Review by Dominik on May 17, 2025.

Sometimes I wonder if I've unknowingly become a propaganda arm for the Polish Ministry of Culture. Not on purpose, mind you. No badge, no pay, just a persistent attraction to releases from that particular geography. I just keep getting lured by the siren song of Polish black metal—one Bandcamp click at a time—and end up writing about it. This time, like a cursed amulet you know you shouldn't touch but do anyway, the magnetic pull dragged me toward Cień, a band that's been haunting the scene for over 15 years but somehow dodged my radar—until now. Today I regret that... but only partially. How comes?

Their latest offering, Maledictio, is a classic case of "it looked better from across the room". You know that feeling—something about it is alluring from a distance, but when you get up close, start poking around, and really pay attention, you begin to observe the cracks in the façade. It's not a bad album. Not by a long shot. But the closer you listen, the more you start to notice little things that quietly gnaw at your enthusiasm. Like termites. Black-clad, angry termites. It does occasionally stumble in ways that are frustrating because there's so much promise. Let me try to explain.

Musically, the album sits firmly in the black metal camp—but the vocals throw in a twist. There's a wide range here: deep growls, classic black metal rasping, and even a hardcore-esque pitch that wouldn't be out of place on a Woe record (their album "Hope Attrition" comes to mind). It is a brave approach and often gripping, keeps things dynamic, yes, but also a bit disjointed. It makes you stay alert, maybe even anxious. But while the vocal variety is ambitious, the execution doesn't always land. Sometimes the vocals feel stapled on rather than woven into the music, like someone yelling over a track they've never heard before. At times, it sounds like the vocals and the music are having two entirely separate conversations at a noisy dinner party. "Sacred Abnegation" for example suffers from this mismatch. It begins strong, but the vocal transitions start to fray the fabric.

Another issue at times is the pacing. Occasionally, Cień seems determined to stretch out their songs into brooding marathons, even when the material clearly doesn't support the distance. The closing track, "A Curse That Never Withers", takes the prize for unnecessary wandering: there's an ambient-acoustic interlude in there that feels less like a moment of reflection and more like the band collectively went for a smoke break and left the recorder running. It's a shame, because when Cień keeps things focused, they can write gripping songs with a punchy production. Which makes the meandering moments even more frustrating.

Maledictio opens interestingly. "Wounds Of Atonement" makes it clear that this is no background music you can play while ironing your sweaty Venom shirts. The constant change in vocals is as unsettling as it is unpredictable and demands your full attention. The first few minutes of the opener lure you in with a deceptive "calm" (before the storm). It's subtle, uneasy, like you're waiting for a door to slam shut in a horror movie. And when it finally hits, it hits hard. The track then bursts forward with urgency, shifting pace and vocal styles like a nervous ritualist flipping through the wrong grimoire. You never feel settled, which is exactly how this kind of music should make you feel. "Sacred Abnegation" follows with a similar approach. It takes some time to let the tension build up before changing gears. It is more immediate than its predecessor, but from time to time the sudden vocal shifts cross into the "barley digestible" territory. The ideas are there, but they don't always carry through to the finish line.

This problem is clearest on the album's best song, "Discipline". Ironically, it lacks the very thing its title promises. It tears into the listener with blazing riffs and blastbeats, driven by a muscular rhythm section and genuinely compelling songwriting—and then sabotages itself with a completely unnecessary ambient fade-out. For once on this album, I wanted a track to go on longer. And Cień decided to tuck it in early with a lullaby. It doesn't ruin the song, but it certainly trips it on the way out. Still "Discipline" is testament to what slumbers in the band's collective musical brain.

"I.O.B" also deserves praise. It picks things back up with a reflective start that gives way to ferocity. It's another standout, showcasing the band's knack for contrasting dynamics—when they don't overthink it. If "Discipline" is the peak, "I.O.B" is the stable plateau just before the album walks off a cliff and closes on a limp.

So, where does that leave Maledictio? Somewhere between satisfying and slightly maddening. It's not the polished Polish perfection we've heard from other bands, but it's also far from forgettable. It's still worth your time—especially if you like your black metal at times brooding, with a wide vocal range, and occasionally unpredictable. There's a lot to appreciate here—just try not to get too distracted by the moments that pull you out of the experience.

Rating: 7.5 out of 10, because solid ideas deserve a solid execution—and here, the follow-through occasionally took a coffee break.