Scorched Earth
Artist: Harakiri for the Sky
Genre: Post-Black Metal
Record Label: AOP Records
Release Date: 24 January 2025
From the first wistful piano notes of Scorched Earth, it’s clear that Harakiri for the Sky have
something special in store with their sixth album. With music mapped out to grab attention and
demand a visceral reaction, Harakiri for the Sky have now doubled down their signature sound,
finding that sweet spot between gut wrenching, raw emotion, and an unexpectedly uplifting energy.
Strip away the anguished vocal layer, and what unfolds is a hopeful blend of shimmering guitars,
soaring melodies, and dynamic rhythms that feel deeply personal and infinitely expansive, capable
of drawing you in and keeping you there for Scorched Earth’s 73 minute run.
As its name suggests, Scorched Earth embodies both destruction and renewal, a burning away of
the inessential that uncovers something worth clinging to. Harakiri for the Sky construct a sound
that is suffocating but redemptive, pulling you back just when the overwhelm starts to kick in, and
striking a delicate balance between intensity and polished precision. With production that renders
every tremolo and blast beat crystal clear without losing emotional impact, this seasoned act have
truly mastered the art of expanding blackgaze beyond its niche roots. At this stage, Harakiri for
the Sky can’t help but weave unfiltered feelings into sprawling epics that feel just as suited to big
festival stages as they are to introspection.
Whether spinning vast melodies or dialling up the tension, the guitar work across Scorched Earth
commands attention and gives a sense of direction, acting as the album’s heart and soul. And it’s
not just skill — it’s the authenticity behind the playing that stands out, an honesty that seems to
keep everything grounded and relatable, even as the music aims for the transcendent and as the
runtime towers over one’s standard patience limit. Still, there’s no denying Scorched Earth is
emotionally, sonically, even structurally heavy. Some tracks push past the 10 minute mark, and
while that kind of length allows the compositions to breathe and grow, it can also feel agonising,
especially as emotions keep echoing and repeating. But maybe that’s the point. This is an album
clearly forged from existential turmoil, a soundtrack for moments when time feels like it’s folding
in on itself. What’s surprising is how it pulls you in deeper the longer you sit with it. If at first the
length and weight might feel like a bit much, eventually this feeling changes and layers start to
reveal themselves. It’s in these small moments of transformation, these glimmering details tucked
into those unrelenting tracks, that Scorched Earth hooks you and demands an attentive, immersive
experience.
In this engulfing presence, Scorched Earth harbors strength. Time works differently when you’re
lost in it. Some moments feel endless, while others pass in a heartbeat. The pacing, despite the
songs’ density, feels natural in flow, with one track thoughtfully feeding into the next like pieces of
a minutiously crafted whole. Its momentum pushes you to confront things you might otherwise shy
away from, but it also offers a strange kind of comfort. Sure, there’s loneliness here, but there’s
also healing. Even in Scorched Earth’s darkest moments, there’s a flicker of hope, a reminder that
fire, as destructive as it may be, also makes way for something new. Harakiri for the Sky look to
find beauty in the mess of it all, to embrace moments of crisis and come out the other side.
Scorched Earth is implacable and might not click right away but when it does, it stays — a perfect score to a world that is burning. We’re all just standing in its glow, yearning to find a strange kind
of awe in the flames.
Artists: Harakiri for the Sky
