2010 was a bountiful year for progressively-inclined black metal, with releases from the most relevant big names like Enslaved, Ihsahn, Nachtmystium and Twilight as well as intriguing but more esoteric offerings from acts like Todtgelichter, Angst Skvadron, Sorgeldom and a great many others that no doubt slip my mind. Whirling, whilst not really a black metal band, fit neatly with many of the aforementioned, particularly Sorgeldom, with whom they share a drummer. This is quirky and eclectic Scandinavian metal, all about lengthy, ever-shifting tracks preoccupied with dark atmospherics and creepy melodies.

The short introduction sets you off balance, seemingly arbitrarily splicing some murky jangling sound effects with the ballet-training music from Dario Argento’s Suspiria. But after this chaotic and unnerving prelude we stumble into The Watcher, which sets the tone for much of what is to follow. It is a muttering, frowning track which shifts tetchily between unsettled passages of slow, misshapen melodic jangles and agitated clean vocals (a combination heavily reminiscent of what I consider the key influence, Ved Buens Ende), and more orthodox blasting sections. Midway through there is a stylish jazz guitar solo, but this is unceremoniously and abruptly stomped on by a mid-tempo black metal groove evoking Khold. It often feels agitated and unfocused, but remains intriguing.

As such this is a tentative opening statement by a creative band with lots ahead of them. Globe in Sway, for example, is a darkly evocative track, juxtaposing the kind of striding indie-influenced riffing comparable to modern Nachtmystium or Todtgelichter with theatrical and surreal clean vocals, again suggesting the work of Virus and Ved Buens Ende’s Carl-Michael Eide. This then segues into a supremely creepy wash of gliding arpeggios reminiscent of some of the eerier moments on early Opeth albums. But as noted above they also have improvements to make: sometimes their sound is a little too confusing. Night After Night has a breezily off-kilter introduction which trips into actually quite humdrum black metal blasting (before returning to surreal Virus-like clunking yet again). It doesn’t really seem connected, instead giving off an agitated and distracted feel.

Despite its oddness, then, Faceless Phenomena still feels indebted to its influences. Perhaps that isn’t surprising, given those influences are weird ones themselves: as suggested above, I think the clearest precedent is the Virus/Ved Buens Ende axis of avant-metal. Still, it is eminently worth investigation by experimentally minded listeners, particularly those who enjoyed the recent Sorgeldom release. All in all, a band to note.