Birthed from the frost-laden marrows of Norwegian ancient woodlands, Kjetterskog unveils a debut that howls through forgotten branches with a spectral solitude. As if a ritual etched in frozen bark, whose whispers recall the weight of old sins and the permanence of silence.
From the opening track, the listener is cast into a monochrome labyrinth, where percussion cuts like skeletal hooves through the underbrush, and guitars deliver with both menace and mournful grace.
The production is cloaked in a deliberate harshness, which preserves the veil between the listener and a deeper and definitely more primal truth. Yet beneath the unyielding textures lies a surprising tenderness. Brief passages shine with post black glimmers, melancholic hues piercing the blizzard of distortion. These are far from ornaments, but subtle inflections of pain and reflection, fleeting but unforgettable.
However, it is in the fourth track, “Når Vinden Bærer Hylene Fra De Døde Skoger” that the veil momentarily lifts. Here, the atmosphere dilates into something vast and sorrowful, allowing depressive black metal and post black flourishes to entwine in a dirge that seems carried on the very wind that stirs the branches above.
By the time we arrive at the closing track, the journey crescendos not into resolution, but into a raw and melancholic descent. There is no salvation here, only the beauty of ruin, cold and glistening as a frostbitten dawn.
Kjetterskog walks alone through these forgotten forests, and with “Gjennom Skogens Flammer”, invites the listener to join in that solitude, not to comfort, but in communion, into the embrace of endless night, there is a strange light awaiting within the shadows.
