Like the entirety of Cathedral‘s decades-spanning discography, 2002’s The VIIth Coming is owed a reissue. Though as to who even own the rights, I don’t know where you might start. The album was released through Dream Catcher Records in the band’s native UK, and Spitfire had a CD out in the US, Toy’s Factory with a bonus track in Japan. Hellion Records released it in Brazil in 2003, and Vinyl Maniacs did a 2LP version in Sweden. Metal Mind had a tape out in Poland. You get the point. Secret Records re-released a vinyl in 2015 and has done a CD this year, but I’m thinking more in the line of what Hammerheart Records has done for Trouble: a full catalog remaster/reissue. Get it all out there for people who want to dig in and do it with the due appreciation for what this band accomplished.

Recorded in July 2002 by Kit Woolven and released that Fall, The VIIth Coming was structured as a double-vinyl during the period when the CD era was actively giving over to digital-everything. The album runs 53 minutes — 59 if you chase down that Japanese edition — and arrived just one year behind 2001’s Endtyme, the Coventry doomers’ sixth record. And in the arc of their career, this was a special time, bringing together the formative doom metal of their earliest work with the more heavy rock-minded offerings — and I don’t give a shit what you say, those records are underrated — that followed. Endtyme did this well, but The VIIth Coming refined the method to a stellar degree. The weight in Gaz Jennings‘ chug on closer “Halo of Fire” and the accompanying lumber of Brian Dixon‘s drums and Leo Smee‘s bass. The way the eight and a half minutes of that song’s LP1 counterpart “The Empty Mirror” taps the best of ’90s-era doom, makes it swing, and still finds room for guest organ work (credited throughout the album to Munch). The Dave Patchett phoenix cover art and complementary design from SunnO)))‘s Stephen O’Malley. Vocalist Lee Dorrian‘s disgust with the everyday on songs like “Resisting the Ghost,” “Iconoclast,” which makes a hook out of classic anarchist sloganeering, and “Congregation of Sorcerer’s.”

From the outset of “Phoenix Rising,” Cathedral‘s purpose in bringing together rock and doom is right there for the listener to behold. The band’s sound is full and densely weighted, and Dorrian‘s vocals carry their dark tales that make even the image of a burning phoenix rising in triumph seem somehow grim and grey. “Resisting the Ghost,” which is just two and a half minutes long and the speediest track on the outing as one might expect, is no less catchy than the opener before it, and “Skullflower” provides a middle ground before the more atmospheric, acoustic-laced “Aphrodite’s Winter” follows through on the band’s more progressive aspects. Again, the organ work here is key, but the current of acoustic running alongside Jennings‘ electric lines is part of it as well, and as with the album as a whole, it’s everybody working together to convey the sense of ‘doom-plus’ that defines it. As far as Cathedral went in one direction or another during their time together, they never lost that foundation in doom. It’s there as much in “Aphrodite’s Winter” as “The Empty Mirror” and “Halo of Fire.” It’s just a matter of what they can make doom do for their songs, which by the time they got to this seventh record was more or less anything they wanted.

“Nocturnal Fist” and “Iconoclast” mirror “Phoenix Rising” and “Resisting the Ghost” on the first LP, but “Iconoclast” is longer and spaces out for a jammier feel in its second half anchored by Smee‘s bass before the verse jolts back in en route to a final chorus of, “No gods, no masters, no authority/Only yourself/Divine disciples control your destiny/Believe in yourself,” leaving zero space to argue as the track ends cold and gives way to the slamming swagger of “Black Robed Avenger,” like a boogie riff at one-third speed, and the more aggro shove of “Congregation of Sorcerer’s,” which still manages to work in cowbell because Cathedral were a mystery and mysteries are complex sometimes and whatever maybe there’s a cowbell here. “Halo of Fire” is a darkened victory lap of bleak aural force, but even it picks up tempo in its midsection before rolling the album into sample-laced organ oblivion. A last slog to hammer the point home of ultimate doom, and I swear, if you read the lyrics, they could just as easily be about Boris Johnson steering Brexit as about the end of the world. Just saying. Some things are timeless, and the unending apocalypse would seem to be one of them.

As I recall, they came to the US during this era, though it might’ve been ahead of their next record. Cathedral would issue three more full-lengths after The VIIth Coming. They signed to Nuclear Blast ahead of 2005’s The Garden of Unearthly Delights (discussed here), stayed there for 2010’s The Guessing Game (review here) and completed their run with 2013’s The Last Spire (review here) through Dorrian‘s own Rise Above Records. For a doom band who toured with Black Sabbath and had a creative arc across nearly a quarter-century that helped define more than one niche genre, Cathedral are arguably still underrated. Yes, they played doom at a time doom wasn’t ‘cool,’ but to go back to their work now is to find it still resonates these years after the fact, and that their progression from 1991’s Forest of Equilibrium (discussed here; reissue review here) forward never stopped, even as they sought to summarize the entirety of it with their final album.

