Today we're talking new music from Oriska, an outfit whose sound is fresh yet familiar. They're one of those incredible bands who slip in and out of different genres with ease. The septet's self-titled album was just released (as of the publishing of this article). The physical media is a a joint release between INIT Records and Mind Over Matter Records.

Throughout the record you'll hear traditional stringed instruments, piano, brooding instrumental sections, heaps of distorted guitars, raucous drums.. The list goes on and on and on. Examining the pedigree of the septet, whose previous projects include Battlefields, Eclipse of Eden, Dispensing of False Halos, and Sleeping in Gethsemane, and it's no wonder that influences are vast. In some back and forth with their vocalist, Rusty, he wrote the following regarding their influences, "Old screamo, mid-00 post-meta,l etc… bands from Buried Inside, Fall of Efrafa, Funeral Diner, Envy… " Clearly this record is right at home with all of those bands.

"Sulfur" starts off the record and the opening bow pulled across cello strings really sets the mood, dark and cinematic, anxious and worrisome. Piano chords accompany the arrangement, the decay of the notes hang in the air before transitioning into something that veers toward atmo-black. The vocals are present and forward without trodding on the instrumentation. The track treats the listener to a quieter passage, fraught with emotion, what we'd expect from a group so influenced by post-metal. This dance of the heightened pace into the prominent cello and delayed guitar lines is mimicry of life, its joy and misery.

Second track, "Helium," adds new layers of complexity to the foundation the band has started. Here we see the band leverage more and more of the guitars, weaving lead lines in and out of the track, with more open and expansive passages of huge-sounding chords. The middle of the track explores the lower register, bringing in some skillful bass riffing. As the song comes to its close we're treated to to this slow, plodding piano lead which accompanies several voices in unison overtop of the anthemic guitar riffs.

"THE ALBUM RELAYS A DEEP PROFOUND SENSE OF ANXIETY, DEPRESSION, GRIEVING OF LOSS, AND A GREAT SADNESS.”

- RUSTY STEELE @oriskaband

The third track continues to follow the formula the band has laid out for itself. Haunting cello and an eerie guitar riff set the course for slow, low, and distorted tones. And here, on "Boron," is where I felt so much of the anguish and despair. That unrelenting force, that notion that sometimes shit won't get any better, at least not for a long time. It hit me in the way that Giles Corey demanded more weight in the Crucible, fate was sealed. This track is also the track that had me thinking of Fall of Efrafa / Lightbearer, as it hits the midway point -- the riffs here reek of that brand of metallic crust, and the drums are giving way to something that feels d-beat-esque in its nature.

"Hydrogen" is the penultimate track on the five-song album. This track gives some of the greatest shades of doom metal, but the barely overdriven guitar, laden with reverb and delay that the previous section gives way to drops the listener into the pit of despair as the vocals come in. There is a depth here, in the way the guitars play with and play off from one another. Then when the cinematic guitar lead comes in at 3:51 I ride a high wave. It's soaring, lifting the listener, before we're brought crashing back to reality as the the final 40-some seconds grinds our bones across the land.

The closing track, "Bismuth," clocks in at just over 10-minutes and is every bit the closer you would expect it to be. It was a bold track to be released as a single, but I'll be damned if I wasn't captivated from the get-go. What I loved about the opening of the track is the density of the layers. Opening with the strings and gently transitioning to this guitar riff that is crusty, grimy, subjectively the tone is a bit gross, but the layers of guitar build, adding texture.

We get big chords that open, we get a galloping riff over top of that, before we get that tremolo picked riff.. there is a build up, to more build up, to more (before returning to what came before) and it's done in a way that doesn't feel contrived. There's a seismic shift a little over 3 and half minutes in. Like the footfalls of giants on the permafrost of the Great Plains as the song thunders ahead while the song laments: I'm still trying to figure it out. I get it, so am I.

Halfway through "Bismuth" now we get a soaring lead, tasteful and melodic, which transitions nicely into more tremolo picking and double bass. An interlude, more ambience and strings, and they're the forefront here, driving us home, that low, resonant pull of the bow across the cello strings. A chorus of voices, the damned, plague by despair, and the demons who oppose them, oppose us all, scream out: I'm guilty, I'm on my knees.

This record is plate-tectonic-thick. I must've listened to it damn near 20 times as I prepared myself for writing this. It has a bit for damn near everybody to get behind. I can feel the winds of despair that blow across the Great Plains states most of the band members call home. I can feel the crushing loneliness of the lengthening of night as the lack of sun draws the warmth from my bones..

If you found yourself gravitating to the despair and pain of bands like Infant Island, listen to this record. If you're constantly reaching into your catalog for records from Suffocate for Fuck Sake, Cult of Luna, or Fall of Efrafa, then spin this record. Pinning for reverb drenched atmo-black, something to scratch the itch of Falls of Rauros or Downfall of Gaia... then do yourself a favor, head to Mind Over Matter or INIT Records and buy yourself a copy if it hasn't sold out, and get caught up in this fantastic release from Oriska.