by Jute Gyte

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Metallurgical Fire
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Metallurgical Fire I would call this trilogy of albums Jute Gyte’s most “accessible” black metal, before adoption of the microtonal guitar. They are more refined than the previous albums. That said, they’re still batshit crazy and totally original. There’s no one else quite like Kalmbach. Favorite track: Meaninglessness and Waste.
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JxGx A controlled cacophony of black metal that taps into the sublime vortex of an unutterable beauty. You will be crushed and swirled by the wind of this stunning impermanence. Favorite track: A Wind Sways the Pines.
Atmospheric Black Metal Cat
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Atmospheric Black Metal Cat Just mayhem . Absolutely beautiful , well composed mayhem .. the sound of everything barreling towards the inevitable final end . Favorite track: Hermit Haunter of the Lonely Glen.
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orangutan_marmalade The textures are really dark but kind of beautiful. I feel like this album is heavier on the bass end than some other jute gyte albums and its a plus. The slide guitar gives a spooky edge to a black metal album. Favorite track: The Old Hills' Indifference.
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BranMakMorn Jute Gyte is all the black metal you'll ever need. The catalogue is daunting, but I think this is an excellent entry point.
Thank you Adam. Favorite track: The Old Hills' Indifference.
n. charlene excelsia
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n. charlene excelsia a nonstop adventure through an hour of intricately written walls of sound. Kalmbach's compositional skill shines through the entirety of this album, and it is equally as catchy and hook-y as it is impenetrable and confusing. Favorite track: The Wild Rain.
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Age and pain and decay and death Tower unimpeachable above every moment And what I give and do not give disappear tracelessly Stones dropped into an endless well The wind stirs the trees I hear the builders striking with their hammers and see the ruins and the emptiness within the ruins Vast and meaningless An infinity and eternity of emptiness Meaninglessness and waste Hollow nothing A boundless black veil Swallowing all dimensions And I know And we know The wind stirs the trees Sunlight creeps through the branches A reflection caught in a stream
Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me Remembering again that I shall die And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks For washing me cleaner than I have been Since I was born into this solitude. Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon: But here I pray that none whom once I loved Is dying tonight or lying still awake Solitary, listening to the rain, Either in pain or thus in sympathy Helpless among the living and the dead, Like a cold water among broken reeds, Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff, Like me who have no love which this wild rain Has not dissolved except the love of death, If love it be towards what is perfect and Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.
Partial Wing 09:29
Among the trees at dusk Gray grass, green moss, burnt-orange fern A fallen tree consumed by bramble The remains of a bird devoured by insects We are quieted by trees and stones By the illusion of stasis Against the encroachment of time Eyeless gaze, partial wing, gray talons That passed away So may this
Impermanence 02:50
Hermit haunter of the lonely glen Common wild and heath Lone heath and melancholy pond The desolate face of rude waste landscapes far away from men A feeling I cannot describe of lone seclusion and hermit joy Smoke curls upwards through the naked trees For a moment the lie becomes truth
The old hills' indifference The paths that lay forgotten The skeleton weeds And the never-dry, rough, long grasses The ruins of presumed meaning The impossibility of stepping Rose-crowned Into the darkness The promise of equalizing putrefaction To return to the bosom of mother earth like frightened children yearning to fall asleep on the withered bosom of their decrepit mother and to sleep there forever Death makes things appear as they are Abject impermanence The old hills' indifference
A wind sways the pines, And below Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines Of the roots here and there. The pine-tree drops its dead; They are quiet, as under the sea. Overhead, overhead Rushes life in a race, As the clouds the clouds chase; And we go, And we drop like the fruits of the tree, Even we, Even so.


Every track on this album save the title track features distorted lap steel guitar, the timbre of which I adore. The microtonal possibilities of the instrument were appealing to me but I missed the pitch precision that frets provided. I did not use the lap steel on the later two albums of this trilogy but it was one of the factors that led to my eventual adoption of the 24TET guitar, which I find an agreeable compromise between microtonal freedom and precision. The title track is played on ukulele.

The lyrics and aesthetic of the album were inspired by Romantic music and poetry, especially the poetry of Edward Thomas (calling Thomas a Romantic is really reductive so forgive me), whose “Rain” provides the lyrics for the second track.


released November 14, 2011

Created March - July 2010
All music, lyrics and design by Adam Kalmbach
II based on the work of Edward Thomas
V based on the work of John Clare
VI based on the work of Arnold Bax and Fyodor Dostoyevsky
VII based on the work of George Meredith


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