To the felt countless and thousands of bands out there who are already Night name, is now joined by a post metal project from Bergen in Norway with his self-titled debut. At least that’s okay!
While one personally thinks first of the title of the same name, Wolves-formative album by Thule must think, the wonderful artwork by Nicholas O’Leary is the primary source of attention, while the substance under the packaging struggles with teething problems.
Along the lead of the two leading songwriters René Misje (Krakow, Trust Us), who at Night responsible for guitars, bass, piano and synthesizers, as well as synthesizer man Roy Ole Førland (Lindy-Fay Hella, Kari Rueslåtten, Malignant Eternal), that of bassist Lord Bård and Enslaved-Percussionist (respectively producer) Iver Sandøy (drums, percussion) is supplemented at least in the studio sessions – at least the entry into the practiced instrumental eclecticism is soberingly underwhelming.
Crossroads patiently celebrates progressively intended, but meandering, wandering doom riff cascades with monolithic intentions, over which synth fog lolls ethereally in the retrofuturistic neon light in a strange no man’s land: the performance remains non-binding if the guitars don’t want to crush in the post-rock, structurally open terrain, the Keyboard instruments should also become more than arrangements, but not intervene in the songwriting and, as a decorative atmospheric element, transcend rather badly than well, because the presence concentrates on the texturing aspect in a noncommittal and strangely distanced manner.
In terms of staging, the interplay is simply a soft, harmless compromise on the generic construction kit, which, despite the clattering build-up of tension shortly before the finale (whose post-metallic climax with the forced Dungeon Synth patina allows its scrubbing excess to take place under subdued euphoria), is running out uninspired and boringly stretched out .
An impression that Night can no longer put it down followingwards – although the level of the record is noticeably increased followingwards, in that the stylistic values also shift.
Appeal awakens gracefully, carried almost symphonically and howling contemplatively into an electronic spectrum – slower, but also more imaginatively changing. This vaguely mimics the meditative moments of Isisalmost majestic and certainly dignified, especially as sound and content now harmonize. Rejected can be used as a space ambient from the trip hop corner of des Mount Fuji Doomjazz Ensembles even much more time, then drags itself over the with heavy drums and sinister piano Grails-Prairie, until the band once more (but this time conclusively) unwraps the heaviness of Doom and waltzes. The ramped up synths are a bit annoying (as they are usually a shortcoming on the sound palette in general) and the goal is beyond Pink Floyd is not original, but the long distance rewards (even relatively short) with space-consuming images that at the end of a pleasant journey (also lying between the points, getting the rounding up) there is a benevolent satisfaction: there is potential there, even if Night can’t figure it out yet.
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