Review by Felix on January 1, 2022.

Úlfarr hail from Cumbria and therefore they have decided to call their style Cumbrian black metal. Now that we know this term, we are as clever as before. Anyway, if we take The Ruins Of Human Failure as a benchmark, we learn that the Cumbrian kind of black metal commutes between bestiality (especially part two of the quartered title track) and ambient soundscapes (the closer). I prefer the raw side of the band – but wait, “band” is a euphemism. There is only one artist and a drum computer.

'Cold In Death', the aforementioned closer, does nothing but snoring a primitive guitar line again and again. The excessively arranged 'Forgotten By Time' shows a more vital approach and the harsh, throaty and distorted vocals bring the brutality of the band / project to life. Slowly but steadily, the song is getting more and more intensive and faster and therefore it adds value to the EP. Tremolo picking and a cold atmosphere shape this Burzum-inspired track. Honestly speaking, I thought that Cumbria is a county in north-western England. Yet this track sounds as if it had been directly imported from the snowy forests of Norway.

The four pieces of The Ruins Of Human Failure show the real strength of Úlfarr. These short whiplashes are reduced to the essentials and sound almost like a combination of black metal with a pinch of punk. No frills, just roughshod devastation. The computer gets into a sweat in view of the partly hyper-fast rhythms, the totalitarian riffing knows no clemency and the lead vocalist spits out his vulgarities and insults. Far away from experiments, innovation and dilutions, the Cumbrian guy delivers exactly what I like to hear: a lump of raw meat in sonic form. By the way, the production builds a good foundation for this form, because it delivers a dense and hostile atmosphere.

Úlfarr is active since 2011 and their discography is pretty strange (two live albums, no studio full-length). Frankly speaking, their back catalogue looks like the one of non-creative wannabes. But most songs of the here reviewed EP speak another language. It would be great if they would give us the chance to check their potential over the distance of a full album. Until then you can listen to this vicious EP from time to time.

Rating: 7.3 out of 10

Review by Felix on January 1, 2022.

Úlfarr hail from Cumbria and therefore they have decided to call their style Cumbrian black metal. Now that we know this term, we are as clever as before. Anyway, if we take The Ruins Of Human Failure as a benchmark, we learn that the Cumbrian kind of black metal commutes between bestiality (especially part two of the quartered title track) and ambient soundscapes (the closer). I prefer the raw side of the band – but wait, “band” is a euphemism. There is only one artist and a drum computer.

'Cold In Death', the aforementioned closer, does nothing but snoring a primitive guitar line again and again. The excessively arranged 'Forgotten By Time' shows a more vital approach and the harsh, throaty and distorted vocals bring the brutality of the band / project to life. Slowly but steadily, the song is getting more and more intensive and faster and therefore it adds value to the EP. Tremolo picking and a cold atmosphere shape this Burzum-inspired track. Honestly speaking, I thought that Cumbria is a county in north-western England. Yet this track sounds as if it had been directly imported from the snowy forests of Norway.

The four pieces of The Ruins Of Human Failure show the real strength of Úlfarr. These short whiplashes are reduced to the essentials and sound almost like a combination of black metal with a pinch of punk. No frills, just roughshod devastation. The computer gets into a sweat in view of the partly hyper-fast rhythms, the totalitarian riffing knows no clemency and the lead vocalist spits out his vulgarities and insults. Far away from experiments, innovation and dilutions, the Cumbrian guy delivers exactly what I like to hear: a lump of raw meat in sonic form. By the way, the production builds a good foundation for this form, because it delivers a dense and hostile atmosphere.

Úlfarr is active since 2011 and their discography is pretty strange (two live albums, no studio full-length). Frankly speaking, their back catalogue looks like the one of non-creative wannabes. But most songs of the here reviewed EP speak another language. It would be great if they would give us the chance to check their potential over the distance of a full album. Until then you can listen to this vicious EP from time to time.

Rating: 7.3 out of 10