Review Summary: A Veil is Lifted
All That Has Never Been True is hypnotic in a way that few albums within the BM sphere are. It dabbles in tradition, for sure, with the bulk of tracks like “Der Alte Fiend'' carrying a weighty menace that conjures images of say,
De Myteriis Dom Sathanas or Weakling’s
Dead As Dreams. In these moments, the fuzzy tremolos are a driving motif, the blasts are raw and almost mesmerizing in their repetition, and the record is steeped in a murk more familiar to most bm fans. Ultha do not live in the shadows of their forefathers however, nor do they force progression where it needn’t be. It’d be more fair to say that they manipulate tradition into a contorted form of its own, with two tracks representing this in beautiful, dismal form- “Dispel” and “Bathed in Lightning, Bathed in Heat” (the latter of which is a contender for the most RADICAL bm song title of all time.) The former showcases an ascending tremolo that is a perfect balance of whimsical and wicked, introducing us to the beginning stages of an album that veers out to the edges of liminality and reality. The latter is, however, where the deep dive
really begins, and is where the culmination of this record's identity lies. It begins in a trawling and suspenseful fashion, with (ofc) tremolos howling distantly, with what can only be described as a xylophone-esque lead haunting the forefront. As the noise swarms greatly and cackling dsbm-style wails begin to howl overhead, the veil is lifted, and reality starts to warp with imminence.
The even more patient but just as rewarding “Haloes in Reverse” shows this with a satisfying grimace, as dainty synth-work serves as both a catalyst and an amplification to some abso-***ing-lutely intense crashing cymbals and surprisingly meaty snarls, of which is offered respite by almost noir-esque basslines. Do not think smoky speakeasies and lacey-dressed women however, rather a nocturnal void that maintains an endless balance of dull static calm and sweltering heat-seeking chaos. It is frightening in the most unpredictable of patterns up to and including the end stage- “Rats gorged the Moon…and all fell silent”. The riffs are a simple sprawl of murkier power-chords that maintain an facade of
normality, but the way the witchy wails only seem to grow in force paired with surprisingly warm and ethereal keys make for something that is the embodiment of “fever dream acid-induced hallucination”. This, while hardly the greatest moment of grandiose, is a paramount ending to an album dedicated to exploring the most shrouded realms of the human psyche, where melancholy and pain soon dissolve into nihil. In the depths of depravity only two things remain true-1) sadness is an inevitable absolute and 2)-this album rules. Jam it.
