sub·lime
/səˈblīm/
adjective
1.
of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire great admiration or awe.
2.
a shitty alt-rock band from the Idle Hands soundtrack.
To be sure, the former definition of ‘sublime’ describes all of French avant-garde metal auteurs Vindsval and W.D Feld, the founding members of Blut Aus Nord. However, the pair have opted to release their latest record, appropriately tiled The Sublime, under a different moniker—Yerûśelem. I’m not sure exactly why they opted to operate outside of the Blut Aus Nord title, but at the same time I’m not entirely sure why they make any of the creative decisions that they do; the pairs penchant for outré and head-scratching decisions has been sharpened by years of practice. Intricate folk stylings? Industrial drone? The pair do both with apparent ease. Their motto seems to be, as immortalized on The Sublime, “Sound Over Matter.”
As Yerûśelem, Vindsval and W.D Feld return to the lush electronic soundscapes that they explored on the trilogy of 777 albums Blut Aus Nord released between 2011 and 2012. To these ears, those records were some of the duo’s finest material, so a return to that sound is welcome. To newcomers, I ask: have you ever wondered what Godflesh might sound like with Gregorian chants? The Sublime offers an approximation of that, alongside digressions into gothic music, post-punk and other mutations, all within a very digestible timeframe. The age of the 70-minute statement album is dead, praise Satan. As we lower its bloated husk into the ground, bump some Yerûśelem.