Two live albums were released on vinyl last year, also through Rise Above, and of course it’s rock and roll so one never says never as regards a full reunion, but Dorrian‘s got With the Dead and Smee is there as well, Jennings was in Lucifer, and Dixon was most recently drumming for The Skull, so there’s plenty happening in that camp, even before you get to Dorrian‘s label work, etc. Whether it happens eventually or it doesn’t, one can never say Cathedral didn’t deliver a full, landmark career worthy of ongoing appreciation. The VIIth Coming is an essential part of their story.

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

—

Yesterday I slept until 7AM. Today until a bit before six. This was a direct result of The Pecan going back to school starting on Wednesday. I did not get everything I wanted done this week — the Blackwater Holylight interview will be posted next week — but I did manage to book two more interviews and to review a whole bunch of stuff and that’s gonna have to do for now. I do not plan to pick up my laptop tomorrow. Family is in town from CT and my contingent from up the hill is coming down to hang out and that will be wonderful.

We had some bumps getting The Pecan to school, some bus miscommunication, but today I didn’t get bit once and that’s a definite win. I’ll take it.

Highlight of the week, aside from that sleep, was King Crimson sharing the live review. That was an unexpected bit of bliss, and while I don’t for one second imagine the band does their own social media management, it’s nice to have one’s work acknowledged by a band at that level regardless. Clutch doesn’t even share my reviews usually, for example.

Nothing against them for that, obviously, and if I’ve got Clutch on my brain, it’s because they’re playing new songs on tour and they’re the next show I want to see. May or may not happen, to be honest.

Slated a sixth day for the next Quarterly Review this morning. That starts Sept. 27. It’ll go as long as I need it to go.

No Gimme show this week, but I need to turn in a playlist. Any requests?

Trying to think if there’s any other housekeeping stuff that needs to be done around here, but not really, so I’m gonna punch out early and go read some before I need to pick up the kid at school. Fingers crossed for bus on Monday, but we’ll see.

Hope you have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, whatever you’re doing, and wear a mask if you’re out and about. Hydrate, always.

FRM.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

Don’t quote me on this, but I’m pretty sure the material here being reissued as two 2LPs was what was bundled together in 2011 on the 2CD set Anniversary (review here), celebrating the Coventry doomers hitting the 20-year mark at a London show the year prior. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on here, but the new vinyl edition splits up the two sets into two separate releases, highlighting the Dave Patchett cover art and basically giving fans a limited-edition type way to re-experience the set. Of course, it’s worth noting that 2020 would mark 30 years of Cathedral if the band were still together, but their having called it quits in 2013 seems to have stuck at least to this point. In the age of inevitable reunions, I kind of respect that.

Of course the set is out on frontman Lee Dorrian‘s Rise Above Records. The PR wire has info:

CATHEDRAL Release 2LP Reissue of 20th Anniversary Concert ‘Return to the Forest’ + ‘Freak Winter’

Out May 8th

UK Doom Metal band CATHEDRAL are releasing a 2-LP record celebrating the band’s 20th anniversary concert in London. The first half of the release, ‘Return to the Forest’ covers the band’s first ever live performance of their album ‘Forest of Equilibrium’ at the London show. The second half of the record, ‘Freak Winter’ features another full set of the band’s classics and fan favorites from the evening. The full record will see a May 8th, 2020 release in four different pressing types. See below for more details.

‘Return to the Forest’ Lineup: Lee Dorrian, Garry Jennings, Adam Lehan, Mark Griffiths, Mike Small

‘Freak Winter’ Lineup: Lee Dorrian, Garry Jennings & Leo Smee w/ keyboard wizard Dave Moore

‘Return to the Forest’ & ‘Freak Winter’ Vinyl Pressings:
Black Sparkle Vinyl (500 of each)
Black Vinyl (500 of each)
Purple Vinyl – US Edition (500 each)
?
ORDER: ‘Return to the Forest’

Side One
1. A Picture of Beauty and Innocence
2. Commiserating the Celebration
3. Ebony Tears

Side Two
1. Serpent Eve
2. Soul Sacrifice

Side Three
1. A Funeral Request
2. Equilibrium

Side Four
1. Reaching Happiness, Touching Pain

ORDER: ‘Freak Winter’

Side One
1. Funeral Of Dreams
2. Enter The Worms
3. Upon Azrael’s Wings

Side Two
1. Midnight Mountain
2. Cosmic Funeral
3. Carnival Bizarre

Side Three
1. Night Of The Seagulls
2. Corpsecycle
3. Ride

Side Four
1. The Last Spire Pt.1 (Entrance)
2. Vampire Sun
3. Hopkins (Witchfinder General)

https://www.facebook.com/cathedral/
https://www.facebook.com/riseaboverecords/
http://www.riseaboverecords.com/

Cathedral, ‘Back to the Forest’ 2009 Documentary

Cathedral, The Garden of Unearthly Delights (2005)

The various eras of Cathedral have their detractors and proponents, and if I’m perfectly honest, I don’t know where 2005’s The Garden of Unearthly Delights sits in terms of average fan esteem. And not to put too fine a point on it, but I also don’t really care. The record rules. It was the Coventry-based doomers’ eighth album, and also marked their first offering through Nuclear Blast after releasing 2002’s The VIIth Coming through Dream Catcher/Spitfire Records and spending the bulk of their career to that point on Earache Records, to which they signed ahead of their 1991 landmark debut, Forest of Equilibrium (discussed here; reissue review here).

