ALBUM REVIEW: Aegis – Lurk
Our Nordic friends have a long, proven history when it comes to all things heavy. Whether it’s old school death metal out of Sweden, Satanic black metal out of Norway or gothic symphonic metal out of Denmark. And who can forget Finland? Eurovision winners with metal monsters LORDI in 2006, home to a slew of leading acts including NIGHTWISH, AMORPHIS and CHILDREN OF BODOM, and seemingly an incubator for great new bands coming through into the scene. One such band is LURK, whose potent blend of sludge and doom has been gloriously realised on three full-length albums dating back to 2012. Now with Aegis, they show that they’ve firmly found their identity.
And that identity is one that takes in all of the heavy history of the region and vomits it all back out in one coagulated lump of metal. Ashlands starts as a death-tinged doom track with sparse cymbal chimes and a plodding riff under brutal roars. As the track progresses, LURK begin to fold in that black metal atmosphere and a pinch of epic symphonic scope, all without ever leaving that core offering of “unpredictable and vile sludge/doom” that they’ve stapled themselves to.
There’s an odd, ominous air that hangs thick around Aegis. A sulphuric cloud of malice and malcontent that keeps you looking over your shoulder, like on Infidel, which feels like a sleep paralysis demon’s entrance music. It’s a creeping, cruel number that has vocalist Kimmo Koskinen doing his best to shred his vocal cords, and his guitar work in tandem with Arttu Pulkkinen is glacial as it crushes you beneath its heel. Even on the instrumental track Kehto which includes pianos and more tension drones than the entire written history of horror movies, there’s a lurking danger – it’s just got a nice, soft frilly edge to lure you into that false sense of security.
Hauta takes Aegis on another turbulent tangent, dialling up the atmospherics and building up to a cataclysmic finale that includes primal, untethered screams, melancholy guitars and a thunderous rhythm section that carries this ship like a surging sea of dread. It’s the kind of song that works its way under your skin and into your psyche, planting itself in your mind as a seed of worry, one that lives in you and consumes you in the span of seven long, troubling minutes. Let us be clear though, this song is superb and arguably the crowning glory of Aegis.
On the surface of it all, LURK are just another band in a burgeoning scene, but in practice – and as proven here on Aegis – they’re far more than that. The way that they are able to meld all of these subgenres into a cohesive core that remains true to the overall genre tag is spellbinding, and even in sticking to their inimitable style, each of these seven tracks feels drastically different from each other. It’s a staggering achievement and we’d wager that over time, this album will mean more and more to those that hear it. For now though, just know that this is well worth your time.
Rating: 8/10
Aegis is out now via Transcending Obscurity Records.
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