jueves, 18 de enero de 2018


Origen: Eslovaquia, Bratislava
Formados: 2014
Estilo: Black
Temática: Brujeria, embriaguez, folclore y orgullo nacional.
Enlaces: Bandcamp y facebook
  • As Guitarra y voces
  • Axel Johansson Batería
  • HV Guitarras
  • Peter Bajo

  • Stridžie dni CD 2015
  • Samhain Celebration MMXVII Split 2017  
  • Nordkarpatenland CD 2017
  • Cesta podzemnými sálami Kovovlada Single 2018
  • Holbaard Dzírobrad / Kartanon herra Split 2018
  • Krupinské ohne CD 2020
  • Trilógia ludového desu Recopilatorio 2020
  • Vertumnus Caesar CD 2023
  • Delirium Split 2023  
  • Dæmon Zlatavých Nocí / Magickal Black Moon Split 2023

Estamos ante un grupo diferente que desde el inicio de este segundo álbum deja las cosas claras, bueno a lo mejor no mucho porque adentrarse en la escucha de un álbum como este "Nordkarpatenland" puede acabar por descolocar a más de uno. Cuando la banda se creo en 2014, prácticamente no perdieron el tiempo en editar su primer trabajo, el cual recibió bastantes buenas criticas, sino me equivoco recuerdo haberlo escuchado pero no guardo un recuerdo especial sobre él. Por eso el echo de afrontar la escucha de este nuevo trabajo tampoco es que me estusiasmara especialmente, sobre todo al informarte un tanto sobre la banda y ver que la incluyen en la tendencia del black con tintes folk, género que acaba sonando la mayoría de las veces saturado de instrumentos folk, creo que todo lo anterior hizo que la primera audición transcurriera sin pena ni gloria, o sea otra banda más del montón. El afrontar esta reseña me hizo darle otra oportunidad y sobre todo darme cuenta a mi mismo de lo equivocado que estaba en un primer momento. La madurez y el paso adelante dado en todas las composiciones con respecto a su anterior obra es mayúsculo, habrá que preguntarles que culpa de ello tiene la inclusión de  Mirsolav y Peter desde el 2016 como miembros de la banda. Si que es cierto que Malokarpatan lleva un componente folk en su música pero este no esta representado por la inclusión de instrumentos folk en su música, los que hay son meros testigos, su aporte folk esta en el ambiente que logran trasmitir con su música de manera que el oyente se transporta a un ambiente que podríamos situar en un bosque lleno de leyendas en una época remota. Lo complicado de explicar es como consiguen esto con una propuesta de metal extremo en toda regla, que no se ciñe a los parámetros del black metal, pero que tiene suficientes elementos del metal extremo y del heavy clásico para sonar diferente, Master´s Hammer tiene que ser una influencia que deben de tener muy presente. Su música esta repleta de guiños a bandas como Bathory, Iron Mainden, Mortuary Drape o Mercyful Fate, y escuchar un álbum como este "Nordkarpatenland" es poder disfrutar de una experiencia única, de la mano de temas que suenan diferentes en cada momento, gusto por los medios tiempos, partes más rápidas, inclusión de elementos ambientales (que si un ciervo, que si unos pájaros, que si unas trompetas, etc...). Todo ello realizado con cuidado, buenos riffs trabajados a la perfección y unas voces la mayoría de las veces limpias y agresivas que logran atrapar al oyente. Sin lugar a dudas un álbum destacado que recomiendo encarecidamente a todo amante del metal extremo. (8,1).

