THE KRYPTIK: A Journey To The Darkest Kingdom
Release year: 2023
Label: Purity Through Fire
I was recently made aware of the “genre” of blue castle black metal: albums with a blue tinted cover artwork depicting majestic mountains, vast forests, gloomy fullmoons and, obviously, castles. A sort of forebear to this aesthetic is of course Emperor’s In The Nightside Eclipse – otherwise too one of the most influential black metal albums of all time.
(Of course I’d realized a lot of bands copy this look, but I hadn’t realized it’s a “thing” some people collect.)
Brazilian The Kryptik’s third album lands smack dab in the middle of aforementioned aesthetic approach. I mean: a mysterious full moon – check; majestic mountains – check; vast forests – check; a castle as the centerpiece – check. And then all the added bonuses: mysterious robed figures, howling wolves, bats and bat winged daemonic figures. All in that hue of blue that represents all things nocturnal, cold, desolate and forsaken.
And that’s not the only thing the Brazilian duo have borrowed from Emperor.
You see, the simplest way to describe A Journey To The Darkest Kingdom is to say it fashions itself after In The Nightside Eclipse. If you’ve heard Emperor’s debut full-length – and chances are you have if you’re visiting this website – then you know exactly what to expect stylewise.
Indeed: ice-cold tremolo picked riffing, speedy tempos, strangulated shrieks for vocals, and omni-present layers of symphonic synths. All wrapped in a sound that is both cold and faraway, as if coming across some vast, snow-covered distance. And whilst the synths are in a crucial role, and there are moments of atmospheric passages of soft melodies, The Kryptik are as far from any kind of melodic and/or gothic black metal as can be. I mean, Emperor had synths but were of a decidedly different ilk than, for example, Dimmu Borgir or Cradle Of Filth. And so is The Kryptik.
To be fair, The Kryptik aren’t just Emperor clones. It seems obvious to me that the Norwegian icons are the primary source of inspiration, but some of the symphonic moments certainly extend beyond. I’d say if you throw in a bit of early Nokturnal Mortum and second album era Bal-Sagoth into the pot, you’ve got a pretty solid idea of what you’re getting.
So far so good: stylistically and aesthetically The Kryptik nail that old, Scandinavian symphonic black metal sound down to a tee. But sadly, that’s also where the good tidings end. For you see, underneath the convincing veneer, there’s only a glaring void.
What I mean by this is that the songs are dismally throwaway. The guitars in no way carry the songs, serving only as a background buzz of stereotypical black metal shredding. And, sadly, the synths don’t step up to carry the load. True, they weave dark, majestic atmospheres, but remain a background element instead of the primary focal point of the tracks. And the vocals? You guessed it: the rather generic Emperor-esque shrieks are too nondescript to serve as a functioning centerpiece for the compositions.
The problem of lacklustre songwriting is only emphasized by the rather massive lengths of the tracks. Four of the seven tracks are over ten minutes long, and the remaining three are all over seven minutes long. That’s a loooooooong time for tracks that are so nondescript.
And so, with one essential piece missing of the puzzle that is a good album, A Journey To The Darkest Kingdom ends up being a thoroughly unsatisfactory, frustrating album to listen to. I mean, I wanted to like this. I really, really wanted, because the band really nail the sound.
But after copious amounts of spins, of trying to see the tracks as anything but boring and far too long, I just have to admit the fact. A Journey To The Darkest Kingdom is a huge missed opportunity.
It could have been so good.
But it isn’t.
Only Death Is Real 