Black Tourmaline
Wicked Messenger

Catalog#: Plague 007
Format: CDr (Deleted), Mp3/Flac/Ogg Vorbis/Etc.
Status: Available from bandcamp

Limited deluxe edition featuring a smartly silkscreened disc housed in a black c-shell case + sticker + a bag of black Ceylon tea (each with a hand-numbered black label), all packed in a square black, wax-sealed, envelope.

Black Tourmaline was recorded during the Easter week of 2007 and is the result of sound researches and experiments with the electric guitar. Only few non-guitar sounds (electronics & voices) were added. It's a oneness... monolithic, darker and unfriendlier than its predecessor "The River Disappeared Sidewards". Despite the black nature of this recording - sticky and nasty like tar - it is still very contemplative and truly mesmerising. A 2008 ambient Grand Cru!

Tracklisting
1. I (10:22)
2. II (7:48)
3. III (10:32)
4. IV (5:13)
5. V (16:23)

Reviews
"I have been lucky enough to have reviewed several of Martin Kränzel's Wicked Messenger output in the last year or so and one of the most marked aspects of his music is that it is constantly evolving and changing - 'Black Tourmaline' is no exception. Although still very much mining the vein of dark ambient as his previous efforts have done, here he has reached and brought to the surface a much deeper and denser level of ambience, not to mention a much heavier and darker one, as befits the album's title - this is indeed immensely black in flavour and scope, exhibiting a doom-laden gravitas perhaps not seen in his work before.

Consisting of five mid to long tracks (ranging between 5:14 and 16:24 in duration), this is less about the usual electronic sound-arsenal and more about experimenting with the capabilities of the guitar; for all intents and purposes this is a showcase of what that instrument is capable of when taken beyond the common perception of how it should sound and how it should be used. Indeed, Kränzel pushes it to the point where, unless you're told, you fail to realise that the vast majority of sounds are created from just those six strings; the only other sound sources are a smattering of electronics and voices. The net result, unlike many another supposedly 'doomy' release, is that this truly is a dark and forbidding experience, dragging you down into a claggy, swampy and suffocating sludge of pessimistic claustrophobia.

It could be argued that there is little variation across the whole of this album, which is true to a degree, containing as all the tracks do thick sweeping washes of hellish and oppressively heavy treated guitar and choir-like voices, supplemented by reverberations and the occasional high-end (but subtle) feedback; nevertheless I feel compelled to say in its defence that doom is best characterised by a relentlessly claustrophobic, airtight, lightless and restrictive atmosphere, and here is where this one comes through admirably. If what you look for in any dark ambient offering is a quality of weightiness and an intense gravitational pull threatening to extinguish any remaining hope and light, then this is a prime example of those qualities being encapsulated in sound; hell isn't necessarily the fire-lined pit of torture as espoused by the popular imagination - it can also be an eternity of loneliness bathed in complete darkness, where awareness still exists in a dimension of utter emptiness (both physical and spiritual) and hopelessness. 'Black Tourmaline' gives us a hint, albeit a microscopically small one, of what that dimension feels like and of the Hadean terrors it has in store for those souls consigned to it.

This is a deeply unsettling, unremittingly cold and indeed 'black' set of pieces, marking the deepest dive into that very heart of darkness that lives within both humanity and the outer universe that WM have engaged in so far. I could even say this feels like the predicted end of everything, the implosion of every star, solar system, galaxy and nebula into a single point, where either complete blackness takes over or another universe is born in its stead. Judging though from the tenor of Kränzel's vision informing this particular CD, he doesn't hold out much hope of the latter option; so if you like freezing cold black then this is definitely it...." (Simon Marshall-Jones, Heathen Harvest, UK)

***

"You'd expect something lush, organic and warm from a recording that comes packaged in a black, sealed envelope together with a bag of black tea (and a sticker with a catchy "slogan"). Something... well, something to go well along with that tea. But what Wicked Messenger offers us is instead the most inorganic, cold, distant and metallic sounding material to date. These are the sounds of some arcane forge where magic and metal are welded together and great machinations of some lost doomsday prophecies are smithied; the boiling pits of molten metal, the clang of hammer against metal, the sound of metallic constructs slaving away in the gloom and darkness, the monks of this estranged monastery-slash-factory chanting their ancient prophecies. Combining both the mechanized feel of modern industry and the mystery of ancient magic, Black Tourmaline feels almost like the soundtrack to a Steampunk-movie. I can't help but make associations to the final level of the computer game Thief II, where you sneak around the medieval Soulforge, teeming with robotic denizens and full of arcane magical-mechanical devices.

Again, the first impression is that Black Tourmaline would be the most minimalistic offering by Wicked Messenger to date, but as always, further listening reveals that there is a lot going on under the surface that you don't necessarily notice during the first listenings. "Minimalistic" is definitely the wrong word; I feel that "understated" is much more appropriate. Wicked Messenger weaves deeply mysterious and half-intangible atmospheres subtly and carefully with very sparse tools; sometimes all Martin needs is one carefully placed metallic hit, or a single sweeping sound emerging from the background to the front, and from the back of your mind an image of something old and at the same time modern will emerge. Masterful.

Black Tourmaline is yet another fine notch in the belt; the promise showing in the first demo has well and truly become reality with this and The River Disappeared Sidewards. Revealing a new, hitherto unknown side to Wicked Messenger, Black Tourmaline is in its coldness a perfect companion to the warmer The River Disappeared Sidewards.

Being released in rather limited quantities, I suggest you get this now before they sell out." (J Dread, Plague Haus, Finland)

***

"Using mostly guitar, Martin Kränzel explores foreboding vistas on hislatest album as Wicked Messenger. He makes the instrument almostunrecognizable in his depiction of gathering darkness and thunderousportent. Heavy and chilling, these five tracks do an excellent job ofsustaining a mythology of dread.

"I" begins the album with a vast, cavernous gasp and quiet demoniccommunication hinting at the abyss, surrounded by the moans of dustyfallen angels. The music burrows into a black hole, slowing time andtwisting it mercilessly, gathering momentum in its destruction. Therocky movement of thunderclouds forms much of "II," aided by a slowincantation and the screeching wails of thwarted steel. "III" startswith electric rustling from a high voltage field that's soon overtakenby a carnivorous maw and the yawns of a blind megalithic god awakeningfrom slumbering darkness. Gaseous forms coalesce into sentience in "V"as a patient blacksmith toils in the background. The only track thatseems a little out of place if only because its brevity and subduedatmosphere is "IV," which seems to heighten expectations for anarrival or the dawning of something that never happens. Yet this trackisn't bad, merely different, and doesn't subtract from the album'senjoyment in the slightest.

Music with such malevolent droning ambience is often easy formusicians to create but fairly difficult to do well, which makes BlackTourmaline one of the rare exceptional works in this crowded field."(Matthew Amundsen, Brainwashed, US)

About Wicked Messenger