“Time streaming through the wraith.”
We can all remember records that redefined our understanding of music – what it could be, and what it could mean to us. In 2011, Liturgy’s Aesthethica provided such an upheaval for me. Black metal through polyrhythms, with baffling songwriting that could generate meteoric climaxes. It had incredible performances and unhinged vocal interludes that finalised an atmosphere of bizarre glory. After this, most “blast beat” music felt tame, and I was forever changed.
The triumphant return of Liturgy in 2019 was H.A.Q.Q., now arguably their most well received album, leaving the discourse of previous records far behind. It’s hard to remember anyone complaining about plaid clothes ruining “trve cvlt black metal” after hearing songs like “God of Love”. It also clarified Liturgy’s true goal: to channel “orchestral” as much as “heavy metal”. Almost every part of the orchestra compliments the band on H.A.Q.Q., and Origin of the Alimonies in late 2020 was a deeper adventure into this style. Now, with their true sound fully realised, the new album 93696 threatens to become their new magnum opus.
Liturgy likely cannot be understood fully (if at all) without taking in the philosophy that surrounds it. Much of the thrust against “hipster black metal” Aesthethica found its lightning rod in the hot takes of Hunt-Hendrix, who has doubled down with even more detailed treatises on radical eschatology. She’s somewhere between scholar and shaman (and, when the mood strikes her, shitposter). I must admit that philosophy is not my dominion – after all I’m writing this as a professional riff evaluator [derogatory], so I won’t try my hand interpreting the greater purpose of 93696. However, I have always respected the metaphysical hustle within Liturgy, and been disappointed that others have used it as an excuse to dismiss the band’s work.
In keeping with its lofty themes, 93696 is ordinated into four segments: Sovereignty, Hierarchy, Emancipation, and Individuation. Each contains a few short interludes, but the rest is full-on, heavy Liturgy: so “post” it’s beyond black metal. Guitars are tremolo picked (they go “trrrrrr”) almost all the time, merging perfectly with the swelling strings and crashing percussion. Hunt-Hendrix’s vocal style is a tragic yowl coming from behind the chaos. The average song on 93696 is about 10 minutes long – fans might recall the 20 minute epic Liturgy put out on their split with Oval in 2011, so such lengths are not too surprising, but does make for a daunting experience when the record clocks in at 82 minutes.
Part one (Sovereignty) is an ideal example of Liturgy’s approach on 93696. “Daily Bread” is a glitchy vocal overture to “Djennaration”, the album’s first epic and, immediately, one of the band’s best tracks. Its title is a clever twist on Liturgy’s classic track “Generation” (AKA Meshuggah meets Steve Reich), and Periphery’s hilariously named Periphery V: Djent Is Not A Genre. It’s a thunderous suite playing out all of the band’s classic tricks. The whole ensemble blast-beats along with strings in loose time, yielding to the band for a burst of metal staccato. Already in the first thirty seconds, the argument for the technical heaviness and orchestral combo is won; a sense that Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” crawled so Liturgy could soar. As the raspy vocals enter, they’re juxtaposed against flutes and glitch breaks. The song goes on, crafting build-ups and reprising riffs, easily justifying its runtime. Between the four and six minute mark, an almighty summit is reached by both classical and metal direction. It’s eye-waveringly tragic and dreadful in mood, wrought with agony in the vocal performance, and beauty in classical arrangement. It’s staggering that this doesn’t end the song – the mood collapses, and the rock band takes lead once again, whirling toward eventual conclusion. Liturgy achieve such incredible heights with these tightly-composed crescendos throughout 93696, eclipsing their previous attempts to unify classical with black metal.
The band could more easily have followed with a quiet moment, but the just-as-heavy “Caela” saunters in at a slower tempo, bringing a somewhat upbeat mood. Its mid section features headbang-able riffs in a very “modern heavy metal” way. “Angel of Sovereignty” concludes part one with a pretty vocal ensemble, a mainstay of Liturgy’s albums since the very first track on Renililation,but missing on H.A.Q.Q. and Origin of the Alimonies. As before, Hunt-Hendrix’s voice is multi-tracked and subtly tweaked, embracing both the natural and robotic qualities of a one woman choir. These sort of stunning tempo breaks are helpfully scattered over 93696, but note that you can’t really skip them as they are often built into the adjacent songs.
