review – music

Akhlys — House of the Black Geminus

Akhlys had their devoted fans, myself included, eagerly awaiting new material since their 2021 masterpiece, Melinoë, which I’ve played countless times and almost religiously studied. July 5th, 2024, marked the end of that wait with the release of their new album, House of the Black Geminus.

Donning my trusty, well-worn headphones, I braced myself for the album despite my nascent tinnitus—the damage done by over 30 years of listening to extreme metal. With great anticipation, I finally pressed the play button…

First Impressions

The sound production, masterfully handled once again by studio wizard Dave Otero, subtly deviates from the crushingly dense style of Melinoë. It presents a slightly softer yet equally menacing sonic wall, which, even on the very first listen, reveals nuanced layers. You need to either listen with good headphones or play it really loud in a small room to grasp all the subtleties.

Eoghan’s drumming, a blend of merciless power and razor-sharp precision, propels the music forward. The guitar work exhibits a progressive edge, with the rhythm section producing that familiar, brutal hum. The lead guitar weaves serpentine, spiral melodies, sometimes surprising with deceptively lush, even evocative tones that have a toxic effect. It’s as if you know you’re being poisoned but can’t help but be mesmerized! The synth pads undulate like powerful waves, immersing the listener in an electrified hallucination, tinged with the melancholic hues of their second album, The Dreaming I.

Let’s dissect the tracks in order, supplemented with lyric excerpts and (paraphrased) quotes from the mastermind Naas himself, for after all, this is a concept album telling a story in three acts.

Act I · The Hearth

The Mask of Night-Speaking

The almost twelve-minute opening track begins with a crushing sound wave—my poor speakers be damned! Then a lone foreboding riff paves the way as the battery of drums joins in. The pace quickens while ghost-like wails sweep across the landscape. Then the music slows down as if making way for something harrowing. My spine is literally tingling with anticipation… Suddenly, the track ramps up speed, and Naas’ vocals kick in at their most vicious. It’s very rare for music to convey this kind of sheer menace.

By the halfway point, the track is racing at breakneck speed. Naas’ shrieks sound alien in their relentless fury. And if you thought there would be a brief pause of relief, there isn’t. As the track seems to be nearing its manic climax around the nine-minute mark, it slows down with more evocative riffing. At the 9:31 mark, it suddenly picks up an insane, vertigo-inducing momentum towards the actual end, with guitarist Nox Corvus’ inhuman speed-picking prowess leaving the listener speechless.

Act I · The Hearth

Maze of Phobetor

If the previous track was a wild ride, Phobetor is utter chaos in its unhinged battering of the eardrums. The sheer pressure of the cacophonous wall of sound is enough to cause a suffocating effect akin to a tsunami of black mercury crashing over you… It might take a while to discern that the track is submerged in an absolutely uncanny electric background hum, which really adds a palpable ”element of danger.” It’s like the hairs on the back of your neck rising while standing in front of a powerful current.

After the furious intro, the track slows down to gather momentum, only to rev up with even more spite. Naas’ whip-like, hoarse shouts sound harsher than probably ever before. According to him, this maze in which the listener is being tortured is an ordeal in which:

I can relate, as the track is a genuinely terrifying and intense experience, akin to being assaulted by swarms of poltergeists. I dare you to listen to it in an echo-heavy, enclosed environment at the highest possible volume. You will quickly be assured that this is no hyperbole.

Act I · The Cellar

Through the Abyssal Door

The track begins with a simple, crushing riff accompanied by a rhythmic chorus of familiar ghostly wails. A serpentine lead guitar joins the fray, and the song picks up pace as Naas’ roaring vocals enter the arena, as if proclaiming something gravely important. Then the music wanes into near silence, as if it were already done—only to resurface with a new, even more piercing, crushingly heavy riff… I would advise listening to this track alone in complete darkness with headphones. This way you can best immerse yourself in this majestic chasm. If you aren’t flooded with cold shivers, there must be something wrong with your neurology. I almost had an involuntary out-of-body experience myself… This is a rare sonic portrayal of Mysterium Tremendum, the trembling aspect of the Numinous.

Note: The lyrics are written by the Canadian esotericist and horror author Richard Gavin (also a guest of the Mycelium Signal Podcast).

Act II · The Cellar

Black Geminus (Instrumental)

The only wholly ambient track on the album begins with sweeping horns amidst sounds resembling a massive swarm of flies or the muffled whispers of a chorus of souls. I remember Naas mentioning that the track features no vocals because no words can sufficiently reflect the nature of the Other, which the protagonist is about to encounter.

The hum intensifies towards the end of the track, as if approaching a gargantuan waterfall.

Act III · The Attic

Sister Silence, Brother Sleep

The triumphant opening solo guitar melody, evoking Nightbringer’s style (in the album Ego Dominus Tuus), is soon submerged in Akhlys’ signature wall of sound. Naas’ vocals, both roaring and inhuman, spin the listener into a torrent of ecstatic dread. The track’s intensity mounts, painting a picture of a deep blue haze, both ethereal and foreboding. This spiral draws the listener deeper, eliciting genuine cold shivers. The craftsmanship here is nothing short of dark genius. Just when it seems the end is near, a pivotal shift occurs. The tempo slows, and a dreamy solo guitar interlude, reminiscent of medieval fanfares, emerges, prompting introspection…

As the track concludes, we descend back into the metaphorical cellar, the contrasting respite of light still vividly remembered. This journey through light and dark begs the question: will light prevail in the end? The track returns full circle to its original intensity, ending with a rhythm that evokes the image of a wildly galloping herd of horses.

Act III · The Attic

Eye of the Daemon – Daemon I

The final track of the album begins with an electrified hum, resembling the static of a Geiger counter. A triumphant riff emerges from the shadows, accompanied by a long roar, and whips itself into a frenzy, only to sway into a more mid-tempo pace before picking up hectic speed again. By now, the listener is probably gasping for air… for this has been an utterly intense journey. At the very end of the track, the album takes on a rather melancholy note, yet it maintains a sense of cathartic jubilation, resembling an alchemical crowning of Rubedo.

Conclusion

I still remember how ”Melinoë” sounded incredibly vicious and intense a few years ago when I first heard it. I thought you simply couldn’t top it, but this one somehow manages to surpass it, for this is peak extreme art, regardless of the medium. In fact, the worst thing about Akhlys is that they manage to make almost any other ”extreme” black metal band that I’ve liked before sound somehow ”low effort” and spiritually castrated in comparison. It’s Akhlys’ unhinged excess and unparalleled effort behind the music and underlying concepts. The songs go to such verges that they reach an ecstatic quality, which is very rare.

Sources

• Lyrics (in cursive) from the album ”House of the Black Geminus”
• Akhlys interview in Bardo Methodology Magazine
• Naas Alcameth’s interview in the Mycelium Signal Podcast #16

Watch on YouTube →

Tracks

1. The Mask of Night-Speaking
2. Maze of Phobetor
3. Through the Abyssal Door
4. Black Geminus
5. Sister Silence, Brother Sleep
6. Eye of the Daemon – Daemon I

Label
Debemur Morti

Released
2024

Links

Bardo Methodology interviews with Akhlys:

Part 1 · Part 2 · Part 3

Naas Alcameth’s interviews at the Mycelium Signal Podcast:

Episode V · Episode XVI