There can be no doubt youth was a factor on Pilgrim‘s side when they made their debut with 2012’s Misery Wizard. Their first long-player was released in January of that year through Metal Blade following a just a demo and a 2011 split with fellow New Englanders Ice Dragon, and from the opening strains of “Astaroth” across the album’s willfully cumbersome 55-minute span, it was pure doom traditionalism with the kind of refresh that only a new generation could provide. Pilgrim — then the trio of guitarist/vocalist Jon “The Wizard” Rossi, bassist Eric “Count Elric the Soothsayer” Dietrich and drummer Nick “Krolg, Slayer of Men” Nosach — were kids and they looked like kids, but with Rossi‘s skullet and mournful voice, the band’s downcast image, depressive tonality, slow-rolling tempos and spacious mix, they tapped into the spirit of earliest The Gates of Slumber in their “true doom” sensibility. Misery Wizard was both the altar of worship and the paean itself when it came to doom for doomers by doomers.

So much of what you need to know is in the slowdown at the end of “Astaroth.” At six and a half minutes, the opener is among the shortest tracks on Misery Wizard — only the brazen, galloping penultimate cut, “Adventurer,” is shorter at 4:29 — and it’s a slog already by the time they’re five minutes in, but as the procession continues toward its inevitable conclusion, the trio bring it slower, slower, and slower until finally it crashes out. It’s not that they were the first doom band ever to stick a slowdown at the finish of a given track, but Pilgrim execute that moment with rare grace from one measure to the next, so that it happens gradually, not in jumps, and lets itself go into the fading feedback ahead of Misery Wizard‘s 10-minute title-track as if it’s opening a gate to the record itself. And, of course, it is.

“Misery Wizard” leads even further down into the D&D-pit-of-despair that Pilgrim craft atmospherically — so much fog and lurk and rolling-of-ones to be had — and arrives as the first of three more extended tracks that comprise the meat of the album, along with “Quest” (9:52) and “Masters of the Sky.” By the time it’s done, “Misery Wizard” is righteously torturous, and “Quest” at first continues the thread, but picks up the tempo shortly before the halfway point, feeling like something of a lifeline thrown to the listener making their way through the dense humidity of the record as a whole, and though it doesn’t last but for a few minutes and the song ends with the album’s loudest ring of feedback, that stretch serves its purpose well. I’ll take “Masters of the Sky” as the highlight of the album, Rossi‘s voice reaching desperately upward through the mix in the early going, layered in the second half and more forward, but still morose and placed well in the raw crash that surrounds ahead of another noisy finish.

Given its speedier shift, there’s really nowhere else to stick “Adventurer” but ahead of 12-minute closer “Forsaken Man.” It never gets quite to High on Fire-level brash, but it’s not far off, and in a different context — and a much smoother production — that main riff wouldn’t have been out of place on a record by The Sword. In Pilgrim‘s hands, the groove is fervent but the tailspin is more dangerous, and the cymbal wash and noise that consumes the better part of the last 40 seconds feels earned in a ringing-out kind of fuckall topped with more feedback.

And speaking of feedback — have I mentioned feedback? — the launch of “Forsaken Man” is like slamming headfirst into a wall of it before the band enact their lurchiest of lurches. The culmination of Misery Wizard hits into another level of grueling, cracking itself open after seven minutes to obscure gurgling, chanting or whatever it is before surging back somewhat to its zombified post-Saint Vitus march, which caps of course in suitably miserable fashion and yet more feedback. Pilgrim having established the method and unfurled their aural punishment at will throughout, it’s only fair they should underscore the point in the album’s final seconds. You wouldn’t call it brutal in the death metal sense, but it’s far from friendly.

I was lucky enough to see Pilgrim three times during this era. The first time was at a show in Brooklyn with Windhand and Magic Circle (review here) and the second time was Stoner Hands of Doom XII in Connecticut (review here), where they were slotted among the headliners and indeed pulled one of the weekend’s best crowds as I recall, and the third time was again in Brooklyn (review here). For such sonically downtrodden fare, the excited vibe around their set at the latter venue was palpable. People were into it. The hype was real and justified. They seemed like a band ready to hit the road, and they were, and they did, touring with Windhand, Heavy Temple, Age of Taurus and Spirit Caravan, among others during their time.

