The Minnesota sextet False have gained an impressive amount of attention from a deceptively sparse catalog. They only have two prior releases, an EP from 2012 and a 2013 split with Gilead Media labelmates Barghest, but they've impressed extreme music fans and critics alike, meaning their full-length debut Untitled arrives to uncommon anticipation. That full-length resembles other bands that fall into the category of "USBM"—there is a sense of magnitude to False's music, which is enriched with atmospheric orchestration. But they don't fall into a "more is less" problem, bogging down and overextending their tracks with unmemorable passages. With Untitled, False expand on their sound without diluting it, proving they are worthy of their promise and making good on the tantalizing glimpses of their earlier works.
The secret to the album's power is in large part to their understated approach to melody. Juxtaposing harmony and dissonance is old hat in extreme music, and especially so with the more recent successes of bands like Deafheaven or Alcest, but False presents that same contrast as a kind of musical photo negative, where melody and harmony lead naturally into entropy. Opener "Saturnalia" builds with a slow burning ferocity before exploding into a storm of discordant wails and growls, while both "The Deluge" and closer "Hedgecraft" venture close to what would undoubtedly be an easily accessible melodic hook, if they followed the impulse all the way. As it turns out, that subdued and suggestive approach to a payoff gives the record another one of its most formidable strengths.
For all the winding orchestration of Untitled (remember: there are six members in this band), moments of needless filler are rare-to-nonexistent. Considering the fact that only one of the album's five tracks falls shy of the 10-minute mark, that is a remarkable achievement. Black metal, as a subgenre, is both steeped in musical complexity and devoted to the simplicity of its form. That is, regardless of how far the music itself may spiral outside the self-imposed bounds of black metal, its fulcrum remains the straightforward blast-beat, the tremolo-driven guitars, and the interpretation of its thrash and death metal forbearers. With Untitled, False have not reinvented any forms or introduced some unchartered territory for black metal. There is plenty of wanton ugliness here, both in the scrape of the vocals and the murk of the production. But the songs also find intriguing divergent paths before returning every track to its chaotic source.
One of extreme music's most divisive and yet at once magnetic subgenres, black metal is as musically steeped in complexity as it is in the simplicity of its form. False reckon brilliantly with both halves of this equation. They have simply offered a new perspective on the shadow and light, the ugliness and beauty, that define their genre. For that reason, every outstanding minute of Untitled shines with brilliant darkness.
