Band:	Nishaiar
Album:	Enat Meret
Style:	Atmospheric black metal, Post-metal
Release date:	December 05, 2024
A review by:	musclassia

01. Semayawi
02. Ritual
03. Yemelek
04. Beheke
05. Idil
06. Enat Midir
07. Netsa
08. Mebet Kubet
09. Mesreya
10. Siretoch
11. Awedal
12. Yene Wedaj Senay
13. Alem
14. Heyan
15. Ke'helem Belay

One of the positive impacts of the digital age has been the globalization of music, and some fascinating metal has emerged from once unheralded countries and regions. However, while the novel perspectives of musicians from such emerging scenes can result in exciting novel sounds, their ambition and experimentation doesn’t always pay off perfectly.

Nishaiar are, to date, the only Ethiopian band in either our database or that of Metal Archives. It was a lucky discovery near the tail end of 2021 when their fifth album, Nahaxar, somehow came up on my radar, as the combination of atmospheric black metal, ritual ambient and local folk music blew me away with both its uniqueness and quality; while it was a fairly uncategorizable release, it did ultimately receive a well-earned nomination and staff pick in the Ambient/Drone/Noise category of the 2021 Awards. I’ve been hungry ever since for more from Nishaiar, but after Enat Meret has finally arrived, the primary feeling I’ve been left with is one of ambivalence.

This new album is 5 songs - and about 5 minutes – longer than its predecessor, and to start with the positives, it continues to display a lot of variety. While Nishaiar were never a straight black metal band, they’ve become increasingly less so over the years, and on Enat Meret, any harsh vocals are blackened textures are confined to just two songs, “Yemelek” and “Heyan”. What’s more, the former of these not only alternates the distorted portions with effective acoustic folky passages, but also throws what sounds like a trumpet into the blackened sections to add even more unexpected melody.

Other songs brings surprises too, none more so than album centrepiece “Mebet Kubet”, which is a respectable attempt at a modern prog-metal song, from the subtle complexity of the rhythms to the understated vocal approach in the verse that reminds me of latter The Contortionist. “Beheke” is also unexpected, starting off with an alt-metallic chuggy style before taking the verse in a bit of a psychedelic/stoner direction; additionally, the typically ethereal clean female singing is more full-blooded on this track, reminding me a tad of Melissa Bonny. The dreamier clean singing is most impactful on the delicate, evocative “Enat Midir” and closer “Ke’helem Belay”. A final unexpected element is how, on top of the folk percussion, there’s also use of some electronic beats on the likes of “Ritual” and “Siretoch”.

This all combined makes for a fairly accomplished and pleasant album, one with some post-rock/post-metal/blackgaze influences merged with ethereal vocals and soundscaping that is broken up by some more droney and/or percussive passages. That all said, there’s something about this album that just lacks the brilliance of Nahaxar. Pretty much every song on that record really hit the mark, whether it was captivating blackened soundscapes, compelling folk music or resonant percussive ambience. In contrast, everything about Enat Meret underdelivers in comparison.

The metallic parts, while fine, are fairly forgettable, aside from that trumpet in “Yemelek”; some of the more interesting distortion on the album comes in “Idil”, as it crafts quite a dreamy, gazey fuzz, but the guitar solo doesn’t really match the vibe, and the song never truly evolves beyond the initial interesting concept. On the folk side, the percussive pieces are most of the shorter tracks on the record, and they occupy an awkward space in between being too long to be an interlude, but too short to develop meaningfully, and the actual content of the likes of “Netsa” and “Mesreya” is a bit unremarkable. The folkier songs aren’t without merit, as “Yene Wedaj Senay” features nice vocal harmonies and distant drones a bit reminiscent of Myrkur or Wardruna (I also get a Myrkur vibe from the delicate clean singing on “Ritual”), while “Alem” again uses drones and sustained wordless vocals effectively to craft a spiritual vibe.

Still, these songs just don’t make half the impact of those on Nahaxar, and some of them are rather forgettable; “Awedal” especially, even when I was listening to the album intently to make notes for the final review, came and went without really offering anything. It’s a shame, as without the context of the band’s past, this would possibly sound like an imperfect but intriguing array of sounds that regularly manages to be enjoyable. Unfortunately, when the album you’re immediately following is both unique and brilliant, being just unique doesn’t inspire quite the same response.