Tzevaot – The Hermetic Way Review
Imagine the sheer audacity it takes for a lone musician to dive headfirst into the mystical depths of the occult and declare their creation a groundbreaking revelation—it's enough to make you wonder if confidence alone could rewrite reality. Yet, not every bold experiment in esoteric music lives up to its lofty promises, and that's precisely the frustration at the heart of Tzevaot's latest release, The Hermetic Way. As fans of underground metal, we at the review desk often find ourselves drawn to these enigmatic projects from I, Voidhanger Records, even when they leave us scratching our heads. Tzevaot is the solo venture of an artist mysteriously billed as The Orator, channeling experimental black metal to probe into ancient occult concepts that supposedly reveal the 'true concealed forces shaping our world.' Drawing deeply from the influential magical practices championed by Aleister Crowley—a controversial 20th-century figure known as the 'wickedest man in the world' for his provocative writings on ritual magic and philosophy—the album aims high. From its poetic press release to the timestamped lyrics and dramatic spoken interludes, everything screams importance. But here's where it gets controversial: despite all the buildup, The Hermetic Way ends up delivering more bewilderment than enlightenment, leaving listeners more puzzled than profound.
Diving into The Hermetic Way feels like navigating a labyrinth designed by someone who forgot the map, especially when it comes to unpacking its so-called wisdom. Right from the start, the execution stumbles at nearly every step, creating a sense of disarray that's hard to shake. The foundational sound echoes the chaotic intensity of bands like Esoteric or Trilihum—think raw, guttural vocals that bark aggressively, winding guitar lines that twist unpredictably, and a heavy reliance on echoing effects to build atmosphere. However, the production quality here is so raw and unpolished that it might only pass muster for a casual home recording setup, not a professional release. And the songwriting? It renders even those referenced acts seem almost radio-friendly by comparison. Tzevaot tosses in synthesizers, piano flourishes, and guitar riffs that occasionally stumble into something evocative of Emperor's grand, theatrical black metal flair or Absu's intricate, thrash-infused complexity—but it all feels accidental, like happy accidents in a storm of ideas. The most promising melodic hooks appear once and then vanish, never to return, which only reinforces the impression of scattered creativity rather than deliberate artistry. The percussion, which could easily be programmed rather than played live given its mechanical feel, comes across as lifeless and submerged under layers of thick reverb. This muddy mix sits awkwardly between the piercing vocal assaults and the rest of the instrumentation, amplifying the overall sense of irritated disorientation. Listeners are left grappling with erratic rhythm shifts, abrupt insertions of solo synths or piano segments, and even more of those earnest spoken-word passages. For beginners dipping into extreme metal, this isn't the sophisticated, boundary-pushing chaos where dissonance and odd time signatures evolve fluidly into captivating new structures, as seen in masters like Deathspell Omega. No, this is pure clutter—a cacophony that overwhelms without rewarding.
Like so many ambitious artistic endeavors in the niche world of occult-themed metal, the shortcomings of The Hermetic Way stem directly from the overconfidence of its lone creator. By chasing every fleeting inspiration without bothering to polish, connect, or streamline them, the album careens wildly from dull stretches that numb the mind to moments of sheer awkwardness that make you cringe. Without exception, tracks veer into the most irritating paths imaginable: they build tension only to abandon it abruptly, sacrificing a solid musical idea for clashing choruses (take 'Solve et Coagula' or 'Pyres of Meaning Light the New Aeon’s Way,' which sound like forced proclamations) or pivoting to noisy interludes at upbeat paces that undermine everything that came before ('Zosimos the Alchemist' is a prime offender). Integration is another weak spot; dramatic builds with sparse keyboards or reverent spoken recitations fall flat because they're so clumsily woven in. For instance, a brief sample from renowned occult scholar Lon Milo DuQuette—author of accessible books on ceremonial magic like 'The Chicken Qabalah'—gets lost amid the erratic swaps between organs, riffs, and beats, rendering it nearly inaudible. The Orator's delivery is a relentless, monotone growl delivered at breakneck speed, which quickly wears thin, especially alongside Tzevaot's habit of piling on tempo changes and synth layers like a house of cards. I'd endure endless repetitions of that vocal style over revisiting the nightmare track 'The Hero of Megiddo'—a brief but unsettling piece with perverse crooning and tinkling chords that burrow into your memory, turning the whole album's rare catchiness into a haunting loop you can't escape. And this is the part most people miss: in a genre that thrives on intensity, such unintended earworms can feel more like a curse than a gift.
Perhaps the most heartbreaking aspect is how much potential The Hermetic Way squanders—it could have been a standout if only reined in. Tzevaot occasionally nods toward 'jazz' influences to justify the sporadic piano and cymbal work, which isn't entirely off-base but stretches the term thin. Still, it's noteworthy—and a glimmer of hope—that nearly every worthwhile snippet on the album features piano, making up maybe just five percent of the total playtime ('The Emerald Tablet of Thoth,' 'Air Fire Water Earth,' and 'Metempsychosis' shine here). These short bursts blend gliding key runs and intricate arpeggios in a sleek, engaging manner that's genuinely appealing, evoking the atmospheric black metal of Wreche, the aggressive elegance of Vengeur, or even Emperor's symphonic touches. For newcomers, think of it as those rare moments when the music breathes and flows, offering a taste of what experimental metal can achieve at its best. But in an otherwise draining hour-long journey, these highlights are far too sparse to save the day. By the time the album's strongest closer, 'Metempsychosis,' rolls around with its piano-driven climax, you're probably too fatigued or tuned out to appreciate it, if you've stuck around that long.
The album's title, The Hermetic Way, fits like a glove for more reasons than one. It nods to the hermetic tradition of secretive, alchemical knowledge passed down through isolated study and inner revelation, much like the self-proclaimed sage behind Tzevaot who claims enlightenment from years of secluded reflection. But it also mirrors the solitary path of the esoteric solo metal artist, crafting in isolation without the feedback of a band. Could there be untapped brilliance here that I'm just not attuned to perceive? That's a bold question worth debating—maybe Tzevaot's vision is a misunderstood gem, or perhaps it's yet another instance where raw talent gets derailed by unchecked self-assurance. What do you think: does hubris fuel innovation in underground metal, or does it inevitably lead to flops? Share your takes in the comments—I'm curious if you've encountered similar esoteric releases that divided you.
Rating: Bad
DR: 8 | Format Reviewed: 265 kb/s mp3
Label: I, Voidhanger
Websites: Bandcamp (https://i-voidhangerrecords.bandcamp.com/album/the-hermetic-way) | Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/people/Tzevaot/61552310468794/)
Releases Worldwide: November 14th, 2025
