"Andermans Mijne," or, How Laster Left Black Metal (Review)

Turning one's back on black metal, either temporarily or permanently, is almost as integral to the genre now as corpse paint. Bullet belt dudes in bands like Aura Noir will happily play spindly avant-rock in Ved Buens Ende or Virus one moment then go back to blackened thrash like it never happened. Or you can be an Ulver, one day just deciding to fuck this shit and launch a decades-spanning career off the back of abandoning black metal after two of the most vaunted full-length examples ever to come out of the Norway.

For the Dutch scene, however, easily one of the most idiosyncratic movements of our much beloved style, this is second nature. From Urfaust (peace be upon them) to Turia, Gnaw Their Tongues, or Terzij de Horde, there is an insistence on playing their interpretation of black metal on their own terms, far removed from the implicit rules and regulations placed on what is a surprisingly conservative strain of extreme metal despite its overtly rebellious nature.

Laster ("Slander" in English) formed in 2012 and could be said to follow a familiar trajectory. Wijsgeer & Narreman, their Faustian demo recorded in one day and released that same year, was a fantastic introduction if a little par for the course. Drawing on what had traction in the '10s–an incredibly fertile period for the expansion of black metal, we should add–the record was lo-fi, atmospheric, and Drudkhian, but there was spirit there, a certain spark that suggested they would refuse plow the well-worn furrows of a hundred bands before them.

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The following three albums, all thematically tied together by similar artwork, saw the trio painstakingly shake loose of black metal link by link. Their wonderfully unique sense of melody would occasionally take a darker turn into more atonal adventures, from which they would launch excursions into totally different sonic territory, even if they clung to the blast beats and screeched vocals. Then with 2019's Het Wassen Oog ("The Wax Eye"), clean singing.

At some point along the way, the three adopted a visual aesthetic we can only describe as Death Rite Bird meets Steve Jobs. Papier-mâché masks and a button-up wardrobe–in case you needed reminding that the core of what Laster does is still deeply rooted in the theatrical extremity of black metal. But they also ceased to refer to their music as such, instead opting for "obscure dance music."

If you, like literally everyone else and their dog, wondered what the hell Laster was angling for with that, look no further than their latest effort, Andermans mijne ("Someone Else's Mine") due out October 13th on Prophecy Productions.

Almost everything about this album screams phase change. The bizarre cover art, sporting a torso with a square torn out and a framed image of urban nightmare beside it, is the most immediate sign of departure considering that the previous three had the sense of an artist's wooden mannequins posing over a monotone watercolor background. What does it all mean?

You're unlikely to find clues in spinning Andermans mijne, for better or worse. The truth is that Laster loves an enigma almost as much as it takes joy in mooning the conventions of its musical heartlands. While we're loath to refer to a music video when talking about an album (the medium takes away from the active imagination of the listener and enforces a passive vision upon them), the release for "Kunstlicht" ("Artificial Light"), the first single off Andermans mijne, does weirdo justice to the "obscure dance music" message the band has been espousing.

Snow covers the ground. Check. They're playing their instruments in a forest at night. Big ol' black metal check. Drummer playing with branches. Check. Abbath pops his head around a tree. Absent. Hang on, is that Death Rite Bird… flossing? Tiptoeing barefoot through the snow? A do-si-do?

It's clear that Laster wants its listeners to have fun listening to Andermans mijne. You’re not required to undergo a demonic ritual under a funeral moon to get jiggy with what the band yearns to do. Yes, it's objectively odd and never before heard, but it's also extremely musical.

The self-titled opening track begs beholders to crack out the double clap with its unorthodox employment of rhythm sticks, while "Poëtische Waarheid" ("Poetic Truth") rolls back on the distorted fury in exchange for jazzy chords and breakbeats. Only in the verse, mind you – Laster is still resolutely metal on the outermost fringes of extremity.

"Wachtmuziek" ("Hold Music") digs further into the avant-garde leanings that Laster seemingly longs for, a brief, eerie interlude with all the reverb, pensive atmosphere, and off-kilter time signatures of something from Kayo Dot's stellar Hubardo. Heading straight into the soaring vocal melodies of "Achterstevoren" ("Backwards") is a huge wake-up call, and it's at this point that you realize Laster is no longer interested in excoriating its audience with off-the-shelf black metal vocals.

Hereon, guitarist and singer "Nicky" effortlessly and melodically lays his thick Dutch over the band's unconventional songwriting, and it's a thrill to watch Laster revel in the playfulness of three guys making what to the uninitiated is a probably a load of nonsensical noise, but to the knowers is artful, strange, and, more often than not, beautiful.

Part of the band's enduring mystique lies in its dedication to performing in its mother tongue. Despite Dutch and English's common ancestry, the former does come across like moonspeak to the latter, and an intentionally mangled cadence only adds to Laster's macabre cabaret feel. Lyrically, we have no idea what the fuck is happening; musically, ditto–and yet we can't look away.

Let's not do a play-by-play of each song, yeah? This is "black metal" that veers off into the ether to bring back a breadth of inspirations more honed and tangible than Laster has ever managed before, bolstered by tracks of synth running the gamut from the retrowave school to church organs.

If you like Emperor but also appreciate what Ihsahn has done under his own proggy steam, while sympathetically cringing at his early press interviews, you will also gel with Laster's most accomplished outing to date. Totally fearless experimentation with its heels dug firmly into everything that made this band a delight from day one.

–Richard Currie