Worm: Necropalace
Metal music has always had an inherently theatrical, campy quality, and few subgenres capture this essence quite like symphonic black metal. Imagine transforming your haunted house into a gothic nightmare, complete with candlelit chandeliers, face paint, and a choir of eerie voices. This is the essence of symphonic black metal, a style that emerged in the early '90s as a whimsical counterbalance to the shock and gore of American death metal and the violent extremism of Norwegian black metal. It's the perfect soundtrack for battling Dracula on the spiral staircase of his manor, evoking a sense of tension between its ornate chintziness and opulent grandeur.
This unique aesthetic has proven irresistible to the Florida-based project Worm, known for its malleable style, gloomy atmospherics, and decrepit, swampy death-doom worlds. Initially a solo endeavor by Phantom Slaughter (Nicholas Radelat), Worm underwent a significant transformation in 2022 when Wroth Septentrion (Philippe Tougas) joined the band. Wroth's diverse resume includes boundary-pushing projects like the alien tech-death of Chthe'ilist and the ornate funeral doom of Atramentus. Together with Radelat, they've reimagined Worm as a shrieking symphonic black metal act, showcasing their evolution with the release of 'Necropalace' on Century Media.
Despite having access to more realistic-sounding keyboard orchestras than bands like Cradle of Filth and Emperor, Worm embraces the artificiality of the subgenre. 'Halls of Weeping' introduces a sludgy march with cheeky choirs that glow like a row of pumpkins, while 'The Night Has Fangs' features a dueling bridge of harpsichord and guitar locked into a soaring spiral. The band's new melodic direction is a testament to Tougas' guitar solos, which bring a constant dynamism, layering two and reaching climaxes that refuse to collapse into a flurry of notes. He collaborates with Radelat's keyboard melodies, creating a sense of drama.
However, the indulgent, proggy nature of the music, with songs averaging around 10 minutes, may leave some listeners wanting more. While Worm avoids cycling black metal block chords, their riffs can become repetitive as they chug along. The band incorporates colorful scene-setting details, especially on the title track, which includes an Opeth-inspired acoustic bridge and sabre-clashing sounds reminiscent of 'The Gates of Delirium'. Beyond 'Blackheart', which mixes things up with its Tiamat-like gothic stomp and cheesy adult-contemporary synths, the tracks largely follow the galloping template set by the band's new genre. It's a fun formula, but one that may leave some listeners craving more experimentation.
