It’s impressive how some artists work in multiple bands at once, and more impressive how common this seems to be. Often, the fact that an act is a side-project of or also features a particular musician is the sole reason you check them out, conferring a degree of quality or prestige. Piołun is one of these bands, a duo comprised of Mānbryne and ex-Blaze of Perdition guitarist Łukasz Barański—who here also handles vocals—and relatively unknown drummer Vitor. Like those groups, Piołun is black metal in a style that has grown increasingly associated with the Polish scene in particular—melodic but understated, enriched with a pinch of atmosphere and a slightly gritty vibe. The band’s debut, Rzeki Goryczy, was met with general acclaim, and it should therefore delight fans that Exolvuntur follows closely in its footsteps, albeit aiming to be “more dynamic and melodic.” In fact, this sophomore is exemplary in many ways, but not all of them are complimentary.
Exolvuntur is simple on the surface, sticking to unflowery tremolos and uncomplicated tempos, occasionally employing group1 vocals for roaring emphasis. Particular turns of instrumental phrase echo those of Mānbryne (“Moribunda,” “Hiems”), while others carry a more Sethian tone (“Manifest-kresu,” “Czas”). But Piołun don’t ape anyone so much as draw from a common well of spiritedness. More overtly than on the debut, they hit upon the familiar hazily-layered riffing and minimalistic melodic scales of second-wave-cum-meloblack in general, and structure their compositions uniformly around the recurrence of a singular uplifting high guitar line. This allows them to centre their spirit, which vitriolic vocal delivery and the occasional nods to the epic in their key refrains demonstrate they have an abundance of. Spirit and familiarity only go so far, however.
Piołun know how to write a smart rhythmic hook and a melancholic lead. Repeated stop-starts (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Hiems”), an offbeat to the descent of a tremolo (“Manifest-kresu”), and emphatic push-pulls between vocal delivery and guitar line switching (“Moribunda”) make for a consistently spunky energy. It pairs well with Exolvuntur’s best refrains, which feel mournful in that vaguely medieval sense only the trvest black metal is capable of (“Manifest-kresu,” “Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura”). Exolvuntur is rather more uplifting than harrowing, filled with layered, iterated melodies (“Sierpniowy-brzask”) and anthemic, emphatic roars (“Czas,” “Kolo-zycia”). This applies to forward-launching blazers (“Manifest-kresu,” “Kolo-zycia”), rhythmic fillers (“Czas), and mellow bridgers (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Moribunda”) alike. It’s nothing you haven’t heard before but like a favourite hoodie or comforting tv show you’ve watched so many times, you know every line, there’s something endearing and warming about this album—strange as that would seem given its overt heaviness and darkness.
Yet Exolvuntur’s charms mask a simplicity that approaches shallowness. These shimmering lead riffs that are good in isolation and already familiar in an abstract sense are recycled with barely a semitone of difference across the record (“Sierpniowy-brzask,” “Proba-Sznura,” “Hiems”); the remainder feel like filler. Operating between a handful of notes that could constitute a theoretical “average” for this style of meloblack, their cadence, execution, and frequency is not only predictable but so void of imagination that they make every movement feel trite and their emotionality manufactured. It forms a key part of the problematic repetitiousness that plagues Exolvuntur, where tempos suffer from a similar banality, mechanically moving between a tripping march and nondescript blastbeat of some form, killing the fire of a stinging lead and with nary a fill or rollover to be heard. “Heard” is key here, because the drums somehow sound jarringly clacky at one moment and anaemically muffled everywhere else—like a bongo in a phone booth—which makes potential drum gymnastics very difficult to distinguish. At the heights of speed and intensity, vocals and much of the guitars are swallowed by this mire such that everyone is jostling for position, and passionate snarls feel unintentionally strained rather than punchy.
Piołun did not need to fall back on triteness. Not only are there sweeping refrains (“Proba-Sznura”) and passionate arcs (“Manifest-kresu”) that demonstrate a flair for the dramatic and deep, their very debut Rzeki Goryczy does too. The duo exercised restraint in keeping Exolvuntur below 40 minutes, but that restraint seems to have bled into the songwriting, in a genre and proclaimed take on it that necessitates at least a little excess—in emotion, heaviness, speed, or complexity. Exolvuntur is a slice of nostalgia for some, a comforting wash of approximately vicious black metal, but it shows how great a distance there is in evoking a sound and using it to evoke anything else.
Rating: Disappointing
DR: 6 | Format Reviewed: 320 kbps mp3
Label: Malignant Voices
Websites: Bandcamp | Facebook
Available Worldwide: May 22nd, 2026
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