WHITE NIGHTS are as sonically bewildering as their moniker. Strange and unorthodox but unapologetically so, this mysterious entity create warped, literally sun-damaged dirges of abstract black metal deviated further by undertones of shimmering deathrock. Lysergic and languorous, there's nevertheless a haunting undercurrent of stifled violence across Into the Lap of the Ancient Mother, the band's first public recording. Whether this sort of ambling
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WHITE NIGHTS are as sonically bewildering as their moniker. Strange and unorthodox but unapologetically so, this mysterious entity create warped, literally sun-damaged dirges of abstract black metal deviated further by undertones of shimmering deathrock. Lysergic and languorous, there's nevertheless a haunting undercurrent of stifled violence across Into the Lap of the Ancient Mother, the band's first public recording. Whether this sort of ambling strangeness was created spur of the moment or was simmering in the mind of its creator(s) for years is anyone's guess, but on evidence of these 17 minutes of fried-frequency despair, WHITE NIGHTS are fucking potent and hallucinatory.
