Review: Silver Knife – Silver knife
Silver Knife’s self-titled sophomore effort is a slow bleed through monochrome soundscapes—an epic drudgery that mesmerizes but rarely surprises. Drawing on seasoned musicians from the sprawling BeNeLux and French black metal underground, the band constructs a dense atmosphere: elongated riffs, smeared bass, relentless vocals. The result is immersive, but also a bit repetitive.
From the opening slog of “Sliver”, there’s a sense of déjà‑entendu: a familiar riff buried under heavy distortion, only momentarily punctuated by muted blasts. Yet rather than feel composed, it often feels lazily stretched—drums rumble on, guitars murmur, and the vocals howl into the void. The bleak pleasure of this record lies in its immersion, but comfort fades into all-encompassing sameness.
Triumph in Tragedy”—a 13‑minute monolith that flirts with post‑black grandeur and shoegaze passage is the album’s only moment of real shift in dynamics, in texture, in emotional reach.And makes it the highlight of “Silver Knife”. But it arrives too late, like a solitary sunrise after a week of unrelenting night.
Production-wise, the album leans raw and abrasive, but bass, drums, and guitars often meld into a homogenized rubble – its grit becomes a burden, not a feature.
At its core, Silver Knife is an exercise in disciplined repetition with cascading riffs and tortured shrieks forming the bulk of experience. When it works, it’s hypnotic and melancholic. But when it doesn’t, it feels like trudging through smoke: one tone, one tempo, one mood.
The craftsmanship is undeniable: meticulous, moody, committed. But there’s a cost: “Silver Knife” is too consistent for its own good. Where it offers catharsis, it’s buried beneath forty minutes of near-identical pacing. “Triumph in Tragedy” hints at something more transcendent, a glimpse of expansive promise. But elsewhere, the album treads too comfortably within its own aesthetic haze. For fans of oppressive atmospheres and barely shifting terrains, it might resonate.
