I adore bands that stoically exist in the left field. Crippled Black Phoenix have a fierce reputation and a strident fanbase, but they have no intention of ever leaving the confines of the cult persona. You see they make the music they want to and say the things that they want to and are not trying to fit into any particular style or trend. They have a singular vision and that is to be true to the ethos of their band.

This means that they exist firmly outside of even metal’s mainstream, carving their own singular furrow. There is something liberating about deciding to ignore commercial pressures and instead concentrating solely on making the music that they want to. This sense of freedom and self-determination has paid off in droves as Crippled Black Phoenix have been on a rather spectacular run of form of late. 

2018’s “Great Escape” was the greatest album Pink Floyd never made and 2020’s haunting and evocative “Ellengæst” topped that year’s list. With “Banefyre” they have very much continued the trend, even with a distinct shift in musical form. They sound angrier and more focused than before. Where their previous release was a dark treaty of the soul, this is a much more direct record. They have moved through trauma and loss and reached a point where they want to do something about it.

The beauty of Crippled Black Phoenix has always been the dense instrumentation, and “Banefyre” is no exception. It is a stunningly layered album, full of subtle touches and soaring guitars. Rather than lead to tedium, its length (its 97 minutes long) means that you get to wallow in its ever-changing forms. A wonderful exercise in politically charged modern prog.