We all listen to metal – and music generally – for different reasons. If you like to be taken on a slow, sonically abusive downward spiral into depression, ­­­­Weltesser’s Crestfallen (Prosthetic) is the perfect material. The Florida trio’s self-produced debut album is six tracks and 30 minutes of bleak, grim doom.

The promo material features the phrase “fuelled by sour diesel and misery”, and it is a description that perfectly encapsulates the tone. The only words to describe Weltesser are ones like bleak, grim, dirge, raw, and dour. From ‘Regret’s lumbering opening right through to the closing notes of the leaden-paced title track, Crestfallen is a relentless grind, an ending soul-crushing burden on the listener from start to finish.

The hails of feedback, sludgy riffs, Nate Peterson’s (Rotting Palms) pained screams, slow but crashing drumwork, even the squealing solos; every note sounds like it was designed to drain you of hope. And it’s very effective at it.

Even at a relatively brief 30 minutes, the monotony of the lumbering pace drags on. With its crushing riffs and almost jaunty-by-comparison pace, ‘Guide’ is probably the closest thing to a standout track, but some sort of interludes to relieve the grind would have been a welcome addition.

If bleak, depressing doom is up your street, they don’t come much more dispiriting than Weltesser. Thoroughly heavy. Thoroughly unpleasant.

6.0/10

DAN SWINHOE