I: Oblivion (Church Road Records) is, despite the inference in the title, actually the second part of the album series, as Vnder A Crvmbling Moon released 0.1 Prelude back in February. And, don’t be fooled (again), just because this British band spells their name with a bunch of V’s they are not black metal – the VACM sound falling in the cracks between sludge and doom.
God is an Astronaut is an Irish quartet that is probably best classified as Dark Ambient Metal. Helios|Erebus (Revive) is their eighth studio album. GIAA’s strength has always been intense soundscapes, which can be soothing even when completely filled with noise.
This album is incredibly varied and complex, varying from ‘Obscura Somnia’, which is almost an ode to melancholy, to ‘Big Powder’, a song which has such a sludgy synth and distorted bass that it creates a delectably gloomy atmosphere. One of the highlights is the combination of ‘Vetus Memoria’ and ‘Finem Solis’: opening with stunning piano lines with dark and sweeping guitar, one song subtly flows into the next, opening up to electronic ambient with a certain romantic streak to it. The romance doesn’t last, however, as it devolves into noise before transforming to a more organic ambient sound.
‘Helios Erebus’ has some of the best guitar riffs of the album. The echo over the muted riffs really breathes life into the composition while the rest of the music is still subdued, and the straight chords that feature later add a sense of urgency. This song in particular really flows to and fro between subdued and ethereal, hard and heavy. The second heavy section is introduced by a bassline that almost serves as a warning, and is followed by some excellent drumming. But the best piece on the album must surely be ‘Centralia’. This stunning composition has some heavy riffs that are spine-tinglingly good, so thick you can almost sink your teeth into them.
In short, Helios | Erebus is a soundscape even more intense than GIAA’s previous works, and is highly recommended to anyone who enjoys dark and atmospheric metal.
9.5/10
LORRAINE LYSEN
Galley Beggar is an English Folk Rock band who combines traditional songs with a modern Psychedelic sound. This sextet proves that the genre of Folk is still very much alive and kicking, and thrives on musical innovations.
As the title suggests, Silence and Tears (Rise Above) is quite a melancholic album. While this is generally not an issue, I did find the lyrics in ‘Adam and Eve’ to be a bit off-putting… I guess a bitter and judgemental Adam complaining to God how everything was Eve’s fault isn’t really my style. Musically, however, this is an excellent song which shows off the beautiful combinations of acoustic guitar, bass and violin, as well as the dominant female vocals. Another song where the vocals are really powerful is ‘Empty Sky’. The contrast with mellow violins and the excellent bass lines makes the song very dynamic.
The vocals on ‘Pay my Body Home’ are also really good: they are not so much main and backing vocals as dual leads, with another line on guitar. The guitars sound very distant, and the overall vibe of the song is very mellow. However, the best vocal combinations on this album are in ‘Deliver Him’, where the arrangements are almost overwhelmingly beautiful.
The guitars on ‘Sanctuary Song’ are dance effectively, and it is certainly my favourite song of the album. While it still has a touch of that melancholy that infuses this album, the lines of the guitars also have the sound of hope and a hint of cheerfulness.
Galley Beggar is helping folk music evolve and Silence and Tears may well be a crucial step in that evolution. It certainly is a very interesting one.
7.5/10
LORRAINE LYSEN
I was hugely into Grunge in the 90s. I’ll never forget when a mate of mine came back from visiting its home and decreed it “the most miserable place on earth”. I was gutted. Maybe, however, it is such surroundings that fuel Seattle duo Bell Witch, whose blend of crushing Sludge, funereal melancholy and occasional Americana first bewitched the senses three years ago. Interest is high in Four Phantoms (Profound Lore), the band’s sophomore album, and yours truly is frothing at the mouth…
The emotions of a suppurating soul, in the moments before Experience kills it and undiluted cynicism sets in, are unbelievably raw; that capacity to feel true longing, joy and pain fighting with its dying breath. I’m not quite there…yet. There’s a feeling that these guys have really lived the anger and misery that exudes from every pore here and, when the almighty chord, drumbeat and roar combination explodes through the bassline of opener ‘Suffocation, A Burial:…’, accompanied by some sorrowful chimes, it creates simultaneously a feeling of euphoria, and a fearful despair of nothingness. Each note sparing, heightening the impact and more fully conveying the acuity of bitterness and sadness.
There’s real songcraft here; everything having its place and arranged with both passion and precision. Another explosion follows a brief lull of forlorn incantation, the melodic chords piercing every leaden punch. You’re aware it’s coming yet, when it does, its unfathomable weight disembowels, with Dylan Desmond‘s terrifying Blackened scream increasing the chills and the emptiness. This colossal opening really embodies that sense of personal loss and implosive grief; the agonies of the harmonised tones which lead into the last five minutes of this 22-minute epic duelling with Adrian Guerra‘s harrowing roars; the tension, power and mournful ecstasy almost unbearable.
The sparing chords of ‘Suffocation, a Drowning:…’, heavy to the head as an opiate and to the heart as a sudden arrest, possess a staggering delicacy enhanced by the stark guest voice of Aerial Ruin‘s Erik Moggridge; an evocative dark-folk delivery not unlike Art Garfunkel‘s deeper moments. The first half of this gorgeous yet soul-rending track is a sequence of crushing bass riffs and single beats, disturbing yet emotive solos and devastating harmonies, contrasting the subject matter yet sounding completely organic. The change in tone to the second half is similarly begun, so subtly it’s almost unnoticed – a more sinister exclamation in the solo chords introducing a period of brutalised roars and screams which only briefly affects the melancholy allure; returning but wearing an hooded cloak, the crushing power now swirling around slightly piqued yet honeyed vocals. The serenely mellow bass notes closing this quite staggering track ensure an almost stifled epiphany; the depth of meaning, the finality, truly felt.
