Ne Obliviscaris has been a favorite of the extreme metal world for more than a decade, achieving success with a style like no other. The experimentalist band combines death metal’s relentless rhythms, black metal’s melancholic soundscapes and progressive metal’s abstract song structures with classical violin accompaniments.
Courtesy of Seasons of Mist
The Melbourne, Australia quintet’s debut album, “Portal of I” (2012), redefined what metal could be, not just by introducing a new musical approach, but by perfecting it. Catapulting the band from obscurity to cult fame, “Portal of I” gradually made waves across the world, becoming an enduring favorite of the metal underground. Its 11-minute magnum opus, “And Plague Flowers the Kaleidoscope,” racked up millions of views across its different postings on YouTube, in addition to being taught alongside Ludwig van Beethoven at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music.
Ne Obliviscaris released their fourth full-length album, “Exul,” on March 24. Like its predecessors, the album bears the unenviable task of living up to their discography’s impossibly-high bar. “Citadel” (2014) and “Urn” (2017) were fantastic entries in the band’s catalog, though neither release had the boundary and genre-breaking success of the lightning-in-a-bottle “Portal of I.” As the band entered the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic still without a new record, anticipation mounted; fans wondered if the six-year wait for “Exul” would signal a new magnum opus or the band’s first misstep.
While every fan will have a different opinion on which album is Ne Obliviscaris’ best, it is safe to say that “Exul” more than makes up for its six-year wait, featuring some of the band’s most compelling songwriting and experimentation to date. “Equus,” the album’s opening track, bursts with every Ne Obliviscaris trademark a fan could ask for, perfectly balancing vocalist and violinist Tim Charles’ classically-trained vocals with Marc “Xenoyr” Campbell’s abrasive growls. Charles and Xenoyr lament the tragedy of the 2019-2020 Australian bushfires as the track moves from local outrage to philosophical wonder, imagining the bushfires as a symptom of the destruction humanity has inflicted upon the Earth; the scorched desert that awaits if our systems do not change.
“Equus” also clocks in at over 12 minutes, and Ne Obliviscaris makes the most of that time, embodying natural disasters through musical contrasts. It is as much a song of mourning as a call to arms — one whose emotion becomes tangible on the track’s concluding guitar solo. Heartbroken, desperate and outraged, guitarist Benjamin Baret’s playing succeeds where words fail, embodying grief for the millions of animals killed in the bushfires. Musically and lyrically, “Equus” introduces the main threads interwoven throughout the album’s six tracks, including the concept of “exul” as the feeling of alienation from a world seemingly unresponsive to logic or compassion. As Xenoyr told Season of Mist, the band’s record label, “‘Exul’ felt right to use [for the album title] in a broader sense and as a lone word, for we each have our own history and a story of exile.”
That exile continues in an even darker sense on the album’s two-part epic, “Misericorde,” a 16-minute composition confronting terminal illness. These two tracks deliver the feeling of alienation from one’s own body with palpable urgency and grief. The first part, “Misericorde I – As the Flesh Falls,” showcases Ne Obliviscaris at their loudest, railing against the truth that life leads to death, whereas “Misericorde II – Anatomy of Quiescence” fades into a dream-like ambiance. Here, Charles’ violin takes center stage like never before, strings singing to guide the primarily instrumental track into atmospheres reminiscent of funeral flowers: both solemn and beautiful.
As the “Misericorde” suite concludes the first half of “Exul,” the album’s remaining three tracks commence with “Suspyre,” a song smartly tucked away until release day. Instead of releasing the album’s strongest track as a single, Ne Obliviscaris unleashes “Suspyre” after the listener has already been primed by “Equus” and “Misericorde,” and the results are game-changing. “Suspyre” leans more into the technical death metal genre, a sound characterized by densely layered and technically demanding riffs played at nearly inhuman speeds. Even as every band member pushes themselves to the limit, melody is still a primary feature on this track. Charles’ violin and Baret and Matt Klavins’ flamenco skills are perfectly incorporated, and Martino Garattoni’s mind-blowing basslines tie every part of “Suspyre” together.
After the revelation of “Suspyre,” the album concludes with “Graal” and “Anhedonia,” a fitting crescendo and decrescendo that take the listener for one more epic ride. The lyrics of “Graal” are veiled in mystery, but if the forceful instrumentation is any indication, an apocalypse looms over every rhythmic shift. The absence of pleasure defines “Anhedonia,” and as “Graal” concludes with the ominous portent, “There is only dust / Humanity is gone,” it seems that the song anticipates a post-human future ushered in by humanity itself. “Exul” ends on an impactful, haunting note, Charles’ mournful vocals trailing off in the sway of gentle violin and piano passages.
Altogether, “Exul” is everything fans could have expected from Ne Obliviscaris. The album’s organization allows every song to build off the previous, resulting in a full listen sure to stay with listeners long after the final note. It is an incredibly difficult album to critique, in large part because nobody else in the world is making music like Ne Obliviscaris and because they execute every song’s balancing act flawlessly. “Exul” could have used one more epic song to reach an even greater theatrical level, and an overarching narrative could have made each theme even more compelling. However, the fact remains that Ne Obliviscaris delivered what fans were promised: another high-caliber metal record strong enough to rival any of their previous releases.
In just over 10 years since the release of “Portal of I,” Ne Obliviscaris has jumped from avant-garde metal curiosities to classical experimentalists marrying the elegant and the brutal, doing so with lyrical sincerity and a relentless drive for self-improvement. “Exul” is the next step in the band’s quest to achieve the impossible: to make sense of life and all of its often dispiriting mysteries.
Easton Lane (he/him) (25C) is from Littleton, Colorado and is double majoring in Creative Writing and Environmental Sciences. When he’s not listening to heavy metal, he can be found writing stories about bittersweet things and telling people about the music he has just listened to.
