There are plenty of bands who claim to not fit into any per-conceived labels or genres, yet very few conjure that elusive spell of genuine originality. Step forward Drofnosura, a Canadian trio who are determined to tread new ground by confounding doubters and eradicating pigeonholes. Their label, Transcending Obscurity, attempts to describe the band’s sound by saying “they have taken elements from multiple styles, such as sludge, doom, black and even post-metal, finely ground them and used the material to sculpt a new body entirely”. Which is pretty accurate overall, but you could easily add grunge, dissonant death metal, plus a few other genres to that list and it wouldn’t be far-fetched. This really is a unique sound and one that has equally enthralled and surprised me while digging its substantial claws into my skin.
You will need to be in the right frame of mind to tackle and fully appreciate Ritual of Split Tongues, this is not an album you can dip into or have on in the background; it demands your undivided attention. The title track for example, is a monstrous fifteen minutes in length and slowly meanders like a serpent around your feet before spiraling up and tightening its grip. The first act of this song feels like an atmospheric mix of So Hideous and Amenra, with the vocals jumping between blackened screams and twisted croons that remind me of Vision of Disorder’s Tim Williams' more tuneful moments. Act two turns up the intensity and brings in some more fragmented dissonant compositions that sound like a stripped back version of Ulcerate. At the 13-minute mark a barnstorming guitar solo appears out of nowhere to blow your mind for the next 120 seconds, because why the hell not!
Four of the six tracks on the album are over ten minutes long, and this ambitious approach to songwriting is another element that makes Drofnosura stand out. Epic durations are clearly not something the band find daunting or off-putting, they see it as a medium to build their songs in their own vision and to create an atmosphere which takes you on a journey. A great example of this is “Kapala Kriya”, with its beautiful yet foreboding approach. Akin to being lost in a discordant fog drenched maze, where every turn reveals more thorned walls that are closing in on you. There is an air of Cult Of Luna running through this track and in my opinion it’s one of the most memorable moments on the album, with enough hooks to fill an abattoir. The vocals once again jump all over place, from Pete Steele-esque spoken word sections to tortured cries and even Layne Stayley howls. Honestly, on the first listen it’s difficult to know which way to turn or what is coming next. It’s as captivating as it is confusing, and I can’t get enough.
One of the heaviest tracks is “The Well of Seven Heads”, with its twisted melodic opening acting as a precursor to something much more repugnant. The doom-laden riff that crashes in at the four-minute mark is utterly colossal and likely capable flattening an entire forest. The song grows and morphs into something more frenzied but never relinquishes any of the previous weight or darkness. In fact, it’s almost impossible to escape the darkness that pumps through the veins of this record. Like a brooding shadow looming over every note, you feel its presence even in the moments of melody. This album won’t be for everyone, and not just because of the fifteen-minute-long songs, but because music that is this unique can be unnerving, especially when it doesn’t fit neatly into any of the labels or genres we are used to. Call it blackened disso-doom, or even experimental post-sludge if that makes you feel more comfortable, but you’ll only get the full Drofnosura experience once you forget the labels and immerse yourself in the murky allures of this entrancing and challenging album.