Isolation - Isolation (Eisenwald, 2008)

Isolation's second demo A Prayer for the World to End was featured about a year ago on this very publication. From what I recall it was a fine entry into the first division of the black/doom league. Now, I know what you're thinking, but though the case might be that the usual musical set-up on offer by such acts is the droning minor key buzz, miserably lead by a frail, anemic excuse for percussion and topped with the testicle-shrinking, burning-witch shrieks of an asylum escapee, Isolation beg to differ with oppressive auras and convincing audible sickness. Black/doom it might be but a trite, by-the-numbers affair it is certainly not.

Well, given that this release is a compilation of two previous demos (including the aforementioned) there's really nothing new on display - not even production-wise since they audibly still wallow in trebly weak dissonance. Their aesthetic bedrock is essentially the familiar Bethlehem-esque musical schemes of emotively charged, mid-to-fast tempo passages backed with a shrill counterpoint of an almost psychotic vocal delivery. Sometimes guitar passages/themes can also stray into straight-up black metal territory with a transition both natural and appropriate as a tension-release component. The early Katatonia-tinged inclinations in their guitar-based melodicism leave a scent of that bitter/sweet aura of "Jhva Elohim Meth" that synergistically bolsters the despair-laden compositions. Actually, instead of mechanically slapping the black/doom label on their music I'd say that their discography to date chronicles the embryonic stages of a riveting amalgamation resulting from Moonblood's riff-driven melancholy colliding head-on with the dragging and agonizingly unfolding progressions of Katatonia's demo-graphy. To that effect add the comparatively versatile -though loose- percussive dynamics of straight snare-lead pounding, proper tom-tom usage and appropriately accentuating fills and what you have are the promising foundations for what is yet to come - of note is the interesting rhythmical build-up on "The Nameless and Unnameable" that shifts through plodding doom and rippling tom/snare triplet grooves before bursting grandiosely into an up-tempo spurt of sheer black metal (this being a truncated version of the song originally present in A Prayer for the World to End). Although firmly cemented within the self-constrained framework of its genre, Isolation is a comprehensive introduction to the band in case you missed them last time 'round and more than an apt investment for an unpleasant, lights-out, earphones-only musical experience.

(originally written for Tartarean Desire - 29/3/2008)

Herem - Pulsa diNura (Rusty Crowbar Records, 2008)

Apparently, doom metal and its variants have become the only place where that cynical, un-pretentious attitude - the very core of metal's inherent rebelliousness - can find refuge in these hard times. And Herem gladly attest to this observation with throbbing bass lines and rumbling riffage which flow like a stream of raw sewage along a conspicuous stratum of Cathedral-esque murkiness. Don’t expect that chaotic, all-over-the-place aesthetic of filthy and noisy doom bands however - their song structures remain characteristically cohesive and neat throughout. Musically they base their compositions around an elementary backbone of Kyuss-inspired rhythms and a conflation of stoner and doom/death melodicism. Indeed, their touches of melodic finishes and verses may be prominent but they possess that extra dose of ballsy attitude to allow their music to dispense with the excess baggage of maudlin sentimentalities seamlessly and effectively. Oh, and when's the last time you heard a female vocalist deliver a convincing torrent of monstrous gurgling? Well, you might be in for a surprise. Although in terms of vocal inflection she doesn't score quite as highly on the Runhild Gammelsaete scale, her vocals have a commanding presence both rhythmically and tonally. If you’re into structured, authentic doom then this little platter of uncompromising yet tuneful spite might very well be up your alley.

(originally written for Tartarean Desire - early 2008)

Mourning Dawn - Mourning Dawn (Total Rust Music, 2007)

I was introduced to Mourning Dawn's self-titled debut with a mixed sense of doubt and apprehension, but all my concerns were soon to be allayed by the album's unmistakable quality. The oppressively tense feelings that this album exudes really do stir the most sensitive souls among us, but this is only one part of the equation. Even if a song is dragging at pain-staking paces or culminating in aptly placed black metal climaxes, it is evident that the people behind this work have actually put effort into making a convincing and repressive piece of delightfully morose black/doom metal. To further add to the necessary poetics, Mourning Dawn is the audial equivalent of a dilapidated milieu of utter desolation (sorry, I just can't help it), and this is the truth. Aided by the tattered production, the atmosphere here becomes gripping and penetrating; no wonder at first I had a feeling of cathartic release when the album's near one hour long duration hit its finish mark.
 
If you're into bands like Bethlehem, Deinonychus or one of those people who think that Katatonia just sold out after Dance of December Souls, be sure to check this one out. 

Contact: http://www.mourningdawn.com

(originally written for Chronicles of Chaos - 5/4/2007)

Roanoke - Stormbringer (Doomphonic Recordings, 2005)

 

Whoa! What the hell was that?! I must admit, doom/slugde, drone and otherwise extreme doom acts do require their fair share of listens before you become habituated to their elephantine sound, but no matter how many times you give this CD a spin it always comes off as though you’re having your head in a vice during its time-span. 

