Trepaneringsritualen — Deathward, To the Womb
Trepaneringsritualen’s Performance & Permanence, released 2014, was revelatory to me and has become my go to act when wanting to listen to truly bleak material. Deathward, To the Womb, available as a CD and limited edition vinyl, represents some of Ekelund’s earliest work.
Deathward, To the Womb offers 6 proper tracks and a special track (available on the digital download accompanying the vinyl and found after several blank clicks on the CD) not available on the original release. Right out the gate we’re greeted to some of the most haunting and bleak music I’ve had the pleasure of gluing my ears to. The album starts with “The Birth of Babalon” a short piece of dense atmospherics, plodding organic thuds, and heavily delayed vocals. The vocals are downright chilling, reminding me of something you might find on a barely functional tape recorder in the cellar of an abandoned cabin in the woods. For those interested, the lyrics on this album are based on writings by Frater T.O.P.A.N. about the goddess Babalon. No surprise with Ekelund’s penchant for the occult. The utter eeriness continues with the title track “Deathward to the Womb.” Rippling pulses and slicing highs, are delivered through thick fog fidelity. What’s striking is how primitive this sounds and mean that as a resounding positive. “Osiris, Slain & Risen” unfolds in similar fashion as the previous piece, the vocals having slightly more clarity, yet still indiscernible.
“She is the Flame of Life” offers a much more buoyant and rapid pulse, still suffocated in a think blanket of blackened ambient drone. “Sacrament & Crucifixion” offers the repetitive sound (or what appears to be) of a reverberating suspension coil over ritualistic chants, bringing Babalon that much closer to our world. “All Hail the Black Flame” is the final proper track and also happens to be the album’s most rhythmic track. A constant throbbing beat nestled in blackness recalls some of Trepaneringsritualen’s more recent works. This all leads up to the bonus track “I Remember When I Was God.” An epic, near 13 minute track that could easily be considered a ritual to bring about the end of the world, or at least summon some demons. Multiple vocal stylings, from gruff shouting to monkish chanting to straight singing, electro-acoustic clanging, and quiet moments, certainly make it the most disturbing and haunting piece on the album. One not soon to be forgotten.
Deathward, To the Womb took a few listens to fully appreciate, but the payoff was well worth the patience and perseverance. Dark music for dark minds. No sunshine to be found here. A truly bleak listening experience.