Kvelertak

Kvelertak are something of a revelation. Yes, we’ve been hearing good things about the hardcore/punk influenced sextet, but you don’t realise just how good until you see them in the flesh. Looking so
comfortable on stage you’d think they were born on it, the Norwegians rock, roll, groove, scream, jump and growl their way through a set that takes the hungover and bludgeons the holy hell out of them.
Watching these guys live is akin to seeing a demolition derby on top of a minefield, such is the raw energy and power they put into each song. Surely, a performance like this portends bigger things to come. - Metal Hammer

Kvelertak‘s self-titled debut is easy listening. I don’t mean it sounds like Lionel Richie or anything – I mean it’s easy to listen to. It’s like punk-metal’s answer to a beach book – it’s just good, fun entertainment that doesn’t require too much effort or thought. Of course, there’s cotton candy and there’s gourmet candy, and Kvelertak are definitely Godiva. It’s not pop and there’s no reason to feel guilty for liking it, but it’s still bound to put you in a pretty good mood.


As their name would suggest, Kvelertak are Norwegian, and their lyrics are sung entirely in Norwegian – which is kind of an interesting contrast with the music, which is neither brooding nor grim, but, rather, upbeat and vivacious. At the end of the day, Kvelertak really just play a simple, metallicized form of rock n’ roll; it might appeal to the hardcore kids, but would likely strike a stronger note with fans of old Mastodon, Baroness, and their ilk. (That John Baizley supplied the cover art somehow seems less-than-incidental.) Fuck, if not for vocalist Erlend’s black-metal-raw screaming, I’d say the crowd for Kvelertak is probably hipsters and/or Butch Walker fans, or anyone else who is upset that classic rock is dying (or dead, depending on your P.O.V.).

It’s all incredibly energetic, and without fail, incredibly fun. These aren’t Saturday Songs to Get Stoned To so much as they’re Friday Night Bar Fight Anthems. The band makes writing a great hook look easy — any given song on the record could potentially get stuck in your head for days on end — but they have a special talent for building up a song and then just letting it EXPLODE – check out the 0:44 mark on “Mjød,” the first thirty seconds of “Nekroskop,” the 1:33 and the section from 2:21 to 2:52 on “Fossegrim,” or the section around the 1:49 mark of “Blodtørst,” when the band momentarily turns into Tommy-era The Who. (That song also features boogie woogie piano towards the end – which is totally fucking awesome, and more bands should try.)

I’ve been looking for some good warm weather music since April; Kvelertak easily quenches that thirst. Of course, I can’t understand what the fuck they’re singing about, so many the whole album is about coat hanger abortions and the raping of jugular wounds and blah blah blah, but it sure doesn’t sound that way; Kvelertak, the band and the album, are the sound of a good mood. An aggressive mood, sure – but a good one.

Stream the entirety of Kvelertak’s self-titled album here.

-AR



(four outta five horns)

-AR - MetalSucks

My first thought upon encountering Norway's Kvelertak was- as any sane person's would be- what the hell is necro'n'roll? And now I know, and my life is infinitely richer. Follow me, my dear reader, to the place of absolute nonsensical madness, via "Westcoast Holocaust", the soundtrack to losing the few braincells you possessed to begin with.

Some things are beyond description, but I like words, so let's try. It's Fenriz ass-fucking The Hives. It's The Hellacopters drinking moonshine whilst listening to the entire Mayhem back-catalogue. It's a complete racket. And lastly, it's impossible to listen to without smiling. A possible musical reference is Aura Noir, who do a similar thing with black metal and thrash, tongues hovering from cheeks a good deal of the time, or at least so I hope. The spirit of this demo also takes the punk rock gob-shite nature of Darkthrone's "The Cult is Alive" to its least polite conclusion: Kvelertak could easily have penned those ridiculous opening lines of "Graveyard Slut".

"Sandro" and "P-A" are the best tracks- punk riffs played with cold black metal distortion, a harsh and horrible scream smeared over the top. "Eg Rope Utanfor Helvetes Portar, men Ingen Lukke Opp" (“I Scream at the Doors of Hell, but No One Opens”) proves the band know what they're screwing with- a minute of horrible, recorded-in-tupperware sub-Darkthronia. But Kvelertak master the other side of their art too: the bass intro to "Mjød" could make all the trendy bands whose names starts with 'The' burst into tears of jealousy. It is exactly as they say- "black metal- and thrash-inspired punk rock, with a pop-oriented approach". If only that made sense. More frighteningly, by the time catchy, interesting "Kvelertak of Gor" comes around, you realise they might actually go pretty far with this.

Ladies and gents, on "Westcoast Holocaust" the sacred calf of Norwegian black metal has been ritually slaughtered, defiled and served with barbecue sauce. If you've ever even used the word 'pure' you should run away now and hide in a bunker. It should be offensive, but I laughed 'til I hurt myself. The fine lines between funny, genius and plain terrible are definitely danced upon with recklessness, but in the end irrepressible charm wins out. Not so much a demo as a first-class asshole antidote: no one can make you feel bad once you’ve listened to "Suck my Glock" more than twice. If 'irreverent' is a title to which you aspire, you should let "Stavanger's most ridiculous live band" into your home. Just don't blame me when they trash it. - http://www.archaic-magazine.com/article.php?aid=44942