Borrowing aesthetically from Electric Wizard and Japan's very own Corrupted this is an album set to test the limits of our listening perseverance. And whilst you hopelessly try to expand your attention span beyond the five-minute barrier amidst this barrage of comatose guitar riffage strewn on a rhythmical dearth of temporal changes, the senses become numbed to the repeating, piercing song structures which so tortuously unweave through thick stratums of dampened, down-tuned chord successions. 

Slow, monotonous and unwearyingly heavy, this is indeed one uncompromising release. Be it a moment of alcohol-induced daze imbued with a soporific sensation of numbness stretched unto 30 minutes of disquieting dirge or the sonic equivalent of slow moving molten lava, this is definitely an album to be taken in small doses. Leave a man of a relatively healthy demeanor listening to ‘Stormbringer’ for 24 hours and you'll come back to find him in a trance-like stupor, visibly resembling a drooling idiot in a vegetative state.

(originally written for Tartarean Desire -  December 2005?)

Malasangre - Inversus (Nothingness Record, 2005)

Malasangre are from Italy and they play a particularly grimy sludge / doom of sorts. The band's musical direction shares the same bleak well from which bands such as Electric Wizard, Methadrone and Drecksau spring from.

All musical elements seem to close in on the listener, leaving him no room for breath amidst this thick and imposing monolith of an album. The tempo is just a few notches above funereal, but still zealously flirting with funeral doom's austere tortoise paces. The album 'paints' a wide canopy of grey-scaled backgrounds upon which their mammoth compositions are laden, which invariably bear the raw and murky trademark sound of the genre's purveyors.

The first track, "Sons", could well be the musical essence of tragedy, as emanated by recent disasters such as 9/11; a news snippet of which is amended to the final moments of the track. From there on, "Werewolf / Echoes of the Past" takes over, strewn with a sentiment of a smoldering incessant enmity, creeping beneath this angst-ridden musicianship which perpetually urges to be heard; the allure of it (or the Tragedy perhaps) is that it never is. It's like the far-distant woes of a doomed race, crying in vain their wretched threnodies. A similar approach is followed by the third and final track, "Sharp Contemplation", which in addition is intermitted by more clean parts of sheer, dank ambience.

Evidently the album is not for the faint of heart; the dissonant and serpentine riffing distorted in consonance with the gargantuan bass sound allow no room for hackneyed sentimentalities exhibited by the more traditional doom outfits. It is essentially a very uncompromising album, standing aloof from other musical genres, bearing its own, personal musical imprint. Now exactly which kind of listeners will be gratified by this release is something indefinable; obviously the doom/sludge aficionados among us are already wetting their pants, but in my estimates the listening group should extend to a much wider circle.

(originally written for Chronicles of Chaos - 20/10/2005)

Worship - Last CD Before Doomsday (Weird Truth Productions, 2004)

 

_LCBD_ is actually a re-release by Weird Truth Records of Worship's famed debut demo tape released back in 1999. The first pressing of this album, released a near two years ago, was limited to 500 copies. There was also a vinyl re-issue, aptly named _Last vinyl before doomsday_, released in 2002 by Painiac records.

Worship is a rare breed: slow, crushing, sombre. Why would anyone play like this? Indeed, the emotional predisposition that one may possess in order to express himself through such an angst-ridden outlet must be a languishing mental state at the very least. Such is Worship's "Last CD before doomsday"; a requiem of pain and anguish slowly unravelling itself in smothering shades of grey and musical themes of utter hopelessness, in other words a quality piece of despodent funeral doom. An exiguity of chord changes that drag themselves on painfully slow rhythms is what predominately characterises the music per se while growls, whispers, shrieks and the occasional depressing keyboards penetrate this omnipresent veil of languid down-tuned guitar riffage.

What is clearly emanated and felt at a deeper level is that fear of surrendering the soul into endless void, the apprehension of witnessing nothingness, the tragedy of contemplation; it’s quite engaging how such minimalist musicianship can convey such bleak yet deeply ingrained emotions. After a while of absorbed listening, all we are left with is just the listener and this macabre dance of notes, assimilated through the senses in all their essence. With all musical elements taken en bloc, this is nothing more than a glorification of self-denial and like in all acts of worship there is indeed a sacrifice that takes place here; a sacrifice of anything life-affirming.

And again, why would anyone want to play like this? No, the duo behind this offering isn’t playing by choice but by necessity. A need, a spiritual yearning for release if you will, that is almost intuitively evident after a careful listen of this blackened piece of music.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”…and let your mind sink in Worship’s formidable abyss.