A follow-up to Misery Wizard arrived in March 2014’s II: Void Worship (review here), which found Rossi all the more stepped into his role as frontman as the band tightened their songwriting and explored new reaches of melody that they would seem to have discovered on tour. They’d been to Roadburn 2013 (review here) by then and were no longer kids getting their feet under them as a touring band or playing to genre so much as looking to make their mark on it. One recalls their video for “The Paladin” (posted here) as being particularly emblematic of their aesthetic and putting Rossi at the fore.

His death on Oct. 26, 2017, was the end of the band. By then, Pilgrim was him, Dietrich and Brad “Bradoc the Thunderer” Richardson on drums, and though he was only 26 years old, he’d already had significant impact on the doom underground and an influence on how the up and coming generation of riffers interacted with what had come before them. In my experience with him, he was a shy but friendly enough guy. His loss was deeply felt.

And that’s a sad note to end on, but I can’t help think of the potential Pilgrim had for a longer-term progression that never got to play out. Nine years after their debut, who knows what they might’ve accomplished by this time. Maybe nothing else. Maybe they would’ve broken up — their long tour with Spirit Caravan was a big disillusion moment for them, as well as a fiscal drain — or maybe their third album would’ve been their best yet. We’ll never get to know. What’s important to keep in mind with that is that not knowing doesn’t undercut the value or achievement that was either Misery Wizard or the sophomore outing, and that just because the potential didn’t have the chance to be fulfilled doesn’t mean it wasn’t there in the first place.

This was a good band.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

Another week.

This week I got to live one of my true parenting nightmares: poop in the bathtub. I’ve been in charge of The Pecan’s bathtime since before he could sit up. Three and a half years and counting, bathtime has been my purview. He’s always hated the bath, even though he’s got toys galore that live in the tub, bubblebath, the whole nine. He doesn’t want water in his face and I do my best to see that he doesn’t get it.

Because he’s so miserable going in his diaper at this point and yet terrified of the toilet because he’s not already completely mastered using it — or, in fact, using it at all — he holds in his poop. For, like, two days before he can’t anymore. That moment came yesterday while he was taking a bath. He was duly horrified. I had to dig through bubbles to find poop nuggets, staying calm and saying it was okay, it was an accident, accidents happen, and all that. I’d always dreaded poop in the tub. I guess it says something about the mundane horrors of parenting that by the time it actually happened, all that shit wasn’t shit, as it were.

Our next door neighbors have a newborn. You can see the drawn look in their faces. I think the guy’s a cop? I don’t know. We’re wave-to-each-other cordial. Every now and again The Patient Mrs. has a conversation. We went out when they brought the kid home. He was squidgy as newborns are. I like that age well enough. They just need you and sleep intermittently. I’ve been thinking about that time — end of 2017 — a lot as a result. I was pretty much dying. I found a picture of myself the other day from a month before he was born. I look sick and I was. Full on bulimic. What’re you gonna do. There’s a big part of me that misses that. The feeling of control. Shrug. Xanax to shut the ol’ brain up.

The weekends are hard lately, no break. I don’t remember what’s up for Monday but I know the week is full. Hang on. Yeah. Yo No Se video premiere Monday. Tuesday Mourn the Light. Wednesday Melissa. Thursday Wytch and Bottomless. Friday I’m gonna review something. Maybe Heavy Temple or Stöner, depending on my mood. Shrug again.

Alright, I think we’re all caught up. New Gimme show today, 5PM, and I still don’t know if I’m posting this before or after the Jack Harlon thing. I think before, because technically in Australia that post will be for Saturday morning? I don’t know. I’ll think about it while I dick around at Wegmans and look at food I’m not gonna let myself eat. It goes like that sometimes.

Thanks for reading. Great and safe weekend. Hydrate. Watch your head. Do what you need to do to get through the day. Go buy some Obelisk shorts from David at MIBK. He’s a great guy.

FRM.

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Tags: Metal Blade Records, Misery Wizard, Pilgrim, Pilgrim Misery Wizard, Providence, Rhode Island

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