Scarborough, one of Britain’s original seaside resorts, does not fit the mental image of a hub for black metal in the UK. Far from the Fens of East Anglia that birthed, well, Fen, or the Peak District where Winterfylleth snap their album covers, Scarborough has nonetheless played host to an influx of kvlt visitors in recent years. Between the establishment of Fortress Festival and the emergence of Ante-Inferno (whose drummer, Gary Stephenson, is Fortress’s head honcho), the mesh of arcades and chippies that make up ‘Scarbados’ has provided an unlikely backdrop to the creation of the band’s full-length miserablist missive, Death’s Soliloquy.
“I found myself becoming increasingly preoccupied by death and of all the circumstances, thoughts and emotions surrounding death,” details frontwoman K.B., of the album’s concept, wherein Death itself tells the accounts of the various deceased. “I decided to dispense with any attempt at subtext and simply write about death from different perspectives: the last thoughts of a person before suicide, a terrible tragedy that ended the lives of hundreds of people at sea, the death and misery caused by war and atrocities, murder, decomposition… really negative and discouraging topics that were plaguing my thoughts continually.”
Death’s Soliloquy is a noticeably dejected album. It’s a highly melodic piece of black metal, and not incapable of surging moments of vitality, but it often seems to funnel those melodies towards despondency and melancholy in the extreme, creating a miasma of depression and loss.
“At the beginning, I wanted a sound that was much more brutal and primitive, like Bestial Mockery and Blasphemy,” she says of their musical evolution towards a grand bleakness. “What we do nowadays is far more melodic and layered, but I feel it still carries many of the emotions and atmospheres those sorts of bands create: hatred, anger, barbarism and disgust. But those sorts of feelings are imbued with the kinds of textures you may see in depressive and atmospheric black metal bands, textures that wrap themselves around you and take you somewhere else - whether that’s outside of yourself or further into yourself, I guess it depends on the listener.”
K.B.’s vocal performance in particular is one of abject horror, coming from the throes of a torment you don’t need to be told about to detect from the record.
“The key drive was to create a sense of anguish and uncertainty,” she states. “I’d say my intention was that there be no resolution, but that doesn’t mean the catharsis isn’t there. Producing such tormented music probably has had a healing effect on me, even though my only intent was simply to express those feelings, perhaps even wallow uselessly in them. But perhaps there is always a semblance of hope, no matter how bleak things become.”
Between the release of 2022’s Antediluvian Dreamscapes and Death’s Soliloquy, K.B. also came out as a trans woman. While choosing not to place that at the forefront of the album’s narrative and feeling that it manifests more subconsciously, the whirling, disorientating mass of emotions and internal chaos is something she recognises within the album today as chiming with that experience.
“I’m not sure I really made any conscious effort [to write about my experience transitioning], but the theme is there. The maddening dysphoria, these feelings of worthlessness and self-hatred, of being unable to find yourself, or being disgusted with what you find when you look at yourself, and of course, thoughts of suicide and self-harm. It’s indirect and told through the perspectives of imaginary figures, but the consequences of it are laid bare - the depression, anger and absence of hope – all of which are in perfect harmony with the language and expression of black metal.”
Being transgender in black metal is still highly uncertain territory. In 2017, current Sonja bandleader Melissa Moore was unceremoniously kicked out of USBM act Absu, allegedly on account of her gender transition.
“It’s difficult to speak about openly, and just to be clear, this is the first time that I have ever spoken about it openly,” K.B. says on fears of conservative attitudes from some of her peers. “I have no social media presence, so it’s not like I’m constantly popping selfies and snippets of my life up on the digital space for all to see. I like to keep to myself, so the prospect of exposure has been pretty fucking terrifying, especially as you can literally see my transition taking place in the photos that accompany our albums.
You’re always waiting for the abuse and mockery to come your way, wondering whether people in the scene will take you seriously or instead view you as some sort of antithesis of all that black metal represents. Of course, anyone who thinks that of me can go fuck themselves.”
With that attitude, the throughline of transformation in Death’s Soliloquy really takes shape.
“I think it’s worth noting that, for all the changes you go through, you’re not actually altering who you are; you’re just better expressing and externalising the person you have always been,” she says. “You could liken that to our collective transition as a band, from our starting point to today. Sonically we have come a long way from our origin, but the essence of what we are has stayed the same.”
Death's Soliloquy is out now. Ante-Inferno tour the UK with Ultha in April.
