Before stepping into the greater sensorial harangue that is the discography of Portuguese ambient/atmospheric raw black metal project CANDELABRUM it’d made sense to posit a couple of quick disqualifiers for the self-aware listener. First, is music a servant to your needs and whims? Do you treat art as a means to experience craft on the creator’s terms? Most would answer a bit of each applies while veering toward the need for instant gratification along a two-pronged road: Pleasure, or the discomfort of the unknown embraced. With each release from the anonymous artist the line between scathing lo-fi ambiance and escapist dome-fed ecstasy is blurred into cross-eyed, head aching delirium. ‘Transmutations‘ suggests alchemic change, some manner of personal or artistic fluxion once more occurring as the project now reaches its tenth year down the road. No less obscurant than before yet altogether pleasant in its droning pulse this fourth full-length from the fellowe robes itself in its layers and carves a place in mind for the sake of its simple yet surreal effect, narrowly escaping its predestined ephemeral state.

Formed in 2014 and rumored to be related to a number of obscure Portuguese black metal acts the earliest works from Candelabrum (see: the ‘The Gathering‘ compilation) were wrathfully lo-fi works of black ambient and scuffed dungeon synth, or, some manner of obsidian cacophonic niche which was largely devoid of any actual black metal or vocals for that matter. That silent and focused atmospheric point of pressure turned out to be a good thing, a preference once the vocals hit on their debut LP (‘Necrotelepathy‘, 2016) for a nigh unlistenable result. Their next two releases would otherwise show some commendable use of wretched sound design to craft striking imbalance between their fixation upon simple yet ominous synth loops and dryly struck, meandering black metal sounds where I’d point to “The Axis of Existence” on ‘Portals‘ (2018) and “Crystalline Telasthesia” from ‘Nocturnal Trance‘ (2022) as pieces which were representative of the knack and persistence of the artist’s vision.

At the time of release I’d written about that third record in brief: “[…] my time with Candelabrum turned out to be entirely different than expected, a stunning atmospheric chill with simple indie rock and shoegaze worthy beats set to allow the listener to ride the wave fixed in place, encircled by each riff in solitude for stretches of ~7-8 minutes. The effect of a focused listen is exactly that, a bout of solemn quietude reflective of one’s own indifference; Whatever dimly lit scene that he sets does ultimately conjure a state of mind, or, a certain focus which is far more experiential than a lot of the more musically viable black metal I’m slathered with so often.” and I suppose my thoughts haven’t changed drastically since then even if there are some notable differences between this album and the last.

What ‘Transmutations‘ does better per my own taste is resign most all black metal instrumentation to the background as a looming shadow which pushes the decayed, oblong hum of their ethereally gloomed keyboard movements as the most forward-set element. This not only blurs and obfuscates the structure-void stretches of most pieces but creates a uniformity, or, tunnel vision wherein each piece is less concerned with caustic excess and more prone to reveal the maudlin indie rock and ethereal wave tinted bits that’re able to shine through. This grave knocking yet kinda upbeat feeling is probably most glaringly stated as we step into opener “A Shroud for the Human Mind”. This doesn’t mean they’ve avoided any semblance of metal here as “Communicating Through Dreams and Nightmares” brings its jittering 33-rpm post-punk stride alongside eerily chill synth which suits the main progression explored in the song’s first four or so minutes. Some of the charming imbalance of the experience surely still comes from the broken sound design of the act but when it comes time to be tuneful and not simply drone into twitching death all is clear enough to ride the wave in either direction.

The challenge for many listeners will more than likely be singular pace and repetition and I don’t necessarily mean the constantly hovering keys and easy count of the riffs but the steady modulation of basic progressions in light variation which carries uncertain motif through the full listen. During my most cursory passes through I couldn’t necessarily tell where one song ended and another began, likewise unable to distinguish between the beginning and the end of the full listening experience. Despite this I’d found the atmosphere of Candelabrum‘s work intoxicating enough that I’d found no good reason to skip a song or step away from the full listen. I’m not sure that the main keyboard/synth loop of “On Haunted Hallways” will stick in mind forever but the gravitational pull of it accompanied by double-bass kicked drums and downstroked riffs is a feeling worth returning to even if there are no guarantees said riff will go anywhere. That said, the randomly generated sensation which creates the maze-like movement herein doesn’t necessarily hold up to repeated listens as much as the moments where the rhythm section implies movement between parts, a fine enough example of this is the directional change around ~4:07 minutes into “A Frame, Imperishable” which allows the weight of the atmosphere to shift.

To “feel” an album like ‘Transmutations‘ rather than analyze it, if those two tasks can be separately achieved, might make more sense but from my perspective the important note to take here is that this is the most approachable, fathomable dip into Candelabrum‘s abyssal escape thus far. This progression beyond their second album should feel relatively natural in terms of both production values shifting focus but also the instrumentation reaching beyond plainest raw black metal motions for effect. Much as this record did not at all seem like my sort of gig I couldn’t deny it had some sort of captivating effect when given time to sink in. A moderately high recommendation.

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