It’s in marked contrast to the horrifying blast of sound crawling from the opening atmospheric ambience of album closer ‘Judgement, In Air:…’: the death throes of an apocalypse, the deep roar still counteracted by lamenting chords, the drums titanic and deafening in their resonance, shrouded in hypnotic swells of sound, the whole seeps like a mix of honey and tar from the speakers, a dying body summoning one last effort to crawl to its desired resting place: a brief howl of anguish, a final, writhing squall…and it ends.
This won’t be for everyone. If slow, sad, oppressive, Sludgy Doom isn’t your thing then you’re unlikely to be attracted to this incredible piece of work. Those who are, however, captivated by the mix of Pallbearer, Profetus, and Primitive Man‘s fulminating bitterness and the invention and rare Blackened edges of Inter Arma, all wrapped up in a seething amalgam of horror and beauty, will appreciate the wonder of a band beyond superlative and for whom there is no peak. Bell Witch continue to confound, enthral, terrify and move in equal measure; and in creating a second album of such weight and emotion prove themselves peerless.
Stop the wondering. This is the album for our twisted, corrupt, hubristic times and, arguably, the album of this century.
10.0/10.0
PAUL QUINN
I know that I probably shouldn’t have been surprised, but, goodness me, Atriarch’s latest foray into the blackened musical underworld, the beguiling An Unending Pathway (Relapse) is a very strange record. Strange in a good way, you understand. It’s strange in a disconcerting, haunting and sometimes unnerving way as well, if truth be known. Are you getting the picture yet? Yep, the third album from these curious citizens of Portland, Oregon is all kinds of odd.
Atriarch’s artistic growth gathered pace with their last album The Ritual of Passing (Profound Lore) which was a veritable smorgasbord of musical ideas, breathless interludes and a properly scary undercurrent running throughout. Having moved to Relapse Records, you would not be entirely surprised if the band played things to the gallery and delivered something relatively safe. Proverbial hats off to them then as An Unending Pathway, if anything, packs in more ideas and textures than its predecessor and, despite the often diverse, uncompromising approaches and innovations they have opted for, feels completely cohesive and immersive, In other words, I like it a lot.
Opening track ‘Entropy’ begins proceedings with distinct echoes of Slipknot’s ‘515’, an imagined Hades vomiting up its gnarled and gnarly denizens from their sulphuric lair into our seemingly doomed world. In terms of setting atmosphere and a sense of menace of impending doom, it does it with remarkable aplomb. Dark chants and incantations preface a dark rock track that, vocally, sounds akin to what would happen had The Fall’s Mark E Smith had ever accepted an invitation to join Black Sabbath.
There’s a similarly moody gothic undercurrent to ‘Collapse’ with its tribal drum patterns, evil monk like chanting and slow burn menace. The military two step drumming at the beginning of ‘Revenant’ soon gives way to a black metal influenced noise rock that is bristling with malevolence and tortured anguish – Atriarch’s lot is clearly not a happy one. This deep sense of melancholy reaches its zenith on the brilliant ‘Bereavement’ where the black metal riffing and harrowing screams seem entirely apposite for the song’s subject matter; vocalist Lenny Smith puts in quite an extraordinary stint here where you believe completely in the singer’s pain and anguish.
The efficient balancing act between hard riffing and brooding melody is a key aspect across the whole album and that light and shade delivery keeps you engaged throughout. Whilst the black metal influences are nicely extolled there is no attempt to pummel the listener into submission: although claustrophobic, there is still room to take a breath and for the songs to inveigle their way into your cerebral cortex. This coaxing and coaching of the listener is perhaps best shown on the cacophonous delight that is ‘Rot’; rarely can bodily decomposition sound so appalling yet, in parallel, appealing.
An Unending Path is perhaps best experienced alone, in the dark with candles and lots of red wine. It is a richly textured album, full of strange vignettes, harrowing imagery and not a little guile and cunning. It’s the sort of record that you don’t think you will like, don’t think you’re enjoying when listening to it but you keep coming back to it, time and again, for another glimpse into the darkness that Atriarch have conjured. Like I said, strange: very strange indeed.
7.5/10
MAT DAVIES
Hypertension Records’ intriguing plan of releasing split 12” records with some of today’s most intense and serious artists began back in the spring with this little beauty which your humble scribe completely missed. After being sent to the naughty step, yours truly finally got around to listening to the damn thing the other day and (you probably know this already) is happy to report that it is gripping and compelling, often in equal measure.
On this stripped back but emotion-filled enterprise we get a dark and brooding Amenra, the clean vocal approach of ‘Wear My Crown’ underpinning, rather than lightening the sense of unease and disjointedness. There is definitely a sense of less is more here with the gaps between the notes having their own sense of impending doom. I know this is not technically possible but just take a listen. Likewise, ‘To Go On and Live Without’ is a subdued exercise in grace and elegance; heart-breaking, but in a gentle way.
By staggering contrast, the pummelling you get from VVounds is splenetic and full of bile and venom. You get the idea that VVounds are not an act to be messed about with: their heist like approach to song delivery (if song is the right word here) is without any sort of artifice or presumption; the energy is relentless and brutal; at their core is a sense of anger and injustice which leaps out of the speakers at you.
Both acts here are not for the faint-hearted, nor the casual listener. Both are intense albeit in aurally diverse ways; both though are very worthy of your time and undivided attention. My melancholy heart is with Amenra but that’s just me. Well worth investigating.
7.0/10
MAT DAVIES