Showing posts with label depressive black. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depressive black. Show all posts

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Sanctus Daemoneon - The unaVOIDable (2010)

Having missed this unusual Danish acts debut Grey Metropolis two years ago, I had absolutely no idea what to expect from its followup, but there it was, sitting in my mailbox and calling out to me with the odd capitalization of its title and a rather striking image of smoke stacks and dense smogs, the band's rather minimal logo pinned in between in beautiful symmetry. Judging by the cover art, the title of this and their previous album, I was fully expecting to be struck by some harsh industrial black metal act, but was very surprised that Sanctus Daemoneon do not only avoid this mold, but they avoid nearly every mold you could tack upon them. I suppose the trio's aesthetic core would place them somewhere at a crossroads of depressive, minimal black metal, light use of ambient electronics and Gothic/shoegazer elements, but to actually hear the band in motion is quite evocative and unique.

The unaVOIDable is dispersed across 10 tracks in 47 minutes, each of which is title only by a Roman numeral. Thus, it is pretty clear that the best digestion of the product is taken as a whole, though not so exclusive that you couldn't split it into its components and appreciate them within the economy of the modern work & family life, though I'd keep this band away from your family, because feelings of confusion, depression and utter nihilism are bound to form upon the brow of any listener to these Danish gloomnauts. A standard 'night out' here includes a simple drum selection, programmed, while minimal waves of effected, Gothic tinged guitars and bleak, sparse electronics manifest alongside the grisly poetry of the frontman Corso. It's both an experience of calm and one of dire morbidity, as the lyrics and samples are positively negative. Often, as in the track "IV", the band will let a heavier face bleed through, and in these spaces they remind me slightly of the amazing Austrian band Summoning, but instead of mountains and monoliths of a fantasy setting, Sanctus Daemoneon channels the urban and decaying shadows of our own civilization's underbelly, our 'trade off' and toxic 'run off' for globalist expansion.

Trust me when I tell you that this is one hypnotic experience that becomes more difficult to escape the further in you travel. Particular favorites were the flowing, sewage-tribalism of "V", Corso's vocals evoking nightmares across the scintillation of atmospherics and jaded guitar twinge; "VII" feels like the makings of a calm, progressive ballad concentric within minimal circles, patiently transitioning shrill background noises to the fore while the vocals play like a rusted razor upon an uncertain wrist. Something like "IX" would be more accessible and almost funky like globes of blood dripping from said wrist to a rusted shower grate in masturbatory bliss, and the closer "X" sounds like an awkward Robert Smith moment, if Robert Smith forgot to clear his throat and became the grimmest motherfucker ever, letting his tea kettle whistle for a few seconds and then playing the most drawn out, 80s minimalist approximation of his main band, soon to be discarded when jokingly sacrificed to the record label.

If ANY of these descriptions made any sense to you, then you must immediately acquire this album and lose yourself in its wholly unintended charms, because you simply do not hear its like every day. The lyrics are also usually decent, though the subjects are predictable. Could this sophomore be better? Yes. Often the riffs evoke nothing more than a submissive atmosphere for which the vocals can coil about your spine, and the shrill tweaking sounds range from annoying to ravishing. This is best absorbed all at once, because the individual tracks do not express a wealth of variation. They're primarily slow and absolved to their fate, and you find yourself pining for some breath of differential, which does arrive in the form of a sample or new synth tone to keep you strung along, but I'd love to hear what this band could do in a more dynamic range. That being said, The unaVOIDable should indeed be unavoidable if you desire a sound that starts with extreme metal, cuts out most of the aggressive, harsh guitars and then goes caving in the yawning chasms of the soul, a last hour of decision on whether this world is worth it, or you'll take your chances with the next. As the band reminds us in their bio, 'Life is worth leaving', and the music certainly reflects this notion.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (the night no longer young)

http://www.myspace.com/sdaemoneon

Friday, March 26, 2010

Leviathan - The Tenth Sub Level of Suicide (2003)

Press play. Begin the downward spiral. Suicide beckons with cold, grey fingers.

