The self-described purveyors of "party black metal" found themselves at a crossroads in 2018 after the departure of longtime larynx abuse specialist
Erlend Hjelvik
. The installation of a new lead singer can be fraught with danger, but
Kvelertak
's chassis has always been the sublime triple-guitar attack of
Vidar Landa
,
Bjarte Lund Rolland
, and
Maciek Ofsad
, which is set to full-on slay for album number four.
Ivar Nikolaisen
's first stint behind the wheel feels less like a sea change and more like a subtle changing of the guard --
Nikolaisen
has been in the band's orbit for years, even making a vocal appearance on their debut. His ability to replicate
Hjelvik
's death rattle establishes some continuity, but his periodic forays into clean singing, often in English, represent enough of a stylistic departure to make
Splid
feel fresh, even when it's serving up the same ghoulish goulash of pick-slide-happy classic rock and Asgardian black metal as its predecessors. Produced with seismic heft by
Converge
's
Kurt Ballou
, who helmed the band's first two outings,
(which translates to "Discord") commences with a slow-building storm of distortion that gradually reveals a blazing, punk-metal core festooned with
Iron Maiden
-worthy guitarmonies. Album opener "Rogaland" is well placed, offering safe harbor for those concerned that
's absence might steer the good ship
into unfamiliar waters -- the singles "Bratebrann" and "Fanden ta dette Hull!" are pretty much instant Valhalla-worthy classics. "Crack of Doom" takes a slight detour into stoner metal, with
joined on vocals by
Mastodon
Troy Sanders
, and the taut and snappy "Tevling" flirts with
Pixies
-ish alt-rock, but for the most part,
picks right up where 2016's
Nattesferd
left off and never looks back. ~ James Christopher Monger