The Channel Islands has long fostered a music scene featuring some of the heaviest sounds going from Guernsey’s Earthcorpse to Jersey’s Masticated and Demise Of Sanity you’re likely never far away from someone with an interest in the darker side of music.

With that though the notion of one man, studio based, extreme metal project has been more rare — in recent years Vorlon has dabbled with that in Guernsey and now from the slightly larger island comes the even more enigmatic and fascinating The Head Of Helier, stepping even further into the blackest of metal.

From the opening bars of Geoffrey’s Leap it’s fairly clear what we are heading into with ferocious drums, buzzing guitars and demonic vocals. As it progresses though, The Head Of Helier reveals a different side adding hints of modern heavy metal to the classic black metal template so things are intense and blasting where needed but with added groove and feeling elsewhere conjuring up some truly great atmospheres across the whole EP.

As it goes on extra effects are added with second track La Tueûthie having passages that give the feeling of being stuck in a cave by the sea in the middle of a raging storm while elsewhere we get soaring guitar solos that almost border on power metal in their style but always with a feel firmly rooted in the musically diabolical.

Lé Rotchi d’Rocque Bèr and Minot’s Light almost merge into one epic piece before Lé Creux au Dgiâbl’ye rounds off the record with a final raging blast.

While it’s musically all very well performed and recorded and strikes a great balance between more extreme and more accessible styles of heavy metal (I realise the differentiation between sub-genres may get lost on some but it is particularly crucial here), there is one other aspect that sets The Head Of Helier apart from any other heavy music I’ve heard from any of the Channel Islands.

If some of the song titles didn’t make it obvious enough it really hits home during La Tueûthie as the lyrics suddenly switch from English to Jersey’s own Norman French language, Jèrriais.

Other bands have dabbled with this before, notably pop-folksters Badlabecques, but to hear it used so confidently and without fanfare in this style is something else entirely and elevates the songs tremendously.

It could be easy for this to feel gimmicky but it doesn’t as the songs tell stories clearly linked to the island so the use of Jèrriais matches this perfectly and, having grown up with grandparents speaking Guernsey’s Norman French language Guernésiais, I can only find this hugely enjoyable (even if I don’t really understand it, but it helps create the mood and atmosphere fantastically).

The Head Of Helier then is a more than solid set of heavy metal, spanning several styles but rooted in black metal, elevated by a master stroke of language that gives the whole thing an almost folkloric feel that’s sets it apart from anything else currently being produced in the islands (or likely anywhere else) and with an appeal that I think could go far beyond that.