Year Of Metal #029: Wolves In The Throne Room - Black Cascade
Now we’re into serious business. I’ve heard metal albums played more po-facedly than this one, but few have grasped for a sense of import and actually managed to reach it. Wolves In The Throne Room are billed in some circles as atmospheric or even ambient black metal, and while I’m not sure the latter would necessarily apply to this 2009 record, this is definitely a totally different approach to the format that I really appreciated.
What strikes the most - and I suppose this would be in keeping with ambient or minimalist music - is what they don’t do. Aaron Weaver’s drumming, in particular, is so restrained and careful. He throws in the odd fill or full throttle wall-of-sound passage where appropriate, but his playing is so tasteful and considered. On opener “Wanderer Above The Sea Of Fog”, he spends a lot of time just tickling the ride cymbal. In the opening 6/8 passage, he’s downright swinging.
He brings more of a thump to the multifaceted high point “Ahrimanic Trance”, going all out like a hardcore drummer for a spell, driving the pace of the song. This one’s all about the guitars, though, which are absolutely lush. Aaron’s brother Nathan handles these duties with Will Lindsay, but you could be convinced there are a dozen axe handlers in the studio. The overdubs must be remarkable; it’s all about the texture, which is so thick but precise, too. Randall Dunn co-produces with the band - he’s worked with a lot of interesting metal acts like Sunn O)) as well as the darker side of indie, and it shows - there’s no boxing this record away, there’s something for everyone with a tolerance for death screams (which add their own crunch to the texture of the track).
“Ex Cathedra” is probably the closest to what I’d imagined I’d be getting from an ambient metal album. There’s nothing ambient in the classical term when it comes to music with the jaggedness and harshness of Black Cascade, but the band’s ability to latch onto a brief segment of a song and wring out everything imaginable from it. It’s reminiscent of My Bloody Valentine to an extent. They find something close to beauty in these oceans of harsh, heavy sounds.
Closer “Crystal Ammunition” pulls the whole lot together in just over 14 minutes. We’re back to that dense, swingtime sound before dropping into some clean, pretty guitar playing. It’s a false sense of security, though, as the record’s most aggressive passage quickly follows. Finally everything is swept away but a resonating, flange-drenched chord. It’s a super satisfying way to see off a record of genuine ambition and vision.