The remaining three parts of the album demonstrate it is not front-loaded. “Haelegen II” is a fascinating track: a grim introduction with sliding tempos conjures a messy crescendo within the first two minutes. Next, an acoustic section is, curiously, backed by furious drumming. Disconnected vocals mumble strictly in time, and the beat cuts to a gallop before another heavy section begins. The vocals reprise again, cementing the moment as both catchy and powerful. The music is sustained toward a choir-led crescendo at the seven minute mark, at which point “Haelegen II” pauses momentarily – and then does it again, but slower. It’s a good summary of 93696: tensely indulgent, barely asking for your patience, but sounding catastrophically angelic as it does. The album’s third single “Before I Knew the Truth” follows, much more about its leaping black metal leads than orchestral arrangements, though they are ever-present.
A curious feature of 93696 is that the tracks reference other Liturgy songs in their names, although, despite careful study, my examinations suggest these sequels are in a mostly philosophical sense, rather than a sonic one. You’d have to be an Aesthethica scholar to spot “Red Crown II”’s referenced riff in the original “Red Crown”, as it’s only used as a bridge between the song’s better known moments. “Haelegen” was originally on The Ark Work as a wordless organ intro to the midi-symphony “Reign Array“; now “Haelegen II” is a full scale metal track, lyrics and all. Even if it’s hard to tell what’s been carried over, I always consider artistic throwbacks like this as an upside. Old ideas deserve revisit and reinterpretation, and in the process one, rarely feels cheated out of new ideas – particularly on a record as massive as 93696.
The end of parts two (Hierarchy) and start of three (Emancipation) form the record’s longest calm stretch with three interludes. It’s just as well, as “Ananon” and the title track “93696” follow with twenty minutes of intensity between them. “Ananon” has moments of tasty “heavy metal” riffs, and “93696” is a winding epic with a diluvial finale. Another immensely satisfying combination is part four’s “Angel of Individuation” into “Antigone II”. The former begins as if it’s an interlude, starting quietly with strings, developing into a more “fully” orchestral song. Liturgy don’t pull punches here either: the strings swell toward sadness and calamity and they become fuzzy, unsubtly synthesised, and off-pitch. It conjures a mood fitting for the conclusion of the record. But a moment of genuine, straightforward catharsis is unveiled in the final minute, as the violins resolve the mood toward heartache. Of course, the band has sixteen minutes of orchestral black metal left in them, so the synth glitches back in and “Antigone II” begins. It’s almost as long as the title track, just as complex, and even breaks out a harpsichord for a proggy break in the middle. Naturally, the ultimate finale of the record is powerfully angelic – both in the “fully biblically accurate” sense in “Antigone II”’s triumphant ending, and practically, with “Immortal Life II”’s short and soft warmth.
The recording and producing of 93696 is credited to Steve Albini and apparently was done largely live. Having personally seen Liturgy perform the title track, it’s abundantly clear that the band can shred these pieces live without much of a sweat (although they don’t tour with an orchestra). The mix succeeds at merging these live takes with orchestral parts, making it busy whilst being reasonably clear. There’s somewhat fewer “glitch” moments, like those that populated H.A.Q.Q., which was a bit disappointing as it’s another way that Liturgy has become unapologetically esoteric of late, but they’re still there. The main challenge with the mix is not so much the mix’s fault, but in the volume ranges that the band works in. In the heavy numbers, there are only rare moments where the band aren’t playing as hard as they can, completely enveloping the soundstage, at complexity levels that you simply can’t keep up with until you’ve listened to it ten times. This makes the full 82 minute record a tall order, but this perception faded as I spent more time with the album. Its interludes, barmy as they can be, do help, and it can also be digested piecemeal in its four quadrants.
Make no mistake, 93696 is a challenging record. If you’ve heard Liturgy’s recent output, you’ll find it’s a release within the expectations of their style at new levels of indulgence and grandeur. And it shouldn’t be presented in any other way; it’s an absolute behemoth of avant-garde orchestral black metal.
9.5/10
93696 is out March 24th via Thrill Jockey and can be pre-ordered here.