martes, 9 de agosto de 2022

OLDE THRONE

 


Origen: Nueva Zelanda, Christchurch

Formados: ?

Estilo: Black atmosférico

Temática: Historia de Escocia e Irlanda y mitología celta

Enlaces: Bandcampdeezerfacebookinstagramspotify y youtube

Miembros:

  • Harrison McKenzie Todo
Discografía:

  • An Torr Demo 2021  
  • Something in the Way Single 2021  
  • An Gorta Mór, Pt. I Single 2022  
  • An Gorta Mór CD 2022
AN GORTA MÓR (2022)
Interesante primer larga duración para esta one man band neozelandesa que pone en escena un black de corte atmosférico, con un estilo frío y oscuro sin enrevesamientos innecesarios. Harrison se las arregla para crear un sonido abrasivo muchas veces, que tiene como punto de partida las sencillez de su propuesta, sencillez que se muestra en los riffs crudos y precisos, en una batería a veces poderosa que se muestra dinámica cuando la ocasión lo precisa, unas voces crudas y abrasivas y ciertos arreglos, digamos que de corte ambient y folk que van salpicando las composiciones a modo de nexo entre las mismas. El resultado es un álbum que abarca muchas facetas y planos pero que logra al mismo tiempo sonar conciso y concreto, con un estilo que lo acerca a bandas consagradas del género, aunque Harrison se sirve por un lado en lograr un sonido que podemos calificar como clásico en cuanto a influencias, en una dicotomía entre un primitivo black metal y la crudeza presente en las composiciones, partiendo todo ello desde la sencillez de un riffs que funciona como hilo conductor a lo largo de cada tema, el cual se ve rodeado tanto de una ambientación y atmósfera heladora, aspectos que se ven acentuados por el trabajo vocal, que se adentra casi que de forma abrasiva en terrenos oscuros, ofreciendo un tono justo y correcto en el apartado de batería que trabaja aspectos más sombríos pero necesarios para dar coexistencia al conjunto, sin olvidarnos por supuesto de los arreglos de guitaras limpias o sonidos folk que logran que el álbum a pesar de tener procedencia neozelandesa, logre sumergirnos en las profundidades de el paganismo y misticismo celta. (7,6)



1. An Gorta Mór (Part I) 04:41
The darkest hour, where fields reap blight The endless hunger, and blackened skies A land of rot, where children wither And mother’s weep, a countless sorrow Hearts grow faint And hope decays The failure of a God The plough drags on the bones of the fallen, The blood seeps to the soil of poison. Scorned wretches of what used to be human, Pale faces in a shroud of torment. A vulgar curse, on blackened shores A time for death, to claim what’s hers Diseased and starved, a brewing corpse Left for dead, on farms of ash The stench of decay Abandoning faith Hunger spreads to the edge of the isle, Disease rampant and the rations vile. Walking corpses their souls are abandoned, By a god that leaves children in famine. The island rots while the people starve, The crows feast on the Holocaust of celts. Ashes fall on the hopeless soil, Removing families from this mortal coil.
2. Knockdoe 03:31
   Knockdoe!
The slaughter field
A bloodied sky
Where Gaels die

Upon the hill
The hill of axes
Armies stand
United clans

Gallowglass
Axe in hand
Charging forth
Through arrow’s rain

Armies clash
Hellish screams
Tearing flesh
Countless death

Now the cairns are stacked
High upon the hill
Now the land has changed
Gone the gaelic age

Now the old ways die
And gods fall the heel
Now the days turn grey
Gone the way of celts
3. Children of Lir 05:52
Upon the lake Under light of moon The swans sing Songs of great sorrow Restless they wait For the curse to end Innocent Condemned to exile Cast out On their own With no place To call home Cursed hand The witch had played 900 years Doomed to wait As the nights Grow more cold Still they roam With hope they shiver With human voice They wail at night Through lonely centuries All friends have died Discarded Left to roam The lonely lands Year after year Wandering With no return To the hall of gods Til the bell is rung And in the end A new god comes To the Celtic lands And the old gods fall Baptised By a holy man They return to form Withered they die
4. Connla’s Fate 08:08
Connla, child of Cuchulain
Born to Aoife, of beauty and steel
Spawned from battle, his cruel fate awaits

From the land of Gods,
Connla made haste.
Down to Ulster,
Where his father awaits.

Cursed with gaesa, three which were laid
When his journey begins, never shall he return
No challenge shall be refused, to no man shall he give his true name

When connla refused
To give the king his name
Many warriors were sent
To force Connla’s hand

Cuchulain was called
To see to this young man
But still he refused
To give his true name

And so the spears were called
And mightily they clashed
But Connla gave way
And fell to his fate

So began
Cuchulain‘s great lament
He cursed Aoife’s name
And went to the waves

The Ulster men were called
To say their farewells
And Connla was laid to rest
Killed by his father’s hand
5. A Dying Land 05:53
There is a fading light Upon the valleys and rivers A whisper of hope A desperate plea of life Beneath a falling sky Upon great mountains of old A soil of rot And a land of blight Cut down in the land we call home Starved and left to die here alone Hunger thrives in the absence of hope Death waits upon these shores - A dying land There is an absence of life And the gravestones grow Farmers reap empty fields And only the crows feast Even kings rot on their thrones And many sleep to never awake Kingdoms fall to the will of dirt Nature brings all to heel - A dying land This is our home We die alone The sun turns black And the fields don’t grow - A dying land   
6. Celtic Sorrow 04:32
  Never ends
The tales of loss
Always still
Death is near

Kingdoms grow
Then fall to dust
Sweeping snow
Beats on stone

And still it holds
The endless sorrow

I lie in wait
For the pain to end
I scour the fields
Where my kin lay dead

I watch the stars
And see them fade
I roam the forest
And speak with ghosts

How celts have suffered
And known no less
In the black of night
Even sirens cry

In the halls of kings
Our heroes rest
Upon shadowed lands
The old ones roam

And still it holds
The promise of death

And all they know
Celtic sorrow
7. An Gorta Mór (Part II) 06:40
Still it lingers, the stench of famine And the sorrow of celts remains A land in ruin, cut down from the blight And the weight of guilt to have lived Ashamed of life, devoid of hope We walk alone on scattered bones Our fallen kin, with stolen souls Dead and nameless they lay an Gorta Mór Robbed of life A great unrest Buried by time an Gorta Mór A tainted land A world turned black In rotting fields an Gorta Mòr an Gorta Mòr  
  39:17





Fully re-recorded demo from 2002. 2019 rerelease.
Embossed cover on front and back, gatefold, printed black inside, full black inner sleeve with label logo.





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