Review by Mandeep Arora on July 22, 2024.

If you are of the opinion that Cult of Luna is only about those expansive post-metal soundscapes, then, well, think again. Eternal Kingdom is their fifth full-length release and a far more straightforward effort in comparison, one which eschews those vast and repetitive compositions to embrace a more in-your-face sludge metal sound. This lends it a rather conventional ethos in how it's executed and feels, especially if you're coming fresh off of Salvation or Somewhere Along the Highway. The songs get shorter, the structures more defined; it's an evidently different style but still Cult of Luna all right, mostly attributed to the guitar tone that gives it away from the outset. This change in direction and sound doesn't sit too well with some, which is understandable, but I also cannot deny the sheer appeal it holds as a whole. It's absurdly heavy in some sections, probably their heaviest and densest, and there's zero time wasted in making its presence felt. Owlwood, devoid of a long or repetitive intro, instantly gets down to business with what is a cluster of impossibly heavy riffs to crush you underneath them and hook you to the sound, though the outro's the complete opposite - the soft instrumental fade out is kind of ominous and atmospheric that would serve as a great soundtrack if you're lost in eerie and unknown woods with no way out and aboriginal tribes are incessantly chasing you down for the hunt. My apologies if I get too descriptive in describing the scenes I conjure up courtesy of this album, it seems to have become a recurring theme in nearly all of my reviews. But metal's always been like that for me, evocative and imaginative, and such a rich exposure to a myriad of varied and divergent sounds that it's impossible to not let my imagination run wild. Somehow, this album reminds me of the film Wrong Turn from 2021; a rather shitty one in case you're curious but the atmosphere and setting seem eerily similar. If you pay close attention to the lyrics, very deftly written and apparently their best, they kind of depict a story along similar lines too...

It's one of their shortest albums but only just so. If you're the type who instinctively checks the song lengths before anything else, you wouldn't find it as intimidating as their other releases because none of the songs, barring Ghost Trail, exceed the 10-minute mark. This is rather unusual to witness in a Cult of Luna album but as you move on, and actually give it a spin, you kind of start appreciating their shorter footprint, with structures that are seemingly tighter and more palatable. Of course, if you're a fan of the long buildups of yore or the seamless switch between the sombre and heavier sections, then you will lament the lack of those elements here. But certain sections do seem to embody similar energy and consequently sound quite majestic - there's no way you'll not appreciate the final minutes of Ghost Trail when those cavernous riffs deliver a sudden knockout blow and scoop crazy velocity with every passing second. It's in essence the closest song to their past compositions that comprises of an enormous buildup towards the outro, involuntarily lifting the hairs on your forearms and making your shoulders shudder. Mire Deep is another great example that stands out, comprising of a broody bridge section that evokes nautical vibes within me for some reason inexplicable. It also rocks one of the band's catchiest riffs that can elicit a strong emotional reaction out of you; I think it's a guaranteed headbanging moment on the album where you inadvertently grab hold of your air guitar and start belting out those fantastic riffs, crinkled face muscles and all... The main pursuit here, to my understanding, has been of a structured and catchier sound and they succeed at it for the better part. The short instrumental tracks that act as interludes have distinct personalities of their own and actually add an odd air of tension to the sound, Österbotten being a primary example; it's a rather unconventional and spacey-sounding number that brings to mind Borgne's Y and its cosmic dispositions.

With melting minutes, you begin to bond with the album. The production is fabulous, characterful and nuanced, with impressive and buzzing guitars and blaring basslines. The drums sound like distant artillery shots thudding up the background, a proper throwback to their past releases. Overall, the album has a very linear flow and runs Somewhere Along the Highway real close as a cohesive all-round package. The songs may be different structurally but nearly all of them boast of a similar atmosphere - a thick, stifling backdrop that's within a breadth of your physical being and spawns immense intimidation to the point where it feels choking. It's also one of their faster albums, even if only some sections and only a handful of songs pull all that weight - Following Betulas is pretty damn fast from the get-go and the final minutes of Ghost Trail, as I already ascribed, are rather fleet-footed. The closing moments are both astonishing and bizarre - astonishing because you wallow in some fantastic progression that includes a few hefty doom metal-esque riffs and some deliciously thick bass. Bizarre because said riffs briskly fade into ebullient-sounding trumpets that honestly shouldn't have any place in a menacing atmosphere such as this, or so you think initially. Even the drums start treading on patterns similar to that of a victory march, like resurrection of entities of these untrodden woods, now marching on to annihilate and conquer the presiding human race. It all seems a bit offbeat, in a setting that's already offbeat, but listening to this paradigm shift in conjunction with the lyrics makes things much more appropriate and fitting. During this album's release, they had been circulating this captivating story about finding a madman's diary in an abandoned mental institution that then served as inspiration for the lyrics, only to discard it years later as a big hoax and therefore killing all the intrigue with it. Wouldn’t it have been genuinely fascinating if that was the actual origin story? Rather, it just propounds that this album, awesomely wrought as it is, has had some conventional and less interesting origins. Bah.

Mystifying originations or not, there's no denying the imposing aura of the album art, to my eyes their best one by a long shot. Vertikal's another stunning one that comes to mind, seeming like an appropriate pictorial depiction of their grey and dismal sound, but Eternal Kingdom's more expressive and kind of esoteric, like for a cult. And that's how you'd describe even the sound; it's definitely not as upstaged as Salvation or Somewhere Along the Highway and it may be a bit too serious for its own good, an acquired taste in this already-rarefied genre. But it also seems leaner and tighter, like all the excess bloat has been carved away to leave what is a stunning, crisp collection of varying sound effects that work cohesively as a singular unit. This just cements how good Cult of Luna as a band is; they gave it traits of their core sound while also ensuring it bawls out its gravitation towards a newer one from the get-go. As I said before, the songs do not beat around the bush and swell crazily with some brutal and massive sections, there being no dearth of catchy and heavy riffs while the song progressions and thick atmosphere ensure you feel ill at ease for the better part of those 60 minutes. Is it a bit much? At times, maybe, but it also feels stupid to moan about what is by any measure a quite remarkable sound. Once you resign yourself to this album, the appeal's almost irresistible and gradually but surely, it starts slipping into your list of all-time favourites, the booming crescendos and blasting soundtrack getting your heart pounding as only Cult of Luna can.

Rating: 9.5 out of 10