“a black metal act determined to prove that you don’t need to isolate yourself in a frostbitten Scandinavian cabin to summon the abyss while contemplating the pros and cons of corpse paint.”
On my “African metal journey,” a phrase that still sounds oddly poetic and like I should be wearing a khaki hat (which I am not), I continue moving north. The trip started with Halvar, hailing from Cape Town, and now lands me in Johannesburg. A city that technically wasn’t supposed to exist on the map until someone struck gold in 1886 and humanity, driven by greed, collectively decided, “yes, let’s build a metropolis here.” Today it’s one of the larger cities on the continent, so naturally, it should also produce a fair share of extreme metal. Because nothing says urban development quite like blast beats and tremolo riffage.
That brings me to Mithras Crowned, a black metal act determined to prove that you don’t need to isolate yourself in a frostbitten Scandinavian cabin to summon the abyss while contemplating the pros and cons of corpse paint. Hymns of the Hierophant doesn’t sound like a debut EP in the slightest. As proven here, all you really need is some experience, and these guys have plenty from previous gigs. You can hear it immediately, as the release sounds like a band that already knows exactly how it wants to ruin your day, which it does with unsettling confidence.
The EP is well-produced without sanding off its edges. The guitar sound hits hard, and the riffs wander freely across subgenres. We find tremolo-picked passages which sit comfortably next to rougher, almost death-thrash riffs. The beginning of “Non Serviam” is a good example of that. At times, you feel these cold Scandinavian melodies (Sweden, most likely) drifting in like an uninvited but welcome ghost. The mix is surprisingly coherent, if I consider how many influences are thrown into the pot. Vocally, the frontman alternates between black metal rasps and death metal growls with alarming ease. Imagine having two narrators arguing over the same horror story, with one whispering curses while the other is trying to eat the microphone. It works more often than not, though occasionally the growls feel slightly out of place against the less down-tuned instrumental foundation. It is not a dealbreaker for me, just a mild “wait, what?” moment.
The EP consists of six tracks, two of which are interludes. Whether both are necessary is, at best, debatable. On the other hand, what stands out is that the intensity rarely drops, even when the tempo does. The vocalist moves between the two styles effortlessly. Sometimes it is him driving the musical foundation; sometimes it’s vice versa. The closer, for example, captures this push-and-pull dynamic nicely. My personal highlight, though, is the opener “Ritual Madness,” which is another track moving through styles, influences, and different vocal pitches with ease. When it goes into full blast mode, you can almost imagine yourself stuck in a Swedish classroom with members of Setherial or Avslut glaring at you from across the desk. This may not be a comfortable situation, but it’s musically rewarding.
“Emerald Voyage” leans more on the riffs, giving the guitars space to demonstrate just how versatile they are. It clearly shows that the guitarists could easily moonlight in any band that has “metal” in its label and not embarrass themselves. Meanwhile, “Into the Pit” offers a mid-song shift where black metal vocals collide with thrashing guitars in a way that could easily hold its own on a solid black-thrash release. Though everything still finds itself in the black metal drawer, it is interesting to see how, across the EP, the band stitches together different ideas without making it sound like a messy patchwork. This feels like a walk in the park but is way harder than it looks and often where bands fall flat on their faces.
If there’s something to nitpick (and there always is, because I am German), I’d personally dial back the death metal growls just a touch on a future full-length. That’s partly bias speaking, as I’ve always had a complicated relationship with that style. The musical foundation clearly leans more toward black metal, so occasionally the vocal depth feels slightly out of sync. Not wrong, just… a bit like wearing combat boots with a tuxedo. Bold choice. Still, the willingness to experiment with vocal tones is something I wouldn’t want them to lose completely either. As for the two interludes? I’ll file that under “to be discussed after a few beers,” where all great musical decisions are ultimately judged.
I didn’t expect to find something this interesting on this leg of the journey, but Mithras Crowned proves that beneath Johannesburg’s legendary gold reserves, there’s something much darker worth digging up. Fortunately for me, no shovel is required this time.
