The thing about funeral doom is that it takes some facet of the sheer terror, bleakness, and beauty of existence and stretches it out into a swelling, breathing mass of pure sonic depressiveness and introspection. As for nautic doom, the sole purveyor of which seems to be Germany’s AHAB, with the possible addition of SEAHAG, it strives for the same effect, but replacing outright despondency and depression with epic tales of nautical beasts and seafaring melancholy that might well be interpreted as metaphors for the unrelenting loneliness, travails and isolation of modern life. AHAB’s latest full-length, The Giant, follows 2009’s The Divinity of Oceans with another mournful, slow, and doomy effort, crawling along like a man whose lungs are filled with salt water, the last warm touch of euphoria and the grim realization of the end striking all at once.
AHAB’s music conveys the subtle yet massive, tempestuous power of the seas. Tracks like “Further South” come on slow and unassuming, calm yet despondent, with a clean, ringing guitar tone and thoughtful sung vocals that look into the endless deep blue that gives way to black. The sound is expansive, moving into low, croaking gutturals and bludgeoning, distorted sludge and chug—the danger lurking just below the surface. Still, it remains introspective, returning to the mournful clean vocals, like OPETH on a doom trip mixed with the almost subsonic gutturals of LOSS.
“Aeons Collapse,” at the long end of AHAB’s spectrum at over 12 minutes in length, though most songs hover around the ten minute mark, begins with haunting whispers that draw into a tortured yell, like a lost man calling out for rescue, trapped within endless time falling in on itself. The shouting becomes half-sung in places as chords ring out, bent and dissonant, basic but powerful. AHAB utilizes a strong economy of riffs. If something is worth saying, it’s worth taking your time to say it—maximum impact, minimum waste, even in an epic. The glassy clean guitar tone plays off the guttural lows that echo as though captured in a subsurface cavern, while minimalist lead work adds depth. The sonic quality is pristine, and the plodding drums are given room to hiss and boom because the room is there in the music’s slow, viscous crawl.
There’s a touch of MY DYING BRIDE in the clean vocals as well, as can be heard on “Deliverance.” Then “Antarctica the Polymorphess” slogs through the mire of the depths, taking us from dark to light, bottom to surface, with a song as a story of tragedy, horror, and lament that is hugely moving. Everything is given ample space to develop, as it could be three to four minutes before the vocals are even brought in. “Fathoms Deep” brings more of the same, with a passage not unlike the Twilight Zone theme at the song’s halfway point, and another take on the guttural vocals—a vibrating growl rather than the usual croak.
Folk harmonies take over at the beginning of the title track, the album closer, which captures the slow swell of the oceans, desolation, the unknown, with glistening clean guitar highs like sun reflecting off dappled waters moving into slow, sludgy lows. The Giant is music to lose yourself in the infinite possibilities of Challenger Deep, or to close your eyes with the headphones on and contemplate the slow descent to the Marianas Trench. There’s a long way down to go, and the nautic doom of AHAB plots the endless course.
Amarok (Orca Wolf)
There have been so many variations of sludge and doom over the past five years or so that all but the purists and the dedicated sometimes forget about what the straightest path to a musical destination sounds like. It’s never quite that simple though, is it? What some hear as monotone and unwavering, others hear as hypnotic and subsonic. How does a band then move in one direction in a way is most purposeful and least likely to induce sleep? Well, I’m not exactly certain, but I do know that Northern California’s Amarok do it – and do it well – on their two-track, self-titled vinyl LP.
Consisting of two aptly titled cuts (“I” and “II”), which can be found – unsurprisingly – on Side A and Side B, respectively, where Amarok excel with their brand of scathing doom is not in the art of fucking about. It is in their ability to stay the course for nearly 13 minutes on “I” and nearly 17 on “II” without boring the ever living shit out of anyone that’s not a doomster of resolute dedication. It is all about subtle, yet smart, variation and keen accent, as exemplified by the weaving of melancholic moments into the suffocating crush of “II” or the particularly deft manner in which sadistic sludge shrieks are alternated with death growls on “I.”
You may not catch it the first time around, but you’ll hear enough to bring you right back to it at which point you will become captive to the flowing lava, falling rocks, and funeral-procession pace. You’ve got to appreciate a band that sticks to the fundamentals and doesn’t try to do so goddamned much, yet still sounds “musical” within its chosen genre constructs. In other words, you’ll visit for the cranium-splintering heaviness and end up staying for the sharply subtle compositional values. “Wow” is probably going too far. “Damn solid” seems more fitting.
Oh yeah, you can also download the album for free at this location www.orcawolf.com, but please consider donating at least a few bucks for it. Better yet, buy the vinyl!
