Wolves in the Throne Room vs. Krallice in the Heart of Brooklyn

October 5, 2011

. . .

People like to categorize when they think about music. It’s a natural process. But sometimes that process leads us astray. So it goes for Wolves in the Throne Room and Krallice. I suspect that most people (most people unfamiliar with the rapidly evolving terrain of USBM, at least) think of them as birds of a feather- corpsepaint-less, Satan-less quasi-black metal for people who read Pitchfork and own Godspeed You! Black Emperor merch.

But in reality, they’re very different bands. Their disparate personalities were on display at the Bell House in Brooklyn, where Krallice served as local openers for WITTR and Thou’s tour of the region. The Bell House is a new venue, and its slick lighting and crisp sound befit the equally new-sounding lineup.

The most obvious distinction between Krallice and WITTR is thematic. The former is urban and the latter is rural. This distinction acts as the jumping-off point for larger differences between the two bands. What similarities they do share are the product of convergent evolution from these two very different starting points.

Krallice opened the show with little fanfare—a minute or so of awkward silence, some feedback, and then a 30ish minute set. They look casual and behave casually. Band members talk among themselves between songs. The house lights were even on during their set.

The first thing you notice about Krallice live is how tight they are. Their music is more than simply “urban.” It’s technological, loaded with intricate music-school flourishes. The songs don’t crescendo so much as spiral. It’s rarely obvious what’s coming next. Melodic lines intersect like bars in scaffolding—they make sense to the person who built them, but less so to the observer. It’s art as a science.

If Krallice was casual, Wolves in the Throne Room were full-on ritualistic. WITTR may not be a traditional black metal band, but they certainly share the second wave’s devotion to visual aesthetic. Their stage set-up flies in the face of 21st-century metal’s lean presentation. Smoke machines. Hand-painted stage banners. Oil lamps. Extraneous guitar lighting. A burning bowl of sage, for crying out loud.

For all their hippie trappings and nods to post-rock, WITTR are still a capital-M metal band. Their songs build into triumphant, predictable melodies. For WITTR, that’s not a bad thing. Our ears like to hear big resolutions. They’re natural. When WITTR return to a main theme of a song, they shift tempos the way a fat man shifts his weight—gradually, but inexorably. That makes them capital-H heavy too, despite their lack of a bass player.

If Krallice are building scaffolds, WITTR are growing trees. Their songwriting and performance style is just as naturalistic as their lyrics. When Krallice was performing, they looked as though they might’ve been in their practice space. Like a public-transit commuter with headphones, they use their music to push you away. But there’s nobody to push away in the wilderness- instead, the solitude draws you deeper. Wolves use their music to do the same.

— Doug Moore

. . .

Doug Moore is vocalist for the band Pyrrhon.

. . .

HEAR WOLVES IN THE THRONE ROOM

. . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4ibBdXJ3Jg

WITTR – “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog”

. . .

BUY WITTR – CELESTIAL LINEAGE
WITTR Store (CD)

. . .

HEAR KRALLICE