ALBUM REVIEW: Hiraeth – Nott

It is going to be difficult to get through this review without stumbling into a few clichés, so let’s just get them out of the way. Crushing, suffocating, brutal, apocalyptic – Hiraeth is all of those things, but before you assume you’ve heard it all before allow us to suggest that you probably haven’t. The sophomore effort from Pacific Northwest duo NOTT is a uniquely devastating prospect (oh sorry, there’s another one), that lands in some kind of fascinating middle ground between death-doom and deathcore to stand out as one of the heaviest records of the year whichever way you choose to cut it.

Rewind five years and you will already hear shades of this in the pair’s 2018 debut LP The Wretched Sounds, but there is no question that Hiraeth is a step-up. It’s more atmospheric, more all-encompassing, and ultimately just a better-produced record that delivers more fully on the band’s vision of doom-tinged, technically accomplished death metal. Generally, NOTT stick to a slow, mesmeric heft, their riffs rolling towards the listener like tar or lava as they snuff out the life of all in their path. Punctuated by bursts of frantic intensity from drummer Julia Geaman, as well as some well-placed moments of quiet and sparsity throughout, Hiraeth is one of those full-album, black hole type experiences wherein the listener is completely consumed from start to finish.

Setting NOTT apart most of all however are Tyler Campbell’s vocals. Though also responsible for bass, guitars and mixing, it’s his tortured and versatile delivery that is ultimately this album’s most defining characteristic. Offering a combination of sickening gutturals and twisted screams, someone like Will Ramos of LORNA SHORE feels like a low-hanging but still reasonably appropriate comparison to reach for here, although Campbell certainly has enough of his own style – a bit more of a rawness in particular – that moves him away from being unfairly labelled as an imitator. He makes the music feel meaner still, especially whenever one is able to disentangle lyrics like “You spineless coward / You led them here / If I could reach you / I’d tear your throat out” as heard in the record’s gruelling eight-minute opener and lead single Torn.

Given how oppressive it is for the most part, the aforementioned moments of quiet in Hiraeth prove essential. They are used well throughout – never needlessly protracted, but appearing regularly enough to ensure that NOTT’s heaviest moments never really lose their impact. The moody interlude of Null makes the glacial crushing of Rend feel all the more overwhelming for example, while penultimate track Writhe benefits from similar dynamic contrasts to take on a particularly hypnotic power whenever the band do decide to bring the hammer down. The closing title track is also deeply impactful – blasty and dissonant at first, and later brought to a fittingly miserable conclusion as Campbell repeats the line “It was never enough” atop a final climactic trudge.

Much like its title – which comes from a Welsh word with no direct translation – Hiraeth is hard to wrap up in a catchy summary. For Campbell, it refers to “the longing for what once was, and what you cannot go back to”, which seems in this case at least to have evoked a considerable amount of hatred and despair. This is easily one of the bleakest records you’ll hear all year; no doubt far too punishing for many, and yet deeply captivating and even liberating for those who find themselves inexplicably entranced by the unique style NOTT have nailed here.

Rating: 8/10

Hiraeth is set for release on August 18th via Silent Pendulum Records.

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