Seven years after their last full-length, the
California black/death collective Valdur returns
from their mountain crypt with “Guilded Abyss.” For those unfamiliar, Valdur has long existed in their own corner of
extreme metal. Their music is often described as harsh, cavernous, and
mercilessly atmospheric, balancing chaos with suffocating heaviness. Formed in
the mid-2000s, they’ve maintained a reputation for crafting music that feels
more like a hostile environment than a structured listening session.
“Guilded
Abyss” continues that tradition. Across its seven tracks, the album revels in
noise, distortion, and an unrelenting wall of sound. The guitars are blown out,
riffs churn like collapsing tectonic plates, and the drums thunder with little
regard for space or restraint. Vocals are buried, more like guttural echoes
erupting from beneath the mix than a guiding presence. It creates a murky,
disorienting experience, one that often feels like standing in the middle of a
storm with no clear direction.
There is
structure here, though it hides beneath layers of static and chaos. The songs
stretch long, drenched in repetition, pulling the listener deeper into the
maelstrom. Occasionally a riff or rhythm pushes forward from the noise, only to
be swallowed again. The atmosphere is oppressive, built for those who prefer
their metal harsh and unforgiving.
The
production, handled at the Bloody Mountain Bunker and
finalized at Canyon Lodge Studios, leans
into this rawness. It’s murky, it’s noisy, and it thrives on abrasion. This
will either pull listeners into its vortex or push them away almost
immediately. What makes Valdur distinct is their refusal to dilute their
sound. This is underground black/death played with commitment to atmosphere
over precision. It isn’t about clarity or hooks, it’s about immersion into a
hostile sonic world. For those drawn to the more chaotic side of extreme metal,
this record delivers exactly that.
No comments:
Post a Comment