When
Kjetil D. Brandsdal first laid down the primal folk noise collage of his early albums and tapes, he didn't really come across as a lightning rod for heavy underground Norse rock. He was talented, of that there was no doubt, but hearing the murky noodling he began with would never prepare anyone for the brutal heat of
Noxagt. Texture plays a big part both in
Brandsdal's solo work and his role as bassist for
Noxagt, although with the latter much of the knotty sonics are provided by viola player
Nils Erga, whose heavy bow elicits an endless stream of crossed tones and screaming high-end frenzy. The rhythm section of
Brandsdal and drummer
Jan Christian L. Kyvik is meaty enough, driving the songs with a thick undercurrent of menace and allowing
Erga to dig in to the muck with them or soar over it with a plucked solo or a droning, string-scraping melody. The first half of
Iron Point plays like a hard rock suite for heavy metal viola, but it's only during the second half that the unusual three-piece begins to sound like something more than an arty novelty act. Stuck firmly in the middle of the album, "Blast from the Past" picks up the previously seasick, head-nodding, caveman rhythms with a blastbeat that hints at metal but sounds more like labelmates
Lightning Bolt. Later, "Svartevatn" continues the metal references, but this time it's full-on
Venom worshiping black metal that bubbles up from
Noxagt's pot. The only time vocals interrupt the instrumental mayhem is on "Kling No Klokka," a weary and atmospheric traditional Norwegian folk tune with the old-as-dirt singing of
Hagbard Heien. All of these random sparks lead to a glorious finish with a near unrecognizable version of
Pearls Before Swine's "Regions of May." In a world where people constantly bemoan the lack of new ideas and approaches, citing that "it's all been done before,"
Noxagt prove that such sentiments are far from true. There's a new metal being forged and
Iron Point is surely one of its calling cards.