(originally written for Tartarean Desire - 26/8/2006)

_LCBD_ is actually a re-release by Weird Truth Records of Worship's famed debut demo tape released back in 1999. The first pressing of this album, released a near two years ago, was limited to 500 copies. There was also a vinyl re-issue, aptly named _Last vinyl before doomsday_, released in 2002 by Painiac records. Worship is a rare breed: slow, crushing, sombre. Why would anyone play like this? Indeed, the emotional predisposition that one may possess in order to express himself through such an angst-ridden outlet must be a languishing mental state at the very least. Such is Worship's "Last CD before doomsday"; a requiem of pain and anguish slowly unravelling itself in smothering shades of grey and musical themes of utter hopelessness, in other words a quality piece of despodent funeral doom. An exiguity of chord changes that drag themselves on painfully slow rhythms is what predominately characterises the music per se while growls, whispers, shrieks and the occasional depressing keyboards penetrate this omnipresent veil of languid down-tuned guitar riffage.
What is clearly emanated and felt at a deeper level is that fear of surrendering the soul into endless void, the apprehension of witnessing nothingness, the tragedy of contemplation; it’s quite engaging how such minimalist musicianship can convey such bleak yet deeply ingrained emotions. After a while of absorbed listening, all we are left with is just the listener and this macabre dance of notes, assimilated through the senses in all their essence. With all musical elements taken en bloc, this is nothing more than a glorification of self-denial and like in all acts of worship there is indeed a sacrifice that takes place here; a sacrifice of anything life-affirming.
And again, why would anyone want to play like this? No, the duo behind this offering isn’t playing by choice but by necessity. A need, a spiritual yearning for release if you will, that is almost intuitively evident after a careful listen of this blackened piece of music.
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here”…and let your mind sink in Worship’s formidable abyss.
- See more at: http://www.tartareandesire.com/reviews/Worship/Last_CD_Before_Doomsday/3533/#sthash.z1s6xrmH.dpuf

Grey - The First Shade Of... (Avantgarde Music, 2005)

 

This French one-man outfit manages to achieve pretty much what the band’s name suggests: there’s nothing really cheerful, optimistic or overly ‘white’ about its sound but then again it doesn’t throw you head first into the Abyss; instead it leaves you in the murkiness and dankness of its audial limbo state. Although not really popular within the nowadays over-saturated Black Metal scene, Grey are not the first of their ilk. Numerous acts such as Xasthur, Leviathan, Nortt and Forgotten Tomb have managed to produce their own good share of suicide-inducing black metal with a doomish vibe. The constituent materials are pretty much simple: take the minimalistic and dissonant elements of good ol’ black and blur them with the hazy and brooding ambience of doom’s most depressing acts. The result is what you might call Black/Doom tracing its roots back to the atmospheric desolation of Burzum’s early and mid catalogue and Darkthrone’s caliginous imagery. Nine tracks are contained within Grey’s debut, all of which comprise of doomesque musical interlayers ardently wrapped around their more than conspicuous black metal backbone. So as you might’ve guessed don’t expect your blast beat, tremolo riffing extravaganza; the album’s aim is not to give you a sore neckline but rather to act as an audial accompaniment to a deep contemplative (suicidal even?) reverie. But the album unfortunately falls short in its intended outcome although adept and satisfactory both technically and production-wise. Be it the loathed drum machine (although hardly distinct at times), the unneeded at many a time tempo waverings or the abundant exceedingly stretched musical passages within certain tracks which attenuate the whole effect, when the album hits the finish mark it leaves you craving for more as if shutting the window to its self-created abyss too prematurely. Nonetheless this is an album that although not necessarily standing out of the crowd is an appeasing and worthy effort.

(originally written for Tartarean Desire - 8/8/2005)

Valarauk - Black Winters Eternal Embrace (Self-financed, 2005)

 

Ok, there's doom metal and then there's slow and caliginous doooom metal played from the deepest recesses of the soul. Valarauk definitely belong to the latter case. What we have here with their first demo are four songs creeping on low-end and crawling guitars pacing on slow rhythms (with intermitting faster passages) throughout a course of 20 minutes taking us on tour through their darkened catacombs. Throughout the demo one can’t help but notice this vibe of pessimism and gloom oozing through the speakers. Vocals stand at a very satisfying level with your typical cookie-monster growls and the occasional shriek from time to time. Tempo is not exactly funereal but definitely slow enough. Production is raw and dirty but quite frankly I wouldn’t have it otherwise. Valarauk also make use of keyboard synths which interlace nicely with their overall sound. There are definitely times in the demo reminiscent of their Finnish funeral doom counterparts but there are faster passages as well which differentiate them from the funeral doom sub-genre. These become more conspicuous towards the end of the last track releasing all the built up momentum. Definitely this spew of wretched death/doom hits the spot as far as creating murky and grim atmospheres. Awaiting their debut…

(originally written for Tartarean Desire - 2/8/2005)