1. Nordkarpatenland 01:20
Pour the funeral wine into glasses in long waves, Drink to Death in their skulls, poets, To stifle in us the rage of tears! [Èmile Nelligan: Banquet macabre]  
2. V okresném rybníku hastrman už po stáročá vyčína 06:14
On the landmark between the village and a dense forest There lies the domain of the vicinal water goblin An old pond overgrown by bulrush Where young lovers come to fondle on summer nights, when moon shuffles the water line But many of them have paid for their boldness When the age-old nix drew them down into his manor in the waters Where two podgy catfishes guard the crystal residence A dangerous monarch he is: demolishing barriers and launching floods, when he rages in anger On such days, one needs to sacrifice to him a black duck or a black pig, get anointed with herbs from Palm Sunday, and then once again he leaves the cups with souls in peace for a while Smoking a pipe on the willow under the moon of Botto*. (*Ján Botto, 19th century Slovak romanticist poet)  
3. Ked starého Bartolína ze šenku na táčkach zvážali 02:45
 Grim was the fate of gaffer Bartolín When his old hag woman kicked the bucket one year even his hens have pegged out since they weren't taken care of He decided to drown his miseries in liquor No longer did he drudge in the vineyard after work But he was hand in glove with the innkeeper and knew all the cups by heart Round the nightfall he got pissed like an animal Forgot hils old Maruša in the fire-water The fellows in the tavern knew by then it is time to bring the wheelbarrow from the barnyard and load Bartolín back home As they passed the burial ground he had a vision of his spouse yelling from beyond the grave; Grubs crawling across her visage, only black holes for eyes: "Just you wait, sottish carrion, within a year you will lie down here with me!" Aghast in dread, the old gaffer has never again dared to get close to liquor.
4. Ked svetlonosi započnú v močariskách nazeleno svícit 05:18
When the days get shorter in the village and blackness spreads its fangs Wintry wind blows away the leaves of autumn and the chimneys emit dense smoke Within the swamplands, little green flames begin to shimmer in the bogs Crawling above beech roots through the cold earth up to the crossroads One can see them among the farmhouses and round the wayside shrine they float With silent moaning they lure the gullible into a treacherous death in mud and thorns Those are will-o'-the-wisps, souls of the unborn wandering the land and heralding the arrival of frost.
5. Nedlho po púlnoci opacha sa doplazila z dzíry 04:37
In Javorníky, where the Kátlina brook flows through and lynxes wander through foggy pine groves A monster serpent has nested once in a settlement spreading chagrin and perdition When the flockmaster began to count his sheep in the morning Each week there was one sheep less So once on a bright June night he lurked hidden behind the pinfold, with a pipe to kill time Not long after midnight the abomination has crawled out of the hole spreading its jaws quickly Just then the flockmaster proceeded to beat briskly with a huge spade Battering and banging in a frenzy until he chopped off the nob of the creature Therefore, to this day the settlement bears the flockmaster's name Hadoše, where the beast was slain in olden days.
6. V hustej hore na stračích nohách striga chalupu svoju ukrýva 05:29
 Amidst the dense woods, black as tar Where toadstools grow in a fairy ring A fence stands, built of human bones Begirding the hut upon magpie legs There the witch with a hideous beak and crooked teets boils the fat of newborns in a cauldron In a red gleam, somber companions observe her: a fat black cat, a toad and a raven Preserving the secret of living and dead water A mirror that gazes within human hearts At evenings she creeps out of the hut in the shape of an owl or a hailstorm When she rubs herself with ointment made of dead children upon a broom and in a mortar she flies up to the stars Misfortunate is the astray wanderer who discovers the witches den His bones will be crushed and he will be thrown into the furnace Only if he blows a horn amain The Firebird from far away lands beyond the sun will arrive to rescue him from trouble.
7. Ked gazdovi upeleší sa v chyži nezdoba zmok 04:37
 When a black hen lays an egg in the henhouse The farmer, if he wishes for a guardian of his household, has to carry the egg in his armpit for nine days Don't bathe, don't sleep, stay away from the church If he keeps silent, the kobold will hatch As long as he is fed in befitting care He will watch over the homestead and call in ducats into the pouch But one has to keep in mind, it is a devilish creature That requests souls for its service And if someone arouses its wrath, it strangles men in their sleep After the nightfall, it storms in through the chimney as a fiery chain Only through a most burdensome task might the farmer get rid of the beast Then it melts into axle grease in anger Or he can wrap the kobold in a red kerchief, put it on a carriage, so the waggoner can throw it down the ditch on his way.
8. V rujnovej samote pocichu dumá lovecký zámek zvlčilého grófa 05:56
In the leeward side of the fir woods, the hunting chateau resides The mists of autumn encircle its dormers and towers The count sits silently in the solitude of the salon Emblem of a castaway lineage on the tapestry Luteolous candlelights reveals the walls with antlers, while October spreads the silvery shroud of morrow over briar bushes and dreary moors With the matutinal cawing, the savage beast returns from the hunt The wolfish form fades away with the moon On some nights, wild animals appease his hunger But it is not advisable to stray near the demesne for a simple peasant or a rosy-cheeked maiden, who wants to pick herbs before daybreak Fangs of the furry beast will cut into them and towards the arch of firs a screech will rise, interrupting the early song of a wood grouse. 
9. Na horárni ve folvarku šafári rohatý jáger 03:38
 A horned jaeger governs the gamekeeper's lodge in the uplands In a green uniform, his horns hidden by the hat With unearthly forces he operates and the godfearing villagers from the downlands shun away from him Strange visitors come to him at nights Fiacres with dandified noblemen who vanish before the dawn Eerie lights flash over the grove during that time and mephistophelean squalls are to be heard Otherwile, harlots frolic at his place and indulge in debauchery with dragoons Orchestrating festivities and card-player carousals where cognac and kontušovka* flows A hotbed of occult operations and blasphemies is the isolated gamekeeper's lodge Keep away from these places, simpleton When infernal intelligences are invocated Nobody will save your soul, dirty slob!
(*Kontušovka: an anise-flavoured liquor popular during the era of Austro-Hungarian Empire, which modern day Slovakia was a part of during the 19th and early 20th century.)
10. Ve starém mlyne čerti po nocách mariáš hrávajú 05:40
  During lucent nights of May When frogs croak their chants in the ponds and moon fumbles the bulrush Outrageous shrieks of a sort are to be heard from the old water mill behind the village And a laughter, that sends chills through the bones Red at once, green at once, the mill glows Belching out fumes and turning around Those are devils playing whist with poor souls at stake A decoy on gullible youths for the promise of infernal aid for ducat purses and hearts of women stealthily they pull out aces from the sleeves Many a fool has swallowed the devilish bait And the furred Belzebub welcomed him with his whip When he tempted providence regrettably, in the game of cards.

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