[Archive] Review of Rat Lord’s 2024 LP, ‘Blazed In The Northern Sky’.
Note: This review was originally posted to our now-defunct previous website (RIP). Check the review and artist links, and enjoy some fine Norwegian grind/crust madness!
Peace, Love and Grindcore xoxo - Brady.
Somewhat of a recurring theme and statement threaded through recent reviews from Yours Truly is an overarching bird's-eye observation about heavy music’s re-embracing of the crusty, fun, and downright dingy these past few years. The HM-2-infested rot that eased off through the 2010s has crept infectious tendrils back into the extreme scene from 2020 onwards. Reasonably foreseeable, I’d say.
We’ve enjoyed years of Nolly Getgood-style crispness, sharpness, and marvellous leaps in the everyman musician’s capacity to create sparkling, polished audio productions of all types.
That said, looking at the glut of fuzz-infested tones and tropes inserting themselves everywhere from technical death metal to the abrasive metallic hardcore resurgence of late, it’s clear there’s a yearning for a return to the warm, sticky ferocity of metal’s heyday. In addition, the world itself is nothing short of a climactic shitshow, and has been for some time. Of course, music will be produced to reflect that. I get it. Still, there’s also a degree of levity and outright fun that ought to be had whilst playing noisy stuff within the basement-venue depths of society.
Few infuse such a sense of self-parodying mirth with powerviolence fervour as little-known Norwegian newcomers RAT LORD. Based in Bergen, the band features guitarist/vocalist Yngve Andersen and drummer Sigurd Haakaas, both from Blood Command, along with bassist Martine Green.
Metal-adjacent genres have always taken an easy target at the genre—we’re known for being a pseudo-intellectual, brooding, and deep group of people. Something I’ve personally always appreciated about the constant stable of ‘core/punk/powerviolence/grind bands in my listening repertoire is exactly the ethos delivered on this short, sharp nail-biter of an LP.
I mean, dude. C’mon, the album is titled Blazed In The Northern Sky.
If that doesn’t give you fair warning to leave your bespectacled, cognac-swirling metalhead tendencies at the door, then the violent exhalation of opener “North of Hell” will blow that shit right off your face and out into the street, in tatters. A gang-chant-heavy salvo of blasting rolls, Strapping Young Lad-styled tremolos, and directive barks act to sneer in the face of posturing.
The power trio don’t give time for pretty interludes or 4-minute exploratory space-rock instrumentals after such a short, violent assault either. 'No Dogs, No Masters' rolls through the door with rumbling punk d-beat, a cacophony of screeches about “Fuck your affiliation, your association, your resignation!”. We’re urged to prepare ourselves for our own humiliation by the reverb-heavy choir of punksters, barely having had time to process the first track. Wait, what?! We’re off again?!
Cue a mental image of a noir detective in a snowstorm, whirling his coat and firmly clasping his beloved bowler hat. Hang on tight there, little metal-man, ‘cause the title track 'Blazed In The Northern Sky' is only going to give you a brief remission before launching back into something completely unexpected. Echoing sentiments of warbly Jesus Lizard-like vocals, interspersed with poppy choruses above a very straight-up punk scaffold, it’s tropey and fun as hell. I could see this track sitting just as comfortably on the former artists’ discog in a split EP, but I’m also equally envisioning a bunch of gutter punks in hoodies opening for, say, Queens of The Stone Age or Dune Rats.
In my mind, this and the catastrophic breakdown serve as a big middle finger to pandering across the board. Yes, this includes fellow powerviolence bands, the grind scene, etc. But fear not, extreme-heads! 'Raised on Kneipp' (first single release, see link below) fulfills exactly what you’d expect as one such after-dinner mint—blastbeats, tremolo, no-fucks-given punky roars, shouts, and screams aplenty.
It’s all over in 90 seconds, but it’s a satisfying palate-cleanser... to the palate-cleanser?
They haven’t finished fiddling with musical levers just yet, though, friends. Take the intro to 'Now Diabetical' (dude, these song titles are great!)—you can just see the contortionist across the faces of hardcore-bros as the familiar, safe 4/4 bass rumble stomp is completely swept from under the rug in eight seconds.
