Macabre black metallers Carach Angren unleash a spectacularly creepy new video

Liberally doused in brimstone and belched up from gothic realms whose wrought iron gates stand a bit further south than Cradle or Dimmu and far beyond the reach of sanity, Carach Angren have proved to be one of the most enthrallingly odd bands in the symphonic black metal canon.

Spurred on by the bloothirsty spirits of the Brothers Grimm, the gleefully sadistic Struwwelpeter cautionary tales and a ravenous thirst for 21st-century debauchery, the band’s last album, This Is No Fairytale, related the tale of two children fleeing a dysfunctional family with a carnivalesque abandon and utter disregard for generic norms.

Having already released one spectacular, Costin Chioreanu-illustrated lyric video for the track There’s No Place Like Home, Carach Angren are about to unveil a cinematic and spectcularly creepy new promo for the intriguingly titled When Crows Tick On Windows, and we have a premiere right here.

Featuring an imperious frontman ordering a group of zombie/doll hybrids into a dance troupe that would give Tim Burton the heebie-jeebies, an outdoor dinner party the Mad Hatter would turn down, masked characters actually bathed in blood and woodland burials, this is a deranged requiem and visual feast that’s the mark of a band who a) know exactly what they’re doing, and b) still utterly batshit crazy.

Sitting comforatably? No sensations of various invertebrates crawling either over or under your skin? Enjoy that while it lasts and dare yourself to enter the unruly, unsettling portal that is When Crows Tick On Windows below!

Tread gingerly upon Carach Angren’s Facebook page here!

Check for nearby witches before treating yourself to This Is No Fairytale here!

Jonathan Selzer

Having freelanced regularly for the Melody Maker and Kerrang!, and edited the extreme metal monthly, Terrorizer, for seven years, Jonathan is now the overseer of all the album and live reviews in Metal Hammer. Bemoans his obsolete superpower of being invisible to Routemaster bus conductors, finds men without sideburns slightly circumspect, and thinks songs that aren’t about Satan, swords or witches are a bit silly.