The term ‘post-metal’ has become somewhat of an albatross in recent years due to a glut of artists looking to cash in on its moody and (comparatively) accessible sound. Sludge, ambient, and post-rock trudging forward, slowly developing towards that climactic point we all find momentary transcendence within – what’s not to love, at least in concept? That said, this new wave of post-metal acts tend to have only that one goal in mind, and the journey there can be pretty unremarkable otherwise, even tedious. The bands that have stood out during this time have mostly been older groups branching outside of the formula by partnering with like-minded musicians – Cult of Luna collaborating with Julie Christmas on 2016’s breathtaking Mariner, Emma Ruth Rundle crossing over with sludge mainstays Thou on 2020’s May Our Chambers Be Full, even grindcore stalwarts Full of Hell enlisting shoegaze’s premier sadbois Nothing for 2023’s intriguing/frustrating/gorgeous When No Birds Sang. Meanwhile, other groups like Belgium’s Brutus have blended post-metal’s atmospheric tremolo guitar and despondent vocals with hardcore punk’s frantic pace to highly enjoyable results. Also hailing from Belgium, the long-running collective Amenra re-enter the fray to push the traditional sounds of post-metal even further into uncharted waters.
It may surprise even the band’s fans that Amenra has been around for over 25 years. Since the band’s formation in 1999, the core trio of vocalist, guitarist and drummer have remained unchanged, casting their later development in a fascinating light. Their earliest work – 2003’s Mass I: Prayer I-VI – was a maelstrom of hardcore chaos, dissonant guitar feedback and delay over Alice In Chains-esque bass plunking, and desperate screeching from vocalist Colin H. van Eeckhout.
However, the band has continued to play with fan expectations over the years, extending the lengths of their songs and working in more lush, cinematic qualities – their last full-length album, 2021’s De Doorn, began with a 10-minute song that spent half its running time replete with droning keyboard effects and subtle spoken word before the drums, distortion, and shrieking came in – a progression that may seem formulaic on paper but, in Amenra‘s case, is perfectly natural and effective on impact. It is a testament to the band’s skill in songwriting that the guitar lines and structures are as memorable as they are given just how dense and plodding post-metal regularly is.
Never ones to rest on their laurels, the band has seen fit to throw another curveball to their fans with the twin release of De Toorn and With Fang and Claw. Dropped the same day on March 28th, it begs the question: why not combine them into a standard full-length, instead of these two separate EPs? Is it just a release gimmick, or is there something more to this strategy? Thankfully, these are two distinct releases showcasing the strengths of the multiple approaches Amenra take with their sound.
De Toorn, similarly to its namesake release De Doorn, opens subtly with the 13-minute “Heden” – simple, ambient percussion accompanied by clean guitar lines and spoken word. It is meditative and relaxing, yet also brooding and ominous; a tough balancing act to pull off, but seasoned pros like these know just how to work the listener before pulling the rug out. Even so, the band continues to wring anticipation from their gradually building compositions – around the 7-minute mark, the guitar climbs higher, the bass begins pulsating, and van Eeckhout’s vocals move into a Thom Yorke-esque soft croon. Finally, nearly 10 minutes into the track, the band explodes out of the gate with their signature bulldozing riffs and spine-tingling screaming. The riff that follows recalls vintage doom metal, bringing to mind the work of the mighty Yob at their finest and most affecting. It’s a stunning way to begin De Toorn, and with only two songs per EP, it’s essential to begin each one with something this good.
The title track that follows, “De Toorn (Talisman)”, has a bit more going on from the jump: the drums begin in procession with snare rolls while the guitar loops around above, before adding in some cymbal work that pushes the tempo ever so slightly. It creates a sense of dread even though what’s happening isn’t overtly malevolent, although the spoken word going on at the same time certainly provides this section with some roiling malice. After a few minutes of instrumental twirling, the drums drop out and the clean guitar ascends…can you guess what happens next? Probably, but nothing can prepare you for just how devastating it sounds. Drummer Bjorn J. Lebon admirably takes a backseat here, playing only on the quarter notes to emphasize the band’s doomy roots, while the guitarist Mathieu J. Vandekerckhove alternately matches him and recontextualizes the twinkling clean guitar melodies from earlier in the song. From here, the band members pick up the pace, filling the space with cymbal crashing and melancholy guitar lines, while van Eeckhout reaches into his lower growl for some color. De Toorn, which lasts 25 minutes across these two songs, is masterful in its construction and impact. It showcases Amenra at their most emotionally in-tune, taking their time to hit their intended bullseye of downcast metal with aplomb.
On With Fang and Claw, Amenra takes the opposite approach. After a relatively brief 45-second intro, the band busts into opening track “Forlorn” with another emotive, churning groove; that is, until the distortion falls away and leaves a slow, clean beat as the stark backdrop for van Eeckhout’s anguished wailing. When the distortion kicks back in, he layers a deep growl underneath himself while the riff spirals downward. This back-and-forth continues throughout the song, giving it drive, focus, and character for the remainder of its eight minutes. Immediately, With Fang and Claw presents itself as the inversion of its sister EP: rather than steadily building to a foregone, purgative ending moment, Amenra weaves these sounds more cohesively into its songwriting here. The following “Salve Mater” wastes no time starting with a bang with what could easily be a black metal riff if not for the drums pounding away in half-time. Easily the most straightforward song on either EP, “Salve Mater” seethes and stomps for all of its six minutes, save for a brief clean section two-thirds of the way through – which, notedly, doesn’t ruin the momentum of the song but impressively gives it more character, more menace.
It’s a fittingly depressive downer of an ending that leaves one wanting more from both sides of Amenra showcased on these two EPs: the shrewd songcraft of De Toorn, and the metallic crunch of With Fang and Claw. The band made the right move separating these four mammoth songs into two distinct releases, each with their own personalities and satisfactions. Post-metal is in good hands with bands like this digging their heels in and finding fresh ways of showing themselves off.
