Review by Dominik on December 28, 2024.

Sometimes I wonder why there are still people roaming the streets of Stockholm or Malmö, because it seems that there's a covert government initiative encouraging citizens to abandon urban life for the mossy embrace of the forest. Haven't they all packed up, moved into the woods, and taken up residence in derelict cottages, where wolves roam freely under the moonlight? It seems like the ideal setting for founding yet another black metal band. After all, how else can we explain the endless stream of acts erupting like fungal blooms from the undergrowth?

From one of these solitary retreats comes Aspernamentum (monster), a one-man band that's risen from the frostbitten ashes—or more likely, the ashes of someone else's funeral pyre—to deliver Primal Judgement Manifesto. From the very first note, it's clear that the man behind the music is neck-deep in the dark arts, channeling the spirits of Sweden's legendary black metal forebears, proving once again that this country has perfected the genre like IKEA perfected allen wrenches.

This four-track EP is a more-than-solid debut and a competent assault on your auditory nerves, though 'Vessel of Enlightenment (Black Flame Manifestation)' does fall a bit short of the quality set by its neighbors. I wish I could tell you that Aspernamentum breaks new ground here, but I can't—and that may well be the secret of Primal Judgement Manifesto. It doesn't innovate, and it doesn't care. By staying comfortably within the well-worn boundaries of the genre, it avoids falling into any pretentious traps and delivers exactly what you'd expect.

Let's break it down for clarity. Production-wise, the album embraces that harsh, frostbitten aesthetic we all pretend to love but secretly appreciate because it hides mistakes. It is raw enough to honor black metal's early roots, with tremolo riffs, blast beats, and vocals that sound like they were recorded from the depths of a charred well. But there is one standout feature: the bass. This often-overlooked, underappreciated background actor instrument takes a surprisingly prominent role, holding its own against the other instruments without being drowned out. Its commanding presence is apparent from the first track, delivering a low-end backbone that's both refreshing and slightly alarming—did someone finally read the bass player's union demands? At about 3:25, when the guitars momentarily retreat, the bass steps forward with a vengeance, proving it can be a driving force when given the spotlight. This is perhaps the advantage of a one-man project—no band politics, no egos clashing over who gets most attention.

Aspernamentum's sole member brings previous experience from other bands, and it shows in the EP's professional approach. The band is neither overindulging in endless, drawn-out efforts to create a bleak picture of a black nothingness, nor is it constantly bathing in bloodthirsty aggression. There's a clear understanding of when to unleash pure ferocity and when to pull back for atmospheric effect. The opener sets the tone for the EP's overall quality, but the real highlights are 'To Pledge Allegiance to the Void Beyond' and the closer, 'Of Condemnation, Death and the Holy Ghost'. The former kicks off with a melodic riff that feels quintessentially Swedish, supported by fast drumming and that ever-reliable bass. After a short, well-timed break, the main riff returns with renewed urgency, reaching its peak around the three-minute mark. The closer follows a similar structure, though its slower sections—punctuated by heavy double bass—add a level of intensity that sets it apart. The track fades out with some purposeless noise, which is a little anticlimactic but hardly a dealbreaker.

Primal Judgement Manifesto doesn't change the world—or even the genre—but it doesn't need to. It's a snarling, frost-covered tribute to black metal's unholy legacy, executed with the precision of someone who's spent many long nights staring into the void of a dark and desolate forest. If this is what happens when Swedes embrace hermit life, perhaps the entire population should be issued free cabins.

Rating: 79 out of 100, because this EP proves that sometimes the best way forward is to look backward–with grim determination.