![]() ![]() If Bart’s Hospodi turns out to be a genre-defining grandiosity, in spite of all the distaste fans have for him now, I will come out and say it is so. In the meantime, as a starry-eyed optimist, I still believe that for the sake of metal, we should all take a step back, relax a little and judge objectively. Who is really to blame for Batushka’s outfall: Is it Krys’ behaviour and constant delays of album release or is it Bart’s backstabbing method of copyrighting? Which Batushka is the trve Batushka: the one by the guy who wrote and recorded majority of the instruments or the one by the guy who made people actually pay attention to the band? What will this mean for the future of the band: will either Krys or Bart become the full owners of the Batushka brand or will we forever remain in this creative schism?īut those are most likely questions for the lawyers. And even though it is probably already clear, who the real Batushka is, there still will be a heavy cloud of doubt for a long time. Things were said, accusations thrown, lawsuits filed, friendships broken and fanbase divided. Who would have guessed this? Batushka have found themselves in a shroud of drama lately. And it delivers you its knowledge in a slow and steady manner.Review Summary: Two thirds of the creative with three fourths of the fan support makes one half of a Batushka record. Not darkness of desperation or hopelessness, but rather of acceptance the light’s end, the understanding of which turns to take and what words to preach. They, and the incredibly gloomy music they are accompanied by (or they themselves accompany), portray a perfect world of darkness. They warn of struggles ahead in lands foreign and home, in arms of strangers and the close ones, on an odyssey and in a dwelling’s comfort. ![]() The lyrics are magnetic in their vagueness and their mysticism is almost brilliantly suggestive without actually revealing the full story. It cleverly balances the weary feelings and the tuneful music. The entire album tests your patience, but never to the point of exhausting you with its slow pace. ![]() On the other hand, cuts such as “May of the Woods” or “The Way the Land Lies” are both fonder of the quiet side of things, never really feeling the necessity to expand musically to deliver their message. Songs like “Domed” or “Rive Droite” each build exactly into that rich on emotion, haunting monumental dismay and sorrow, delivered through loudness. It isn’t bombarding you with exultant hoorays, but rather engulfs with a worrisome, longing beauty of its urgency and carefully built and written tunes set into slowly invigorating volume of its instrumental arrangement. So do the gentle ‘La, la, las‘ of the song “The Beautiful Silence” suddenly sound bittersweet and with a strongly masked torment underneath, especially as the vocalist Simon Huw Jones’ subdued and sophisticated, yet oddly nervous delivery mixes the already unnerving vibe.īut the album isn’t built on quietness only, for each song manages to escalate to surprising, but upon further rumination seemingly logical, overwhelming instrumental explosion. The often soft and pleasant melodies are bittered by thick, sticky treacle of unease hanging in the air. It is enigmatic, slow, brooding, but magnificently chilling and piercing with its dark, menacing calm and restraint. I could liken the sound of this album to a traditional European fairy-tale (say, of Grimm brothers’ authorship). And nowhere have they perfected that as on this album. But one thing is for sure, their blend of atmospheric and subtle triumph with mysterious, visceral and patient instrumentation and song-writing is beyond comprehension. Everyone involved adores them, everyone on the outside isn’t even aware this kind of music exists. And Also the Trees have dominated the Post-Punk cult status. ![]()
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