Offret - Зверь Review

I have made mention a number of times the underground music scene quietly building in some of the coldest reaches of Russia.

Over the past few years, a number of bands have exploded out of the country, pulling the fabric of black metal apart, either through the way of angry, frenetic, gut-shredding blackened hardcore from the likes of Supruga or Morokh, or through thunderous, bone-rattling post-black metal, in the shape of Somn, Trna, Olhava and Show Me a Dinosaur. As the two burgeoning scenes grow, it was only a matter of time before an act would expand the genre further, and find common ground between the two.

That act is Offret. Initially a one-man project from Nizhny Novgorod-based musician Andrey Prokofiev, it has since expanded to include bandmates Maxim Emelyanov and Alexey Petrov, culminating in the doom-ladened, explosive body of work known as Зверь (which I've been reliably informed means "The Beast").

The title track opener explodes in with black metal's searing searing tremolo riffs, undertoned by the dirgy, haze-riddled rhythm section that has become synonymous with the scene. The slow decrease in speed evolves the song into an industrial wasteland of war drums and filthy bass guitar.

The album's atmospheric side starts to peak its head from track 3 with the interlude track "Данакиль" (meaning "Danakil" and is itself preceded by the wonderful "Огонь"/"Flames"). Sombre orchestration soon morphs into ambient noise, setting up for the foreboding "Любовь" ("Love"), a slow burner that represents the image of how Offret wants to be seen. Featuring Ksenia of Supruga, the production on the song straddles a delicate, fine line, washing each instrument track into a wall of harsh noise, but all the while, still hearing the droning riffs and the blasts of drums.

As the rest of the album continues, "Тень" ("The Shadow") is a dark blast of latter-day Anaal Nathrakh-inspired riffs, soundtracking dark, cryptic lyrics of emptiness, with shrilling guitar parts that line-up alongside Behemoth at their most theatrical.

The album ends with the one-two of the droning ambience in interlude track "Алтарь" ("Altar") and "Наследники" ("The Inheritors"), and a dark folk finale that sits on the same dark and spooky shelf as Sweden's Shining in their acoustic moments (see "Mot Aokigahara" or "In the Cold Light of Morning" from their latest album).

Whilst it does bring me sadness not being able to practise my Russian pronunciation in these written word times, Зверь has served up a dark yet glorious banquet of atmospheric and extreme metal. English translations of lyrics offer a new side of the album, showing that the rabid onslaught you are listening to are commentaries of fear, human struggles and violence that stand alone in their own right, but take on a new face in current day affairs.

Offret then sits comfortably amongst their peers, adding another layer to the ever-growing pit of glorious evil emanating from Mother Russia.