Rorcal | website | facebook | bandcamp |
Released on March 25, 2016 via Bleak Recordings/Division Records
Rorcal are a band that deal in extremity of emotion. Huge walls of noise that overwhelm the senses, smashing defences and pounding away at the listener until they reach submission. Each song is an investment in both time and energy, and Creon is further proof that the investment is very much worthwhile.
The band hail from Switzerland, a country more known for stereotypes around chocolate and banking than the production of metal acts, but Rorcal is a welcome deviation from that norm. The prolific band have released three prior albums and a series of EPs, splits and collaborations over their ten year career to date. Creon is their fourth full length, and encapsulates the journey to date perfectly, blending precise black metal pace and fury with sludge sensibilities, and a patience and willingness to allow movements to breathe to create the maximum tension, which is rarely seen outside of the doom fraternity.
There is an element of story-telling to Rorcal releases, and Creon is no different. Now normally I fear ‘concept’ albums – they almost never deliver a cohesive experience that does the source idea justice, even more so when they present a version of a well-known story. Usually the music either makes a token attempt to fit the themes of the story or expressions are so overblown that the whole record feels cartoonish and the subtlety of the source is lost, quite apart from bands that pick stories that just do not suit their styles. Rorcal, however, have gotten it spot-on with their choice and handling of the subject matter.
This release re-tells the tragedy of Antigone from the perspective of that characters’ uncle, the eponymous King Creon. The story is broken into four acts, across the four tracks. The story tells of a brutal battle and depicts the struggle of Polynices and Eteocles, sons of Oedipus and brothers to Antigone, who eventually kill each other over the kingdom of Thebes. Following the battle, King Creon takes the throne and declares that Polynices shall not be buried or mourned, a decision that Antigone refuses to accept. She plots to bury Polynices and is sentenced to imprisonment in a tomb, where she commits suicide shortly before Creon has a change of heart. Her death causes Creon’s son Haemon who Antigone was due to marry, to commit suicide, which in turn inspires King Creon’s wife to take her own life, leaving Creon alone. The story is beautifully pitched for the nihilistic, brutal blackened doom of Rorcal, and the oppressive and claustrophobic nature of the album complements the story perfectly. The anger of Creon at discovering Antigone’s betrayal is perfectly paired with furious black metal riffing and the misery of Creon learning of the suicide of his wife is matched with a more doom oriented and mournful final act on the album. This conscious pairing of a sensibly chosen subject matter and an expertly delivered soundtrack makes Creon a truly special and slightly harrowing listen, leading to almost unexpected level of emotional engagement with the songs and the storyline.
Musically, Rorcal build tension without really ever taking the easy route. The movements are expertly constructed, and none of the songs outstay their welcome, despite the shortest track on the album clocking in at a whacking 11 minutes. The tracks feel like they are constantly in motion and develop with the unfolding story, but the intensity is never lost and does not drop at all through the album. It’s an exhausting listen, to be honest, emotionally and physically. The album moves through different periods of discomfort, making for an oppressive listen. The music is varied enough to avoid the listener suffering fatigue at the sheer nihilism of it all, although it does skate close to the edge of that sometimes; the level of intensity is difficult to maintain as a listener, but Creon presents enough interesting sounds to keep the listener present from the opening bombast to the closing strains. The production helps the listener in this way, highlighting some wonderful technical percussion and seating the vocals and some of the lead guitar lines beautifully, but also giving the remainder of the guitars a dream-like drone feeling, despite the fact that they are clearly being played at about a million miles per hour. This has the effect of soothing the listener; making the bitter pill easier to swallow.
Creon is a brutal and intense slab of melancholic nihilism. There are no happy endings here, and this is beautifully reflected in the bleak and oppressive atmosphere that Rorcal have created with Creon. It’s a stunning album, taking elements of doom, black metal, ‘post’ and throwing in some drone and chaotic structuring to create uneasy listening at its finest.
