Maere is the fifth full-length offering from post-black metal duo Harakiri For The Sky. Marking the tenth anniversary of the band, Maere is a double-disc set and yet, rather than fill both discs, the band have split the album (only fractionally longer than a single record) into two, forty-odd minute pieces, the divide recalling the point at which you flip the vinyl with an old school album. Nevertheless, it is still a lengthy record at eighty-five minutes in length, and the expanded run time allows the band to explore the vast horizons of their musical universe, even taking in a Placebo cover along the way. Bolstered by the devastating percussive might of Behemoth live drummer Kerim ‘Krimh’ Lechner, Harakiri For The Sky offer up a remarkable artistic vision on their latest outing, and one that sets a remarkably high bar for extreme metal in 2021.
A schizophrenic opening number, I. Pallbearer slips between the shimmering post-rock most recently exemplified in Deafheaven’s output and the more visceral riffing of ISIS. The deftly interwoven layers of melody provide a counterpoint to the guttural vocals although these are mixed rather lower in the mix than is typical, allowing the atmosphere to remain the focal point. Follow-up Sing For The Damage We’ve Done (featuring a guest appearance from Alcest’s Neige), similarly shifts mercurially between the savage and the sublime, the dense regret the title implies shot through the tumultuous riffs and rippling leads. It’s bold, hypnotic even, and it carries an expansive sense of the progressive that keeps the listener guessing as to the ultimate destination. The spectre of Katatonia looms over the icy opening of Us Against December Skies, although the thunderous riffs that emerge cleave closer once more to the explosive might of ISIS, and it proves to be a dynamic and dramatic track. Flowing into the torrential outpouring of I’m All About The Dusk, there’s an argument to be made that this best exemplifies the band’s ability to pair the beautiful and the brutal to such evocative effect. With J.J’s vocals, almost punk in their savagery, cocooned in layer upon layer of gossamer-fine guitar, the band seduce the listener, only for the more direct battering of Three Empty Words to dismiss the listener’s reverie and draw the album off in a different direction.
Opening the second disc, Once Upon A Winter is a direct and engaging piece of music, expanding upon the material found on the first disc, whilst demonstrating a more visceral approach. At ten minutes in length, it allows plenty of space in which the band can explore the post-whatever-hinterland and the band maintain an energetic and engaging pace throughout. The sense of the epic the band so effortlessly convey carries over into the dramatic And Oceans between Us. Emerging from a taut, stabbing riff, the track adopts a blackened approach, with savage, icy riffs creating a cinematic atmosphere that evokes the lush landscapes of Middle Earth. A lone piano leads the way into the dizzying Silver Needle // Golden Dawn, an airy piece that looks to the heavens before finally taking flight. It’s heavy, but a different kind of heavy – beautiful and yet with an undercurrent of threat – and it keeps you utterly hooked. By the time the riffs finally dissipate, you find yourself alone with an achingly beautiful acoustic interlude that massively wrongfoots the listener into expecting a bucolic ending, only for Time Is A Ghost to explode into a frenzy. There remains only the (uncredited) Placebo cover, Song To Say Goodbye, to see the album to its close. A comparatively short piece, it sees the melody fleshed out on the piano even as the guitars continue to thrash and burn around the edges. An elegant and reflective closer, it brings this ambitious release to a suitably dramatic close and leaves the listener feeling somehow refreshed as the world slowly comes back into focus.
Maere is a lengthy album and one that both requires and repays the investment of emotion and time that it demands. With stunning artwork and impressive production, it’s an album that draws you into another world and keeps you there, the lycanthropic creature depicted on the cover often sensed, rather than seen, lurking on the fringes of your consciousness. On Maere, beauty and belligerence coalesce, and the result is one of the year’s most ambitious and artistic releases. 9.5/10
