Retromorphosis

Even a lawless field like death metal has exceptions that prove the rule. Retromorphosis spawned from a unique leader of the genre, but their unholy union on Psalmus Mortis is a living testament that you can’t bury what was already undead.

Spawn of Possession remains one of modern metal’s most accursed influencers. During the early to mid-2000s, the noctambulant Swedes toured both sides of the Atlantic alongside Cannibal Corpse and Hypocrisy. Having scaled the accursed summit to reach death metal nirvana on what was only their third album, after three decades, the band was put to rest. But like an especially pungent spore, the seeds of SoP have been festering in its hallowed crypt, waiting to come alive and haunt the earth once more.

Such is the sordid backstory of Retromorphosis and their debut Psalmus Mortis. In 2020, amidst the pandemic’s endless lull, one of Spawn of Possession’s founding members was again bitten by death metal’s radioactive songwriting bug. “I wanted to make an album that wasn’t tied to anything we’d done before”, says Jonas Bryssling. While this new batch of malevolent creations still stemmed from his punishingly technical fretwork, the riffs were splitting off into even more twisted headbanging directions. But to bring these relentless mutations to life, first, he needed a familiar spark.

“There was no hesitation”, Bryssling says when asked about resurrecting the creative energies with his former Spawn of Possession bandmates. Pairing back up with rock-solid vocalist Dennis Röndum and elastic bassist Erlend Casperson once again yielded promising results during the early phases of Psalmus Mortis. To further test the equation, they added another familiar but no less fearsome shredder. Before joining them for Incurso, Christian Muenzner lent his flaming left hand to two other stone-cold classics: Necrophagist’s Epitath and Cosmogenesis by Obscura. “I don’t have to tell them much”, Bryssling continues. “They know how it’s done”.

Indeed, time has only fermented this group’s mutant chemistry. After spending the summer of 2023 recording Psalmus Mortis in their underground laboratory, Retromorphosis emerged with the missing link in technical death metal’s evolutionary chain. “Vanished” officially cracks open its beaker with the satisfying crunch of the old school, steamrolling out a rugged red carpet for Röndum’s imposing growl. It was the first song Bryssling wrote during the album’s initial trial period, but the band continued to tinker with the album’s eventual lead single after the other eight tracks were hammered into gruesome shape. Muenzner’s solos scream like a poor unsuspecting soul who’s being dragged into the shadows. All the while, Casperson flogs his bass as if hiding a mischievous grin, its ghoulish bounce bringing the lyrics’ cosmic body horror into frightening focus.

“We had rules in Spawn of Possession”, Bryssling explains, as a matter of fact. “Everything always had to be so intense. Psalmus Mortis is intense, too, but it can also be eerie or even quite simple”.

Simplicity might not be Retromorphosis’ dominant chromosome. Even though it’s fueled by straight-forward, down-picked chugging, the album’s nine-minute monolith “Machine” churns through multiple tempo changes, cranking up the tension with every accelerated blast beat. But the band did opt for a leaner chemical base. Psalmus Mortis was produced by Magnus Sedenberg, who’s been the band’s Swedish engineer du jour dating back to Spawn of Possession’s first two demos. “Reuniting with Magnus felt like the natural thing to do”, says Bryssling, “but for this album, we scraped away some of the studio polish”. With its sludgy distortion and hallucinating speed, “Never to Awake” certainly summons the ’90s untamed spirit. “I prefer my death metal to sound ugly and mean”.

While roughly a decade in the making, Retromorphosis still grip it and rip it on Psalmus Mortis. Heck, chunks of the band’s first album were hung up to dry like butchered livestock after just one crack in the studio, much to their own amusement. “I don’t think there’s a single first take on the SoP albums”, Bryssling laughs. Röndum doesn’t mince words, either. He chews through syllables with all the careful consideration of a meat grinder. And while each tale descends into its own sweaty night terror, they all escalate from bad to worse. Despite its seemingly pedestrian title, “Aunt Christie’s Will” unpacks a maze-like mystery that ends with an especially morbid twist.

Of course, given this crew’s technical chops, Retromorphosis were bound to birth more head-spinning experiments. Psalmus Mortis injects fresh blood into their chilling cosmic horrors by fleshing out their technical arsenal with some unusual instruments of torture. The album opens with doomed power chords, pounding drum fills, then…spooky organ glows, tense strings and a ghostly gothic choir. “That was a new experience”, Bryssling says about adding more synthetic textures to the mix, though his inspiration came from a life-long obsession. “That sense of atmosphere was something old-school bands used to have”. The special effects aren’t just saved for its ominous opening instrumental oeuvre, either. “The Tree” puts a dystopian twist on the age-old tale of human greed with synths that glow like alien guts.

Freakier ambience isn’t the only new life form on Psalmus Mortis. “Everyone knows KC Howard is an insane talent”, Bryssling says. Howard left his brutally precise mark on the scene when he was behind the kit for Decrepit Birth, though Retromorphosis were formally introduced to their new drummer through Röndum, as the two had crossed paths during an episode of the Cali Death Podcast. Howard’s nuclear barrage of double bass kicks feeds the band’s cellular engine like jet fuel, driving high-flying album closer “Exalted Splendour” toward its blinding conclusion.

Ask Bryssling to identify what separates this new baby from their first born and the answer is, in fact, quite simple.”Retromorphosis is more free”. Put the song that bears their name under the microscope and feast your eyes on everything this band are capable of: non-stop blasting, brain-bursting bass fills, solos that would fry a supercomputer and pure unholiness. “I’m the one / chosen son / gifted and reborn”.

With Psalmus Mortis, technical death metal’s chosen ones rise from the grave.

Line-up:

• Jonas Bryssling : Guitars
• Dennis Röndum : Vocals
• Christian Muenzner : Guitars
• Erlend Caspersen : Bass
• KC Howard : Drums