Oranssi Pazuzu: VÄRÄHTELIJÄ

Blackened cosmonauts pass point of no return

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If the black metal purist acts are like the Satanic version of a Catholic mass, then Oranssi Pazuzu are the evil equivalent of American Evangelical ministries.

Traditional they’re not – on Värähtelijä, you’d be forgiven for not spotting that it’s part of the same thing. But the sense of mesmeric reverie, of something dramatically sordid and unrestrained, is black metal to its core.

The basis is psychedelic guitars and electronics with black metal shrieks, but that description barely scratches the surface of a record littered with different sounds and textures. You can listen to Värähtelijä seven times and still feel like you’re only just starting to get a grip on the individual components. This is down to the metric fuck-ton of different ideas they’re hurling at your ears – but that’s only a small part.

Värähtelijä does something that its brilliant predecessor Valonielu flirted with: hypnosis. There’s no build-up involved. Oranssi Pazuzu mesmerise you to the point any perception of where you are in the structure of the album is impossible, and it’s difficult to have any reaction to what you’re listening to. Suddenly, you’re 25 minutes in and Hypnotisoitu Viharukous is cutting loose in biting, icy guitars, and you’re sparked from your reverie just long enough to take in how fucking terrified you are.

There’s a trance-like quality to Värähtelijä that’s part black metal at its most autistic and repetitious and part a horrific perversion of 1960s drugged-up bohemia. If Valonielu was the twisted party where you read a forbidden text, tried an illicit substance you’re scared of, and gave into that lust you’re ashamed of, this is the point it’s gone too far, and you’re feeling strung out, guilt-ridden and wretched. Black metal at its filthy, bleak best is frightening, but this is like being wrapped up in a fevered terror. A twisted, guilty joy.