Three Times Seven On a Pilgrimage

"Do you like what you see. Come walk with me for a while my child, there's a word I have heard and it's deeply absurd" warns the band on "Karmakosmik." The absurdism the recently deceased band refers to is found right here, within the dark heart of this esoteric swan song. Fully realized, the fascinating vision this unique band has worked toward from day one is not only impossible to describe, but lacking any true definition at all. Norwegian in nature, outer worldly in cognizance - like the Sun Ra of extreme metal — In the Woods drift through epicurean landscapes of sound, fusing doom, noise, ambient, progressive, pagan folk, and icy forest metal into an enchanting shapeless form. Beautiful and morbid, all within one breath, the music on this album speaks to our inner conscious, probing it to expand as the music also unfolds. As mentioned before, the band has sadly gone separate ways, some forming the new band Drawn, others, who knows, as of yet. What they have left as their epitaph, as the King Crimson cover of the same name states, is a confusing collection of songs reaching back as far as 1996, which attempts to paint an impression or expression of what In the Woods conveyed. Clever lyrics and a gorgeous layout full of Mayan/Aztec artwork offers more questions than solutions, but, nevertheless, Three Times... is still a pleasant journey who's balance remains closer to earth than in the clouds. The aforementioned Crimson tune is breathtaking in its execution and scope, as swirling gusts of sounds swim freely, while deep female and Greg Lake-ish male vocals carry the tune into the stratosphere. Their are three other covers on the album: Pink Floyd's "Let There Be More Light," Syd Barrett's "If It's in You," and Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit." The last sounds like a twisted metallic opera, only with every actor taking heaps of hallucinogens. "Mourning the Death of Aase" has no lyrics, only gentle, eerie female wails, as if she were truly in mourning. Moreover, it features arguably the finest, brilliant metal guitar work from the band, with a heartfelt solo recalling the greater work of Anathema's Cavanagh brothers. Barrett's tune is a fitting closer, filled with wholly executed acoustic solitude. It is both the saddest and most beautiful song in the band's huge repertoire. Fortunately, for a brief 20 seconds at the end, we are let into the real world of the band, as the music blends out into the studio. What is heard is not a band bent on sad destruction, but jovial friends offering a final, spirited message to longtime fans — have fun and enjoy the music. Don't mourn our ending; cherish it.