album review: 'the weight of the mask' by svalbard

Here’s a fun question: how much does it matter when a band leaves an indie label and goes to a major?

Well that’s the funny thing: it’s a more complicated answer than some make it out to be. With major labels can come budgets and bigger collaborations and name producers that an indie label might not be able to pull in… but for certain acts that have an idiosyncratic sound or style that could only really germinate outside of the major label system because of the risks being taken or the subject matter, it’s a more loaded gamble, especially if you’re making more abrasive or challenging music. Plenty of genres have decades of acts that got critical acclaim on the outside, signed to a major, and watched their sound get watered down, compromised, or outright ruined… but there are also more than a few that discover tighter song construction and better hooks to deliver a more technically robust project and are handsomely rewarded. The point is that it’s not black-and-white, and I would argue that it has more to do with the acts themselves and the individual labels doing the signing, and sometimes it can get even more granular down to specific executives at said labels or specific popular eras or sounds.

What all of this meant is that I had a lot of trepidation when it came to screamo and black metal band Svalbard leaving Church Road and signing to Nuclear Blast, mostly because extreme metal acts tend to have some of the worst luck in migrating to a major who necessarily might have to sand down some of their rough edges for even an attempt at crossover. Now with Nuclear Blast I was willing to give more grace - European major labels tend to handle metal better overall, they have a reputation of signing black metal acts and them not turning to shit, and Svalbard were able to retain their producer Lewis Johns who brought such a powerfully gorgeous sound that nailed the genre blend so impressively. I was concerned about some buzz for this album - apparently the atmospherics were going to be scaled back a bit for a more immediate sound, and the lyrics would be less explicitly political, especially given the brutally honest exploration of how women are treated in and around metal on that last album was so powerful, but given the fallout with Holy Roar that had Svalbard change labels mid-promo run in 2020, I get the desire to take on different material. And the critical acclaim is even more pronounced this time around, so what the hell, how did this go?

Honestly… Svalbard did it again! Without a doubt, this is one of the best metal/metal-adjacent albums you’ll hear in 2023, one of the rare cases where the major label shift results in subtle changes to their sound and approach that lands a project that feels more accessible to a wider demo, but doesn’t take away from this group’s thunderous strengths; a streamlining of their approach that doesn’t even lead to a simplification, as much of the depth remains intact. And while there’s a part of me that is just tempted to say that ‘it’s guitar ear candy, these melodies are fucking extraordinary, do I need to say more’, but I want to explore the depth because Svalbard’s sense of emotional intelligence is so robust that the album can be beautiful devastation, where the rawness is now amplified by more personal framing and it can cut deep.

And I think it’s important to start with how if you’re familiar with Svalbard, the sound has changed, but subtly, mostly in terms of mix depth; When I Die, Will I Get Better carried over more cavernous black metal reverb that this album uses more carefully to accentuate slower moments with cleaner vocals that allow Serena Cherry’s softer singing to shine through like on the watery depths accented by the snare and even horns on ‘How To Swim Down’, or the post-rock pealing and stellar crescendo of ‘Pillar In The Sand’. It’s still texturally close to blackgaze but it’s no longer reliant on the reverb, and that means Svalbard’s greatest strength - the huge melodic hooks - can feel almost oppressively bright in the leadwork. We’ll get into themes in a bit, but the sharpness of those cleaner melodies actually plays a role in amplifying how toxic positivity or even just compassion you can’t reciprocate in the way you want can burn even hotter, where a comparison that leaped to mind was Jetty Bones in how the melodic sheen was a mask in its own right that only barely obscures the genuine pain beneath it. The opener ‘Faking It’ is a prime example with how glossy and bright the leadwork can be that almost sounds like it’s accented by synths - ‘Lights Out’ has this too as well as a gorgeous post-rock passage halfway through - where the forced smile is pressed under an even hotter spotlight, where the shredded screamed vocals feel like the natural reaction! And yet by ‘Defiance’ that same brightness somehow becomes an anthemic strength courtesy of that juxtaposition with softer clean vocals, dynamic change-ups, and a more yearning tone, later echoed just as effectively with the killer percussion-driven crescendos of ‘Be My Tomb’. Or take ‘November’, which has such an impressively haunted, bassy vibe but then ramps into a killer, key-changing black metal passage that’s just stellar! Now that doesn’t mean I don’t have some nitpicks - the basslines and percussion, especially the kickdrums could use a bit more of that reverb and texture, and while the blast beats can still erupt through or you get cuts like ‘Lights Out’ with probably the strongest rhythm section across all instruments - although the more snarled groove of ‘To Wilt Beneath The Weight’ is a close second - there are points where some of the kickdrum can feel a bit thin. And a focus on more immediate mixes and melody does mean that a certain amount of textured expanse has been given up outside of the slower passages, and if the melodies don’t grab you, you might want a deeper change-up.

But again, I wasn’t just worried about the instrumental formula, and even that was tempered by Lewis Johns staying on as producer. No, we need to get to the content, where this album’s exploration of depression shows a tangible shift - the language feels more direct, the poetry more blunt, but still raw and containing credible nuance, specifically focusing on the element of trying to present normality when you’re falling apart inside. And Svalbard are really damn good at capturing multiple shades of this - ‘Faking It’ is how even they are stunned by how easily they can deflect so nobody can see the reality, where a song like ‘Defiance’ shows just how much of a struggle it can be on some days… and then with a fade into ‘November’, how that feeling of creeping numbness can take back over, where love and pain just feel like non-factors, made all the worse by the acknowledgement that some are extending so much positive emotion, even love in their direction and they just can't reciprocate, which brings new waves of guilt and heartbreak. The mask that is the running symbol of the album is both easy to put on but crushing underfoot, a nested self-destructive contradiction where they mute their own emotions and it causes people not to take their pain as seriously, made all the rougher on moments where they can help others but can’t help themselves, or even show enough for it to be noticed. And ‘Be My Tomb’ is a phenomenal cut because it expands broader to confront some harsh realities - namely that our current society rewards the numb and emotionless, if only just to fill hours of time, and yet that’s the last thing they need in order to heal; they recognize the defeated wish as the worst possible bargain to take, and yet when you’re faced with so much pain, it’s hard to not take it. I will say that ‘Eternal Spirits’ which seems to speak from an exterior perspective does somewhat make sense in the album’s sequencing but doesn’t quite connect as strongly because it places the framing outside the protagonist, even if the positive message only amplifies the tragedy ramping to ‘Defiance’. But the closer is what really nails the arc: it’s doing the work, experiencing all the pain and emotional honesty, so much work for what to them might feel like so little reward instead of taking the easy way out, especially when embracing one’s truth places them at the mercy of those who are insincere… but they don’t give up, they grit the broken teeth and keep going.

In short… this is a gorgeous and heartbreaking album, where you might think it’s going for something more immediate and accessible until you dig into the writing and thematic arc and it rips your guts out. The blend of genres only feels more refined, the emotional intelligence and nuance is robust, and the melodies and guitarwork are some of the most striking you’ll hear all year. It is the best possible example of a major not fucking with the formula, but tweaking it to glorious response, and it’s one of the best albums of 2023. Like its forebear, it’s a difficult listen… but man, if it doesn’t break your heart it’ll make it sing. Svalbard are ready for that bigger stage, you should go hear them.