Dimmu Borgir - Grand Serpent Rising
A lot of blood has been shed on these pages about the travails and musical output of Oslo, Norway-based extreme metal titans Dimmu Borgir. Most of that criticism richly deserved, some of it much less so. This scribe has been intentionally adversarial and openly hostile whether their perceived slights were real or imagined. Now thirty-plus years into its illustrious career and after spending the years leading to up to it exploring its distant (and more recent) past on select festival appearances “Grand Serpent Rising” was described in the advance press campaign as a journey through all eras of the band. For once, that assessment proves to be correct. Not that this is some paradigm-shattering, transformative, transcendental work that pushes boundaries and proudly breaks new ground – no, but at the very least this is probably the first Dimmu Borgir record in the turbulent post-ICS Vortex/Mustis era that we can wholeheartedly get behind and even dare recommend. At nearly 70 minutes “Grand Serpent Rising” is bloated as fuck and probably too long for its own good. Some judicious editing would have yielded a spectacular 35-minute companion EP.
Coming not exactly hot on the heels of 2018’s polarizing “Eonian” the present day finds Dimmu Borgir in a strange place. Over the course of 30 years (and counting) they went from your average no-budget black metal band to Victorian age romantics, wanna-be Cenobites, and post-apocalyptic warriors to tundra gypsy-barbarians/pirates, and futuristic hooded warrior-monks. “Grand Serpent Rising” is the first in a very long time to have a regular, non-conceptual band photo. What a pleasant surprise. To make things even better they haven’t sounded this inspired, ferocious, and “old school” (a term to be interpreted very, very loosely) in many a moon. Yet “Grand Serpent Rising” is a two-headed beast that on the one hand provides fan service in attempting to recreate the magick of the sacred trilogy that was "Enthrone Darkness Triumphant", "Spiritual Black Dimensions", and "Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia" while simultaneously not abandoning the folk-tinged gothic doom and New Age psychedelia that “Eonian” so brilliantly captured, even if it came at the expense of everything else.
Not that world music and psychedelia are anything remotely new in extreme and underground metal. Canberra, Australia’s long suffering (and long defunct) mind-explorers and genre-benders Alchemist pioneered that sort of thing all the way back in the early-to-mid 1990s. Pity those who labor under the delusion that Dimmu Borgir writes music that is in any way complex. Dimmu Borgir, by any metric or standard you’re willing to employ, never has, was, or will be, a band that writes complicated songs. Theirs is a repertoire that, should we neglect to mention, largely consists of neatly pop formatted verse-chorus songs, ideal for festivals and assorted large crowds. Which brings us to that other salient (if often neglected point). Whoever still believes that Dimmu Borgir still plays, or ever played, black metal is either massively deluded or someone who attends Wacken Open Air. Regardless, Dimmu Borgir today is a slightly more muscular, darker version of Nightwish. Dimmu Borgir has joined the cadre of diluted Nordic institutions as Amon Amarth, Arch Enemy, and Dark Tranquillity that are mere husks of their former vigorous selves. Dimmu Borgir is to symphonic metal what Sabaton is to power metal: swill for the idiot Wacken crowds. In our humblest of opinions at their most potent Dimmu Borgir was always woefully, stunningly, maddeningly mediocre. Writ large we’ve been ambivalent to them at best, and complete indifferent at worst. On “Grand Serpent Rising” that does not change.
There’s a level of sangfroid to this that was long absent on the prior two records and that we thought Dimmu Borgir had irrevocably lost. The advance press statements for once were true. Not that that was, or is, indicative of anything in particular but here there’s a concerted effort to revisit past efforts. The shadow of “Eonian” still looms large over this set of songs but at least they’ve shed most of the lethargic gothic pomp and directionless folk noodling. A good portion of the material (or considerable sections thereof) indeed harken back to the 1997-2001 golden years of "Enthrone Darkness Triumphant", "Spiritual Black Dimensions", and "Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia." The doomy midpace is still the same but overall this set of songs is more pointed, concise, and muscular.
