Dimmu Borgir's 'Grand Serpent Rising': A Return to Form or a Serpent's Slumber?
When you’ve been around as long as Dimmu Borgir, navigating the treacherous waters of extreme metal, you’re bound to face scrutiny. Personally, I think their journey, from the raw, unadulterated fury of their early days to their more polished, symphonic later material, has been a fascinating one to observe. Their latest offering, Grand Serpent Rising, arrives after an eight-year gestation period, and it’s a record that’s already sparking debate. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it seems to grapple with their legacy, attempting to recapture a certain essence while still pushing forward.
The Echoes of the Past
From my perspective, Dimmu Borgir’s early trajectory was always more aligned with the grandiosity of Emperor and the biting darkness of Satyricon, rather than the more primal screams of Mayhem or Darkthrone. As they matured, their embrace of melodic and symphonic elements became more pronounced, a move that, in my opinion, some fans saw as a betrayal, a step towards the mainstream. I remember Enthroned Darkness Triumphant as a pivotal moment; it felt like they had struck a delicate balance, weaving those epic orchestral touches with their inherent aggression. Tunes from that era, like ‘Mourning Palaces,’ became staples, and it’s a sound that has undeniably defined them for decades.
Stripping Away the Excess?
What immediately stands out about Grand Serpent Rising is its apparent shedding of the over-blown excesses that, in my view, marred their previous album, Eonian. While Eonian had its moments, it felt, to me, like a grand spectacle that sometimes lost sight of the song. The shift back to a songwriting core of Shagrath and Silenoz, with Galder’s departure, seems to have allowed for a more focused approach. This new record, in my opinion, brings us back in line with their more potent noughties output, where the bombast and classicism, while present, felt more purposeful, serving the music rather than overwhelming it.
A Measured Symphony of Chaos
Take the opening track, ‘Tridentium.’ It’s an extended, atmospheric piece that, in true Dimmu fashion, manages to be both morose and grand. The orchestral strings and deep narrative voice create a palpable sense of foreboding, and what’s striking is how they maintain a sense of gravitas without feeling gratuitous. Then, with ‘Ascent,’ we’re hit with a classic black metal blast beat and raw vocals. This, to me, is where the band’s enduring spirit shines through. Despite years of refinement, they haven't lost that core of angry energy. The symphonics here are more judicious, allowing space for searing solos and those signature sibilant vocals, perfectly complementing the serpent motif.
The Art of the Introduction
One detail that I find especially interesting is Dimmu Borgir’s playful experimentation with song introductions. They’ve moved beyond simple orchestral flourishes to incorporate a wider palette of sounds. From the classical acoustics that give way to sheer extremity in ‘As Seen in the Unseen,’ to the gothic piano of ‘The Gyptfarer,’ and even what sounds remarkably like a 17th-century lute in ‘Repository of Divine Transformation,’ these intros add a layer of depth and surprise. It’s this kind of creative risk-taking that keeps the album engaging, preventing it from becoming a predictable sonic landscape.
Lingering Shades of the Past and Present
While tracks like ‘The Exonerated’ lean heavily into a second-wave black metal sound with its relentless drumming and strained vocals, others, like ‘Recognizant,’ flirt with a more theatrical, almost Cradle of Filth-esque delivery. What this suggests to me is a band comfortable drawing from various wells of inspiration within the extreme metal spectrum. The inclusion of Norwegian lyrics on ‘Ulvgield & Blodsodel’ and ‘Slik Mynnes en Alklkymist’ is another significant touch. It’s a direct nod to their roots, and these tracks, with their folk vibes, ticking clocks, and singalong choruses, feel particularly potent, blending the epic with the intimate.
A Slow Burn of Darkness
Among the nearly seventy minutes of Grand Serpent Rising, ‘Phantom of the Nemesis’ is a track that truly lingers. It eschews the immediate blast of intensity for a more deliberate, slow-burn approach. Starting with a bleak intro and a demonic voice, it unfolds gradually, resisting the urge to go full-throttle Dimmu. Instead, it opts for a more nuanced application of their familiar tropes, and this restraint, in my opinion, makes it all the more impactful. It’s a testament to their evolving artistry that they can still craft such compelling pieces without relying solely on their established sonic arsenal.
The Verdict: A Resilient Serpent
While the album’s near seventy-minute runtime might feel a tad lengthy to some, and perhaps could benefit from a touch of pruning, the sheer quality of the music and the crystal-clear production largely mitigate this. Ultimately, you know what you’re getting with a Dimmu Borgir record, and Grand Serpent Rising delivers. It’s a testament to their enduring appeal that they can still command attention with such a powerful and well-executed release. What this album really suggests is that Dimmu Borgir, like a grand serpent, is capable of shedding its skin and emerging anew, still commanding respect in the extreme metal landscape. I'm curious to see how this evolution is received by their dedicated fanbase.
