Much debate surrounds the basis of Norwegian quintet Leonov – are they Doom? Are they post-Rock?? Do they eat much fårikål??? Yawn…what’s certain is that the band’s sound is heavy, melodic and steeped in melancholy, as sophomore album Wake (Fysisk Format) bears out.
‘I Am Lion, I Am Yours’ begins the journey with a growling, pensive riff riding on a current of eerie organ. The striking element here is Tåran Reindal’s droning, mellifluous voice which drifts yet bewitches the soul, rising effortlessly, lazily over the growing swell of sinister chimes and crashing noise. ‘Eucharist’ is a slow, pounding monster, a siren’s call to her victims which meanders deliciously through the mind before rising majestically. Reindal’s vocal is seductive and dreamlike, whilst Jon-Vetle Lunden’s curious and involving drum patterns conduct the the sometimes discordant leadwork and shimmering, atmospheric riff. Morten Kjelling’s titanic bass throb comes to the fore in the closing stages and eases the track to its slumber.
The crawling ‘Shem’ demonstrates the band’s ability to seamlessly sew together brittle, heartbreaking music with portentous rhythms and profound explosions. Reindal’s heavenly throat is undercut with an icy tolling which takes the track towards a speedier second half of harsher riffs, oscillating heaviness and staggering leads, all of which remains coated in lush, plainitive harmonies which leaves the listener breathless at the track’s tragic beauty.
The penultimate ‘Oceanode’ is simply beautiful, more stirring intonations lightening the weight of a colossal rhythm section, whilst icicle-drop guitars are layered and fired forwards in slow but startling fashion, the whole stirring emotions in ways it’s impossible to convey. This merely sets the scene for the closing odyssey of the title track. A sprawling expanse of anguished desolation, there are elements of Windhand around but the ethereal wonder of the spectral harmony and sad, sparse instrumentation is utterly haunting. The pace is often Drone-like, the mood funereal, the atmosphere from the darkest depths of the oceans. A delicately-picked guitar carries Chelsea Wolfe-esque sighs to the surface as the power builds to a resonant, soul-shattering finale.
Call this what you will, but the suspicion is that you’ll find caveats don’t matter. If you find the most profound, crushing and emotionally affecting Metal album this year, introduce it to Wake and watch it walk away with its tail low.
8.5/10.0
PAUL QUINN