There is no light for you...
at the end of the tunnel

Leviathan is the work of Jeff Whitehead aka Wrest, California tattoo artist and DSBM one-man wrecking crew. If despair could ever be a beautiful thing, he achieves it regularly with his albums. Poetic song titles, carefully written lyrics, riffs elegant in their simplistic, torturous harmony. The aural equivalent of watching a snake slither. Repulsive and beautiful at once.

His vocals are much like I would imagine the cries of a patient in the days of early psychiatric 'treatment'. "Fucking Your Ghost In Chains of Ice" is a frighteningly grim track. If it were personified it would dust off its lapels casually and put out a cigarette in the eye of many bedroom black metal bands that try and fail to achieve this level of despair.

"Sardoniscorn" continues at nearly ten minutes with a nifty little riff that will stick in your head, along with an entrancing combination of vocals and percussion. There is a breakdown (no, not some mosh-fodder, trust me) that gives way to a positively creepy piano/bass section that I'll leave for you to interpret on your own.

Never ending the sound
rope creaking in mine night
the eyes of spectres
which call to me
reflecting every
movement to die
"Come with us
you belong to us
kill yourself
you deserve this."

The song explodes in a crescendo of pure, sweet, unfiltered black metal wonder. "The Bitter Emblem of Dissolve" almost sounds like it could be off a different album at first, giving off a Nordic vibe. As if fallen warriors are crying out to valkyries from some unfathomable eldritch limbo.

Skipping ahead, "He Whom Shadows Move Towards" has a terrific atmosphere and sound, almost as if My Bloody Valentine had given up the romantic shoegazing for black metal. I absolutely love this song. The vocals are absolutely tortured, however the song offers some dark, and yet magestic (and even at times beautiful) music.

Hidden in plain sight
uttering unheard volumes
a soliloquy of the shadow
darkest broad day-light

"Submersed" is a lovely dark electronic piece, a break from the fury if you will. The album finishes out with three long tracks, all amazing. The final song "At the Door to the Tenth Sub Level of Suicide" is the heaviest of the album, a fifteen minute tour-de-force and possibly my very favorite on the album.

The Tenth Sub Level of Suicide is an essential album for the black metal fan, even if the depressive/suicidal sub-genre isn't your bag. Musically, lyrically, it's all there and then some. Haunting, beautiful, so traditional and yet I've never heard anything like it. Perfection.

Verdict: Epic Win [10/10] (and ice is wept by the sun)

Friday, November 7, 2008

I'm In a Coffin - One Final Action (2008)

My psychic powers told me this was going to be a very self-aware, tongue in cheek album of minimal, raw, suicidal, depressive black metal.

After I listened to the album, I have come to the conclusion this is a very self-aware, tongue in cheek album of minimal, raw, suicidal, depressive black metal.

Unfortunately it's not very good, especially when you compare it to similar bands like Make a Change...Kill Yourself. The vocals are pretty tortured sounding and suit the album well, the bass playing is kind of trippy, but the guitars are just really fucking boring, fuzzy garbage. I think if you took this dude's voice and put it on a better album you'd have something quite kick ass and disturbing, but here the music isn't helping and I didn't wind up feeling disturbed or depressed in the slightest. I just kept looking at my watch every few minutes until it was over.

I will point out that even through the bitter stings of irony like "Finally Happy", the band does err a little more on the serious side than just making fun of the genre. But it's hard not to laugh when you have song titles like "Wrist Deep in Depression", "I'm a Weapon Against Myself". and "Corpses in Living Masks". If these guys are actually mocking the depressive scene, then I might consider it pure genius. But I'm not so sure.

Verdict: Fail [4/10]
(I stand at the edge and weep)

http://www.myspace.com/iminacoffin