KOVA

Deathchant's debut full-length, KOVA, is a sprawling exercise in atmospheric decay that ultimately forgets its own teeth. While the inclusion of psychedelic rock elements suggests an ambition to transcend standard metal boundaries, the execution feels more like a retreat into indulgence. It is a lukewarm affair that prioritises sprawling vistas over the concise, punishing precision that the heavier end of the spectrum demands.

From the opening notes of "Enemy", it is clear that the band is aiming for a cavernous, immersive soundscape. The production is undeniably large, but it borders on the cavernous to the point of muddying the low-end. A metal record lives or dies by the clarity of its riff, and on KOVA, those riffs often get lost in a haze of reverb. The sonic palette is vast, yet it feels like it is hiding a lack of core melodic conviction.

KOVA suffers from a common malady of the modern underground: prioritizing aesthetic 'vibes' over the raw, structural integrity of a heavy riff.

Drumming provides a stable foundation throughout, but the pacing is frequently sabotaged by structural bloat. "Red Sun" and "Funeral Pyre" showcase the band's ability to build tension, but they take far too long to get to the point. In an era of content saturation, a heavy metal track should strike like a hammer; here, the hammer is wrapped in velvet and takes three minutes to swing. It is less of a musical punch and more of a sustained, rather tiresome, ache.

Where the psychedelic influences are most prevalent, the record starts to lose its identity as a heavy metal entity. "Reverie" and "Worshipper" drift into territories that are pleasant enough in a vacuum but arguably forget the visceral 'heavy' promised by the genre. When a riff is buried under layers of psychedelic wash, the danger of the groove is diluted. It becomes a slow walk through a foggy moor rather than a sprint through a minefield.

The mid-album pivot into "Ruin" attempts to reclaim some of the lost territory, offering a more jagged, aggressive stance. However, the transition is jarring rather than cohesive. The band seems to be treading a fine line between 'atmospheric' and 'undisciplined'. "KOVA/CRAWL" stands out as a moment of genuine intensity, but it feels like a solitary island of competence in an otherwise drifting sea of reverb.

Production-wise, the record suffers from a lack of focus. While the high-end sparkles and the room ambience is palpable, the core of the music—the interplay between bass and guitar—sometimes feels secondary to the overall 'vibe'. It is a common trap for bands leaning into psych-rock: believing that the atmosphere can compensate for a lack of rhythmic urgency. On KOVA, it rarely does.

Finaler "Forgiveness" and "Requiem" settle into a somber, almost funeral-march pace. While these tracks offer a satisfying thematic conclusion, they highlight the album's overarching flaw: it is often more interested in its own mood than in the progression of its music. It is a long listen for a project that doesn't always have anything substantial to say in those thirty-seven minutes.

Ultimately, KOVA is a polished piece of work, but it is not a compelling one. It is a collection of well-produced moments that fail to coalesce into a singular, cohesive statement of power. Deathchant has built a beautiful house, but they left the doors wide open, allowing the wind to blow the spirit right out of the room. It is a mediocre journey to a hollow destination.