Empatie (Hostage of Empathy), Skrýt se Před Bohem (Hide from God)
You may also like: Scarcity, Ad Nauseam, Ars Magna Umbrae (bandcamp), SkyThala
Final verdict: 9/10

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram | Metal-Archives page
Label: Willowtip Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Kostnatění is:
– D.L. (everything)