ALBUM REVIEW: Ex Tenebris (Remaster) – White Willow
Music is strange. While that’s the sort of blanket statement that might earn you a half-lidded nod of approval from the more herb enthusiastic audio lover and a barely disguised eye roll from the rest, it really doesn’t get more true than when you consider the sphere of rock and metal. Norway has more black metal heritage per square inch than snow, but it’s also the stronghold of the mid-to-late years of progressive rock as the genre twisted and reformed.
WHITE WILLOW have toyed with plenty of genres in their time, but they firmly call the second camp home. Ex Tenebris, their 1998 sophomore album, was supposed to be a solo pitch, but wound up feeling so prog that brainchild Jacob Holm-Lupo got the band back together to record it (and by “got the band back together”, here read “assembled an almost entirely different set of musicians”). Where debut Ignis Fatuus was a wild child, smashing together a thousand and one stylings to figure out which chunks of debris would fit in anyone’s ears, Ex Tenebris – seen here in its latest re-issue following a 2014 re-release/remaster – is jarringly stripped back in comparison; paring off excess inspirations and sometimes instruments and focusing on streamlining and seamlessly blending the ones left over.
The tone is also decidedly different. Melancholy is the order of the day, with heaping spoonfuls of sinister over and undertones. The album dips its toes into the waters of darker shores, too, tracks like A Strange Procession providing pure gothic ambience that offsets a lack of character by being intensely and interestingly ominous throughout. That lack of character, though, is unfortunately a defining fault for the whole experience. It’s stripped back to a fault – a lack of powerful statement or meaning to offset the drop in size and scope creating a void somewhere in the swirling, foreboding otherworld that it inhabits. The lack of Ignis Fatuus’ intensity is one thing, but for long stretches Ex Tenebris is directionless, gesturing softly to an already unresponsive orchestra.
It’s not the only thing lacking, either. This version is missing a handful of extra demo tracks present on the 2014 remaster, also snipping off a live version of Leaving The House Of Thanatos. Whether to preserve a feeling of continuity or creating a closer experience to the initial release is unclear, but it leaves a sour taste of musical shrinkflation in the mouth – taking this further away from a definitive edition, despite it being the most recent of the two reworkings. Whether demo tracks are a hill to die on is another question entirely, but it’s a point against this version all the same.
Equally ethereally mysterious and deficient in substance, there’s palpable good and bad to Ex Tenenbris in 2024. While the value of a second re-release ten years after a remaster for an album that is less than 30 years old might be questioned for its merits outside of availability (and probably that, too, given there’s five tracks missing), it’s as beautiful a record as it ever was, in spirit. What it lacks is the meat on its bones to create a fully nourishing experience, rather than an interesting talking point. 2000’s follow-up Sacrament provided a much more well-rounded effort that showcased the best of the new and remaining members of the band and, going forward, WHITE WILLOW would be recognised for their sizable contribution to the genre, but Ex Tenebris commits the progressive rock cardinal sin – not saying much, and not saying it well enough.
Rating: 5/10
Ex Tenebris (Remaster) is set for release on April 12th via Karisma Records.
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