MAVORIM: Ab Amitia Pulsae

Release year: 2023
Label: Purity Through Fire

German black metal act Mavorim are one of those names I’ve been aware of for years and who’ve popped up ever so frequently, but whom I’ve never really paid much attention to for some reason or the other. Probably the reason has been laziness or the fact that there is so much music to check out that something’s bound to slip between the cracks.

Active since 2014, the German act centered around driving force Baptist (aided by drummer Valfor on this album) have previously released three albums and a slew of splits, EP’s and what have you since their inception. And, it seems to me, release by release they’ve crept higher on the rung of underground black metal, garnering more support and followers. Not to the point of threatening to break into the mainstream, but decidedly to the point of being a somewhat prominent underground name. The fact I’ve seen the name pop up frequently is proof enough – as I don’t particularly actively keep tabs on what’s going on beside the choice few acts I more actively follow.

So, high time to check the Germans out, eh?

There’s definitely a strongly German element to Mavorim’s take on black metal. And by that I mean a considerable debt owed to Absurd – speaking purely musically. At times, Baptist’s delivery of the all-German vocals reaches the same levels of violence and rawness as peak Absurd did. And the common strain deeper than that, into the very essence of the music: one can certainly spy a certain kinship in Mavorim’s basically rather raw expression that still finds the time for melancholic and/or epic melodies with a bit of a folk feel at times.

Add to the above a sizeable and unsurprising chunk of traditional second wave black metal, and a bit of the raw melodicism of the classic Finnish sound, and you have a pretty good idea of what Mavorim sound like. This combination of differing elements, of rawness with melody, works quite well: the Germans strike a functioning balance, where no one element dominates too much.

Ab Amitia Pulsae delivers, in other words, a skillfully assembled package of underground black metal. On the flipside of the coin, there’s nothing new under the sun here, and in many ways Ab Amitia Pulsae is a very middle-of-the-road type of album as far as underground black metal in the 2020’s goes. Almost too much so.

What I mean is that it’s very easy to digest the album, but at the same time it doesn’t really challenge or provoke. It’s kind of like drinking Brewdog’s Punk IPA as opposed to an beer with genuine character: it’s nice, it’s tasty, it goes down well and you might even grab a second bottle – but it’s not one you’ll end up savouring, let alone obsessing over. In that sense, I wish Mavorim’s mixture would be a bit more abrasive, a bit rawer. Not played so safe. Not necessarily all the way to Dämonenblut levels of German rawness, but a step or two in that direction.

At first I was quite excited, even stoked about the album. It really impressed me. Then came a moment of disillusion, when I felt that it was all surface and little depth. And now, I’ve found a middle ground between the two: Ab Amitia Pulsae is a genuinely good album, a strong contender in modern black metal, but it hasn’t got that special quality that raises good to would-be-classic.

And, as such, the bottom line of Ab Amitia Pulsae is this: it’s not an album I see myself spinning very frequently after completing this review. Rather, it’ll be relegated to gathering dust in my collection… but then, every once in a blue moon, when I do put it on, I’ll think “hey, this is pretty neat.” And proceed to forget all about the album again.

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