Navigating You Through the Progressive Underground

No artist credited

Style: Black Metal, Dissonant Black Metal, Progressive Metal (Harsh vocals with cleans on the last track)
Recommended for fans of: Krallice, Thantifaxath, Celeste
Country: New York, United States
Release date: 15 October 2013

The early 2010s were a volatile and explosive time for black metal, full of experimentation and change. A decade earlier, bands like Blut Aus Nord, Abigor, and Dødheimsgard were planting the seeds of an uglier, more abrasive twist on the genre; not long after that, Deathspell Omega would blow the scene wide open with their infamous trilogy. Since then, countless groups have tried their hands at the style of dissonant black metal laid down by these titans of the genre to wildly varying success. Many bands have come and gone, lost to the wind, with Castevet counted among them—though not for lack of quality. 

Castevet were a modest three-piece outfit consisting of Andrew Hock on guitar and vocal duty, Ian Jacyszyn on the drums, as well as sharing Krallice member Nicholas McMaster on bass. The style of music played by these three certainly follows in the footsteps of the aforementioned titans but takes a subtler approach to the oddities and complexities that are so prevalent in the genre. Krallice is, fittingly, the main point of reference to be heard on Obsian, though with a shimmering, prettier take on their sound, even dabbling in softer ambient pieces like on the title track. Obsian is an album full of technical marvel wrapped up in a vague, melancholic atmosphere; an ever-unfurling organism that refuses to be fully defined.

“The Tower” introduces the primary style found on Obsian: harmonically and rhythmically dense black metal. Instantly recognizable and distinctly memorable is the psychedelic fuzz of the bass tone of McMaster, who spends nearly as much time providing countermelody and even lead melody as he does laying down a foundational groove. The production—courtesy of other Krallice mainstay Colin Marston—is warm and just hazy enough for the instruments to shine while also providing context for the atmosphere created by their performances. Herein lies one piece of the puzzle that makes the sound on Obsian so unique: the performances create just as much of the atmosphere as the production job does. From the jarring chords at 2:20 in “Cavernous” that seem to spill out of the aether, to the assertive bass line that drops down to the tonic during the intro/chorus riff on “The Curve,” Castevet make full use of the context provided to them through the stellar production job. 

As Obsian continues, it patiently reveals more of its unique strengths, most notably an acumen for intricate songwriting. Castevet are less overtly dissonant than their peers, instead choosing to utilize smart composition and performance techniques to achieve the same effect. The guitar and bass will often play similar arpeggios that are just slightly off from one another, giving an organic off-kilter feel. Unique chord voicings and smart chord inversions are littered throughout Obsian’s runtime that, when paired with its stilted rhythms, give the experience a sense of constantly folding in on itself—like an auditory set of penrose steps. More specifically, Castevet have a knack for finding strong melodic lines and recontextualizing them through harmonic interplay, giving the listener an opportunity to approach the same sections of songs from different angles during repeat listens; look no further than opening track “The Tower” or the back half of “The Curve” for examples of this.

Another piece of Obsian’s puzzle is its bold rhythmic flair, especially when coupled with some of the more idiosyncratic instrumentation choices and drum kit orchestration. Castevet weave in and out of time signatures, extend and cut phrases short, and play with subdivisions, always in a way that is still conducive to just sitting back and instinctively nodding your head. “As Fathomed By Beggars and Victims” is perhaps the best example of this rhythmic quirk: a pervasive 9 against 4 polyrhythm being played on the hi-hat gives the song an unsteady gait, and even the foundational groove shifts depending on how you listen to it, with 3/4 and 4/4 time each being equally valid ways of counting. When put together, the result is a sonic illusion that is not unlike a desert mirage, shifting from afar but coming into clarity when given more attention. This same song is also a good example of Jacyszyn’s clever kit orchestration. The drums drive the song forward, giving the relatively stationary guitar performance much more bite than it would have on its own. Jacyszyn is able to fill in droughts of movement from the rest of the band with precisely tuned toms and flowing fills, and the drum performance can largely be listened to as melodically as the guitars. 

What really ties everything together for Obsian, though, are the subtle details that Castevet incorporates into every aspect of the experience. Acoustic guitars accentuate riffs at opportune times (“Cavernous”) that, while not quite folky, make the performance feel more human and easier to attach to emotionally. Castevet knows when to vamp on a good idea (ending of “The Curve”) but always have some sort of subtle variation to keep it interesting, allowing the atmosphere to consume the listener while keeping the music engaging. Phrases often start with familiar riff structures and harmonic voicings, only to devolve into swirling, gestural approximations of these forms in the second half of the same phrase. A question is being posed: what exactly are the most important aspects of these beloved techniques and tropes? What makes them tick? Castevet probes for answers with a delicate touch, achieving and even exceeding the same standard set by classics of the genre, doing more with less.

Just when you think that Castevet have shown all they have to offer, they pull one final trick out of their sleeve with “The Seat of Severance”, starting with one of the most straightforward riffs yet and marking the only time that clean vocals make an appearance. The choice to forgo harsh vocals completely is a brave one in music as harmonically vague as this, and proves that the music on Obsian is not reliant on familiar textures and cliches; instead, rock solid composition is what carries the sound and makes it a standout experience. While Obsian is certainly dense and full of anxiety, it is not quite as dreary or oppressive as its peers, merely introspective. The run time is short, inviting necessary repeat listens while also justifying its experimentation and occasional ambiance. My single critique of Obsian is that I wish there were two or three more songs to flesh out the experience, though this is just because I can’t get enough of the sound crafted on this forgotten relic. As it stands, the listener is left with the same feeling of finishing an exceptional book or television series, where you sit there in silence for ten minutes thinking… What now?

Well… you hit play again.


Recommended tracks: The Tower, The Curve, As Fathomed by Beggars and Victims
You may also like: Scarcity, Flourishing, Yellow Eyes

Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | Metal-Archives page

Label: Profound Lore Records – Bandcamp | Facebook | Official Website

Castevet is:
– Andrew Hock (guitars, vocals)
– Ian Jacyszyn (drums)
– Nicholas McMaster (bass)


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