Album Review: Sepulchral Curse – “Crimson Moon Evocations” (Death Metal)

Written by Kep

Sepulchral Curse are one of those veteran death metal bands that I’m surprised you don’t hear about more often. Featuring two members of now-defunct death/doom titans Solothus and a wealth of other talent from the Turku scene, the band has been around for well over a decade at this point and has a discography of nothing but bangers. I, for one, have tried to do my part in acknowledging their position as one of the best Finndeath bands out there: you’ll find their most recent album Abhorrent Dimensions holding down the number 10 spot on my 2023 AOTY list. 

That record, their sophomore effort, was a fiery and destructive thing, brutally efficient and relentlessly powerful. Crimson Moon Evocations does many of the same things, but it feels darker, more ominous, full of shadow and ruin and evocative gloom. That killer Mark Erskine cover art is perfectly tailored to the sounds within: immense, grandiose, palpably dark, with vivid layers of color. Sepulchral Curse have their album formula down to a science now—around 40 minutes, seven substantial tracks, colossal sound and thick but nuanced production, all just like Abhorrent Dimensions—but within that carefully crafted framework they’ve delved deeper and wider than ever before, and the result is a special, special record.

It’s a listen defined by enormous walls of sound and melodicism both subtle and overt. Measured and almost noble but full of undeniable fury, the tempos are rarely fast or slow, instead favoring powerful mid-tempo death marches that feel grand and grim in equal measure, edges blackened and tempered with shades of doom. There’s something akin to the way that Nyktophobia’s majestic riffs wash over you, only more brutal and filled with gloom instead of triumph. The guitar work from Jaakko Riihimäki and Aleksi Luukka is understated stuff, leading with thick serrated tone into which sinister and somber bits of melody are woven. Overwhelming walls of sound bely slippery lines threaded within, like you can hear in the opening of “Wildfires”, while burning melancholy soliloquys fill you with a longing dread in tracks like “Crimson Passage”. 

Their well-developed approach is more multi-faceted than might first appear, showing impressively depth and maturity. Early album highlight “House of the Black Moon” showcases an ability to evoke rich images and feelings, featuring an emotive solo section that falls into a passage of extraordinarily somber slow melodic riffing. Similarly, moments where the two guitars speak in slow and strangely psychedelic harmonies, like midway through “The Currents of Chaos” (which also features some truly stellar melodic work near its end) are arresting bits of dynamic shift that enhance the whole record with their presence.

The band’s engine is drummer Johannes Rantala, whose commanding performance drives every song. His approach is a monumental, no frills style, and the kit has a big, robust sound. You’ve gotta love how much life he can bring to a blast beat passage with the sturdy way he beats the hell out of the snare, or how much wrath can explode from the bursts of bass drum in tracks like “House of the Black Moon”. Rantala’s assault pairs with Niilas Nissilä’s hefty bass lines to create a truly mammoth foundation for the band’s huge sound. Some of the album’s best moments are where the guitars break into chugs and Rantala and Nissilä lead a militaristic slab of marching headbang bait, like in the middle of “Beneath the Dismal Tides”. 

It’s hard to overstate how effectively Crimson Moon Evocations conjures imagery, particularly of majestic ruin and impending doom. These tracks are the soundtrack to an ancient king sitting on a crumbling throne beneath the stars, staring in defiance at the mystic heavens above, as wrathful devastation streaks down in shades of deep purple and malevolent red. Vocalist Kari Kankaanpää‘s spacious growl bristles with both rage and resignation, and in stretches like the first portion of “The Locust Star”, where sorrowful lines of descending melody fall like dying stars, you feel smoldering wrath against an inescapable end. I’ve taken a particular shine to “Empress of the Dead”, the record’s longest track, for its narrative journey that begins with dual guitar harmonies and grandiose melody, carries on through cruel tremolo riffing in long blackened lines, punchy unison rhythms, and eventually passes through a racing solo section and a bit of towering doom. Every track on the album is substantial, they all sound fantastic thanks to excellent production, and each one perfectly upholds the album’s mood of dark, ominous dread paired with fury. 

THE BOTTOM LINE

To say that Sepulchral Curse is at their best on Crimson Moon Evocations would be an understatement. This is an ascending act offering the best work of their career: a sensational, expertly fashioned album of grandiose death that reveals a little more of its substantial depth with every listen. It’s a more colorful and striking experience than its impressive predecessor, and I recommend it very highly.