The new year has kicked off with a fresh addition to the widening horizons of post-metal in India. Bimurta, a trio hailing from the state of Assam have released their debut EP, “All skies lead to the sun” a week ago: an ambitious attempt for a group of new kids on the block. A band that has set out to reimagine heavy metal through their highly diverse influences – anything from Alcest and Deafheaven to A.R. Rahman and Zubeen Garg – Bimurta manages to draw your attention to their eclectic mix of raucous guitars combined with the soft melancholy of traditional instruments from the region they call home.
The name “Bimurta” translates to “shapeless” or “formless”; an expression commonly used in Assamese folk music to evoke feelings that are intangible yet emotional. And so, here we have a group who, through their music, wishes to establish a self-contained world that encompasses such an entity. Centered around themes of longing, fate, immortality, death, and despair, their 5 track EP packs quite a punch, albeit with a quiet overtone of self-reflection. Strewn across the many chuggs, thuds, and growls are passages of bereavement sung in their native tongue, a stylistic choice that ties in quite effortlessly with the overall vibe of the album. Add to that the breezy melodies on the flute, gently seeping in and out of every arrangement, creating a contrasting atmosphere. However, at times this doesn’t always capture what it probably intends to, although it is indeed remarkable as far as musical proficiency is concerned. Prior to this album, my only other engagement with Assamese metal music was a stoner/post metal rendition of “Xurat Mogon” – a traditional folk song – by Formidable Hate Machine. It is indeed refreshing to come across a body of work that is unabashed in embracing its own roots, something a lot of artists struggle to authentically replicate.
The instrumentation and arrangements on the album display glimpses of intelligent songcraft. With riffs that will scratch every stoner’s itch, a rhythm section that plods on with conviction, and distraught voices that go from meditative hums to screaming bloody murder, there’s enough within this album to suit the taste of the devotees of the “slower”, more zoned out sub-genres of metal. My only nitpick with this album is that a few of the transitions that lead into sections with traditional instruments don’t land as strongly as one might expect them to. The mixing too, inadvertently misses out on highlighting some of the “sludginess” in a couple of songs. Long-time adherents of post-metal and sludge metal would notice this, though this doesn’t take away anything significant from the listener’s experience. Regardless, you will be bobbing your head along to this one, as the band eggs you on to enter their world of soothsayers (Hargila) and dried rivers, with a sound that is layered and textural. Not to mention, the band has a spoken word piece at the midpoint of the album, one that they say is the “most rooted in reality”, highlighting a more sensitive side.
With that, I can positively say that in a scene that’s had multiple groups starting out with their feet laid out on the more recognizable styles of heavy metal music (thrash, death, prog, etc.), Bimurta are a group that have ventured into the unknown. Perhaps they shall be deemed as worthy contemporaries of the select few bands that have made a name for themselves in Indian post/sludge metal (think Dirge, Midhaven). And although they leave us with a desire to hear more, only time will tell if their future releases shall gut punch the audiences with an even bigger surprise. If not, well, this EP can do just about enough to inspire someone else to do that.
Best song(s): The Immortal, Pale Blue Drought