Some of the strongest tracks (‘Ascent’, ‘As Seen In the Unseen’, and ‘Repository Of Divine Transmutation’) of this collection of songs recall the bygone glory days of "Spiritual Black Dimensions", "Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia", and the “Godless Savage Garden” EP. ‘The Exonerated’ has the sort of exultant riffing not heard since the long forgotten simpler days of “Enthrone Darkness Triumphant.” ‘Recognizant’ feels an “For All Tid” song reimagined in the current age. “Grand Serpent Rising” is bookended by an atmospheric moodpiece on the one end and concludes with ‘Gjǫll’, an instrumental on the model of ‘Rite Of Passage’. As with all post-2010 Dimmu Borgir albums the prevailing atmosphere on “Grand Serpent Rising” is gothic, the ever-trudging tempo is sort of doom metal adjacent, and there’s light sprinklings of a Middle Eastern influence. Dimmu Borgir hasn’t sounded remotely evil since 2007’s “In Sorte Diaboli” and for the lack of a better descriptor this sounds arid, dry and like a proverbial desert.
Maximalism has long been Dimmu Borgir's undoing and here the undynamic duo at long last seem to address and remedy that. “Grand Serpent Rising” is the most guitar-centric album in a long time and for the first time in what feels like an eternity the orchestra/choir are not the focal point nor is it expected to provide the dynamics. Overall the musculature of “Spiritual Black Dimensions” has at long last returned. Some of guitar soloing/leads from Kjell Åge Karlsen are reminiscent of the Jamie Stinson (Astennu) days or Balder’s most animated works. Not since the days of "Puritanical Euphoric Misanthropia" and “In Sorte Diaboli” has the bass guitar featured this prominently and Victor Brandt lays down some funky twangs wherever possible. Likewise is drummer Dariusz Brzozowski given the room to breathe and showcase why he’s one of Poland’s most in-demand drummers.
The addition of Geir Bratland has worked miracles for the band’s overall sound and the application and integration of keyboards, ambient electronics and effects. He, in his infinite wisdom, stays mostly out of the way and chimes in only when and where needed. His efficient and ethereal minimalism is a breath of fresh air after the Mustis years of grandiose, overbearing, and pompous maximalism. What is painfully clear is that Shaggy never was the most impressive, or particularly acidic, vocalist to begin with but his best years are long, long behind him. He comfortably stays within lower register relying more on spoken word since everyone with eyes to see, ears to hear knows (or has long since realized) that his voice has been completely shot at least since 2010. On “Grand Serpent Rising” Dimmu Borgir sounds rejuvenated, downright inspired even.
The last twenty years can perhaps be best described as a protracted identity crisis. After such a dramatic and seismic personnel change a shedding of skin was perhaps needed, and expected. “Abrahadabra” and “Eonian” toyed with lethargic power metal motifs and gothic metal keyboards/synthesizers as well as less pronounced elements of psychedelica and folk instruments. The heroic Viking and somber Nordic atmosphere of “For All Tid” and "Stormblåst" are relegated to relics of the past. After all monuments like Enslaved, Borknagar, and Satyricon (usually their first three albums) did that whole thing earlier and better than these men ever could. "Eonian" was so bombastic, so melodramatic, so completely different from anything and everything they done prior. Stranger still “Eonian” and “Grand Serpent Rising” sound closer to something like The Gathering and their “Mandylion” and “Nighttime Birds” duology (those were two sides of the same coin, in fact) than anything remotely in the black metal realm.
We’re surprised that Dimmu Borgir hasn’t leaned into the post metal and blackgaze subgenres yet as they’ve been rampant and ever-expanding in the last 15 years. The underlying doom structures (replete with acoustics and folk instruments) is sort of reminiscent of classic Neurosis (“Enemy of the Sun” and onward) but not as bold. Here’s hoping the next album (expect it somewhere in 2034) will expand on that foundation and explore it further. Gone are the days of somber Nordic romanticism, of dystopian industrial vistas, or semi-medieval explorations. The Dimmu Borgir of today is an entirely different beast, and finally living up to its innate potential. If you like what you hear on “Grand Serpent Rising” then do yourself a favour and pick up a copy of “Spiritech” by Alchemist or “Through Silver In Blood” by Neurosis while you’re at it.
