Music criticism is often caught up in a forward momentum, where an album’s innovation defines its quality. Revivals and the conditions that cause them are equally interesting. With the numerous developments that have taken place in black metal since the end of the 1990s, from the maligned blackgaze to the embraced disso-black, its history can easily get lost.
Over the past few years, there has been a wave of bands making the ubiquitous second-wave style, with no innovation but stronger execution than the bands of that time. Vampirska and Spectral Wound‘s melodic-riffing vampyric black metal are near identical to Mütiilation or Belketre’s French spinoff of Norway’s goth and Berlin School-inspired style. On their debut album, Occulta Tenebris (2021), Blood Countess fit right alongside them.
Musically, Imperatrix Sanguinis does little to differentiate itself from its predecessor; it’s still blasting, tremolo-heavy raw black metal. Its primary distinction is the occasional use of chuggier thrash riffs, which blend with the surroundings without interrupting the atmosphere. Blood Countess’ gimmick is that their lyrics discuss Countess Bathory, a concept as old as black metal itself, going back to Venom, Tormentor, and, of course, Bathory. This time, the lyrics are told from the perspective of Anna Nádasdy, the daughter of the Countess, a fairly negligible distinction.
The members of Blood Countess aren’t new to black metal; they have already shown their boundary-pushing chops in Cave Dweller and Old Corpse Road, so there is clearly a layer to view past their derivativeness. Imperatrix Sanguinis hits the perfect middle ground where production is raw without sacrificing the feeling. The Cuntess (yes, that’s really her stage name) executes screams that are furious, saturated enough to avoid sounding froggy, and loud enough to sound like a banshee, not a witch.
Its blast beats are sparse enough that they pack a punch, but frequent enough to keep the tracks driving and heavy. Its section changes ebb and flow between expected and unpredictable in a way that keeps interest high. Their focus on layering instrumental sections creates epic walls of dissonance in a more refined manner than the genre’s pioneers.
There’s a conscious quality to Blood Countess’ songwriting, acknowledging the style’s dynamic restrictions while using them to misdirect and heighten crescendos. Take “Sadistic Marchioness” as an example: its blasting, tremoloed diminished chords set a tone for abrasion. The verse drops into a thrashier riff to keep it from becoming too floaty, switching the rhythm to a skank beat just before the blast becomes excessive, keeping a double-time kick so as not to break the momentum. Its rhythm, crashing into quarter notes, creates a momentary dynamic that is implied to be the chorus.
The second verse is nearly identical to the first but soon falls to half-time. Its ending refrain leads into the real chorus. Driven by a tremolo riff, it builds by jumping an octave. After a brief tangent back into the prechorus, it returns to the chorus and builds into blasts, introducing a half-time interpretation of the chorus riffs. It mutates into broken chords, followed by a guitar solo, which builds until it reaches the chorus again.
Innovation is only one way to keep music interesting. While other contemporary British black metal greats, like Still, Ethereal Shroud, or Final Dose, continue to push the genre into new territories, Blood Countess demonstrate that there is still life in the second-wave’s discord. Imperatrix Sanguinis is cold, sadistic fun; a reminder of why the genre thrived in the first place.