Upping more of the black-metal aspects here, we cop those familiar atonal arpeggios and tremolo of the aforementioned genre. That said, it’s sparsely sprinkled in amongst the shouting-at-you-in-a-dungeon punk aesthetic. No hint of false pretenses about being blackened this, crossover that—just kicking your musical arse by doing as they please on the six-string.
Genre flexibility in a very I-could’t-give-less-of-a-shit multi-vocal sneer is ramped up once more, as we’re kicked down the stairs by Doc Martens into the grindier territory via 'Wo-Tan Clan'. Continuing to stomp around with some fun vocal moments, this is a much more focused minute of blasts and riffs. Proof that the band have the capacity to rein things in for a more focused attack.
'100,000' hand-waves all that away and goes full Terror/Agnostic Front-style hardcore. After 37 seconds, you’re just grasping your bearings (even if you’re an aficionado of the short-’n’-sharp) before having three boots pressed on your head into the concrete. Not literally, I hope, but such is the jovial lack of concern for following schema of any kind with 'Hehemoth'. This track feels like the one where they decided to measure out sub-genre ingredients more carefully, but the blackened punk-grind blast refuses to elaborate and then the entire experience totters off before you even realized it was there. In a good way.
Regaining some measure of composure, I then literally burst out laughing so hard my cat jumped upon hearing the Little Britain-inspired refrain of 'I Am The Only Punk In This Village', which asks Discharge if it can buy them some beer and then proceeds to stomp drunkenly around their house, spit profanities about the scene, and leave. Without shoes.
It’s not long before they’re back, though, with the absolutely epic three and a half minute Turbonegro-inspired 'Party Like It’s 1349' (amazing title, again). Refusing to play their own game, the LP closer injects some melodic post-hardcore style refrains and a decidedly prim-and-proper structure, rounding out a completely hectic piss-take on just about everything on the punk-metal spectrum in a beautiful way. The lilting bluesy solo that rounds things out just adds to both the sense of careless fun and a genuine appreciation for all the styles effortlessly and cleverly pastiched into this brief album.
Seriously, it’s over so fast it warrants multiple listens in a row just to be able to grasp all the clever stylistic changes throughout. The humdrum workaday closer 'bYggdrasil' feels intentionally cut right in half, echoing Frenzal Rhomb’s mid/down-tempo numbers from the 2000s in its refusal to tighten up. Sounding like a brief refrain you’d hear the one older crust-punk at a weekday gig belting out the door as security escort him and his beer-drenched jacket back into the urban night, it’s deliberately and promptly ended with the simple “you gotta know”.
Wait. Huh? Woah.
Did... did these guys just pull a goddamn Cadbury Celebrations box on me? Are these Norwegian upstarts somehow weaving Fun-Size chocolate-style marketing into their own sound?! ‘Cause since beginning this review, I’ve had to listen to Blazed three times. Not just due to brevity, mind, but just because of the abject aloofness that comes delivered in such a competent package.
I love that there are bands out there embracing the no-care-no-how of old punk lore, but also refusing to be complicit with sloppy practices in the same attempt to mein the more raucous, experimental scene vanguards of the late 70's onwards.
Tight, punchy, satirical, fun.
Put down the Rivers of Nihil, stop grooming your beard for the fortieth time this week, that goth-GF isn’t going to leap at your latest e-heroism, bro. Check out the link, have some (capital-F) Fun. Just like y’all remember from when we were kids, right?
That's my proclamation, if any, from this release. Have some fun, folks. These guys sure are.
It’s an exercise in pure heavy mirthfulness.
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Be sure to grab this narky banger when it releases, courtesy of Loyal Blood Records via artist/label links below:
Links:
https://www.facebook.com/thetrueratlord
https://thetrueratlord.bandcamp.com
https://www.instagram.com/thetrueratlord
https://www.facebook.com/loyalbloodrecords
https://www.instagram.com/loyalbloodrecords