Has there ever been an Esoteric release which was able to fit on single disc?!? Nope, for this British band’s engaging take on the funeral doom genre is simply too gargantuan, too massively epic to possibly be kept below double-disc status.
Paragon of Dissonance is the band’s sixth LP, picking up exactly where 2008′s awesome The Maniacal Vale left off, a.k.a. pure, unadulterated doom brilliance. Light years ahead of their Epistemological Despondency debut, Paragon contains all of the prerequisite ‘funeral trappings’-slothful tempos, sub-level growling and an overall atmosphere of suicidal, drug induced dread-yet eclipses nearly all of its peers when it comes to memorable, engaging songwriting.
Much of the credit here needs to be placed at the feet of guitarists Jim Nolan and Greg Chandler-who also provides the vocals-and their impeccable knack for keeping their doom metal riff-fest both memorable and melodic. Despite the sprawling length of these tracks, never does Paragon of Dissonance become boring. In fact, multiple listens unveil even more new and exciting aspects of these songs, all of which come together to create the best funeral doom album since…well, since Esoteric’s last jam!
Paragon of Dissonance is one big build-up to doom metal ecstasy; a righteous reaffirmation for the style, and proof that originality still lurks within the heart of men willing to play it slow, thoughtful and mature. Outstanding.
One of my biggest pet-peeves is when someone makes up a new sub-genre and they’re the only adherer to said sub-genre. Then, for years, metal fans will hear that term and try to use it as if it’s a real thing. Take for instance, AMON AMARTH coining the term ‘Viking Metal’. Well, guess what, they’re not Viking Metal and no one else is Viking Metal. AMON AMARTH are a great band who play a more melodic style of Death Metal. Yes, their lyrical content deals with vikings but their GENRE is something different.
There is an exception to every rule though.
This time the exception is Denver’s CLINGING TO THE TREES OF A FOREST FIRE. The band describes themselves as ‘Funeral Grind’ and, guess what — they nailed it! There is no certain genre that you can stick CTTTOAF into. They obviously have fast-paced, typical grind moments in their songs but they also have this overwhelming sludgey, doomy dirge that makes you feel as if everything, for that brief moment, is about to fall apart.
If CTTTOAF were filmmakers instead of musicians, our MetalGeorge would be a happy man as this band sounds like a Blood Horror film put to tape. The chaotic bursts of grind perfectly describe the moments while the prey is scrambling, trying to get away from the predator and then, almost perfectly, the soundtrack slips into the deepest, darkest groove imaginable when, if this were a movie, the predator would finally sink his knife into the victim and place them in a shallow grave.
That’s a long-winded explanation for CLINGING TO THE TREES OF A FOREST FIRE, but it’s certainly needed to explain while ‘Funeral Grind’ works. That’s what this band is. They aren’t a Death Metal band or Grindcore or anything else. They are ‘Funeral Grind’ and I can’t get enough of them.
Now, the band has teamed with French blackened grinders NESSERIA for a new split release that is currently available for free online via Throatruiner Records. The album contains four tracks from each bands and all of it is dirtier and more intense than anything I’ve ever heard from either of these bands. You can check out the music for free right now at the following location. If you like it, then pre-order the vinyl version of this that will be out shortly!
Now, I don’t know how KYPCK is pronounced “Kursk” but that’s what I’m told it says… Either way, what we have here is a Finnish doom metal band singing in Russian. Do I understand this or the concept behind it, no! Do I think it sounds cool, yes! This song is heavy, dark funeral doom and I fucking love it! Check it out, as well as their new album ‘Lower’ which is out now!
The Myspace page for Brisbane (Queensland), Australia’s MIDNIGHT ODYSSEY begins with the quote “The forest mourners are forever heard…” Based on that quote alone, those at least modestly seasoned in the ever expanding world of metal could surmise that the style of music played on Firmament is neither grindcore nor death metal; sludge nor hardcore punk. If you guessed that the musical neighborhood within which Firmament resides is black metal then you should reward yourself handsomely with a package of gingersnaps, the prize designated for the contest’s first runner up. If in your answer the word “ambient” preceded “black metal,” then congratulations are in order, as you are the grand prize winner and should immediately find someone to buy you a family-size package of dryer sheets.
MIDNIGHT ODYSSEY is not a “band” in the common usage of the term, but rather one individual, Dis Pater, who is responsible for vocals, guitars, bass, and keys on Firmament, an album of long compositions drenched in a kind of doomed shrouded, lushly arranged, and vaguely folk infused brand of ambient black metal. In fact, save for the moments of moderately dissonant guitars and sparse use of vocals that sound more like the utterances of a dying man, the average fan of the form would barely recognize it as black metal. (more…)