Vocalist Lee Dorrian‘s ties to England’s formative years of grindcore in Napalm Death and Cathedral‘s transition from the harsher-edged doom of their own beginnings to and through the other end of stoner rock in LPs like 1996’s Supernatural Birth Machine and 1998’s Caravan Beyond Redemption and into the mature doom of 2001’s Endtyme and the aforementioned The VIIth Coming were already given considerations when it came to the band, and as they made their way onto Nuclear Blast for the first time, it seemed like they had a chance to refresh their sound with a collection of hyper-strong songs that not only reconciled the various sides of their approach, but celebrated them, giving the doom and the rock their due while looking through a progressive lens at what the band — who by then had already been together for some 16 years — might still accomplish. That’s exactly what The Garden of Unearthly Delights became.

Produced by Warren Riker, who’s probably more known for the work he was doing around that time with the likes of Crowbar and the resurgent Down, The Garden of Unearthly Delights highlighted the to-that-point-undervalued aspect of songwriting in the work of Dorrian and his fellow founder, guitarist Gaz Jennings, as well as bassist/flutist/mellotronist/synthesist Leo Smee and drummer Brian Dixon (lately to be found in The Skull). Its 10-track/70-minute run made it some 17 minutes longer than its predecessor, but it used that time wisely and purposefully, even if splitting up the near-27-minute multi-movement epic “The Garden” onto two vinyl sides of a double-LP version made for a somewhat awkward (and also, one has to admit, more digestible) presentation.

But even the preceding psych-doom quirk — singing kids, ’60s garage bounce, strings and all — of “Beneath a Funeral Sun,” the songs throughout The Garden of Unearthly Delights are unquestionably the focus of the record itself, rather than any particular stylistic concern. And the album is that much stronger for that. It’s as though Cathedral threw up their hands to some degree and said, “screw it, we don’t know what we’re supposed to sound like so let’s have fun,” and don’t tell anybody I said so — because what could be less doom than admitting to a good time — but The Garden of Unearthly Delights is an absolute blast. Sure, it opens grim with the intro “Dearth AD,” but that’s just the first minute, and then it’s off through the gruff riffing of “Tree of Life and Death,” dirty, rocking, brash — and fun.

So much fun. Crazy catchy. But not dumb. The arrangement is clever, the mix is golden and the performance is vital. “Tree of Life and Death” throws down a gauntlet that the historical narrative of “North Berwick Witch Trials” picks up with an even more earworming hook, and it seems like by the time the band are into “Upon Azrael’s Wings” and deceptively melodic “Corpsecycle,” sprinkling samples here and there amid chorus after memorable chorus, it kind of just feels like the band are showing off. And gloriously. I know the narrative of Cathedral is very much wrapped up in the deathly ways of the debut and all that, but seriously, I defy you to read this sentence, listen to “North Berwick Witch Trials” or “Corpsecycle” — your pick — and not nod along approvingly. I’ll tell you right now it won’t happen.

And the sound only expands as Cathedral move through the interlude “Fields of Zagara” through the speedy, careening “Oro the Manslayer” — boasting some highlight work from Jennings and Smee alike in a building instrumental section in the second half before shifting back to the verse and chorus — and into “Beneath a Funeral Sun,” the bizarre-seeming turns of which act as a preface to “The Garden,” which is a record-unto-itself smorgasbord of progressive doom construction.

The song clocks in at 26:59 and announces its arrival with a drum thud emerging from sparse but swelling noise, and subsequently tells a story of apocalyptic vision through nine parts, some of which have sub-movements. There are more strings, mellotron, guest vocals, acoustic stretches — and that’s the first two minutes — and an unabashed conceptual weirdness that almost 15 years after the fact still comes across as equal parts brazen and ambitious.

It’s a lot to take in — hence the comment above about digestibility of splitting it up — but even through it all, there’s a chorus, and as far off as the song goes, that chorus comes back in striking fashion in later reaches. It is gleeful in its weirdness, manifesting in every bit the spirit of the Dave Patchett full-poster foldout cover art adorning the album in all its nuance and complexity. “Proga-Europa,” a minute-long semi-hidden track that emerges after a few minutes of silence to close out the record in boogie fashion, is about the only way they could have possibly backed it up.

It would be five years before Cathedral issued a follow-up to The Garden of Unearthly Delights in 2010’s The Guessing Game (review here), and that record shifted to incorporate many of the more progressive elements of “The Garden” into some of its own tracks, and pulled it off, but there seemed to be competing impulses at work. The next year, they marked 20 years since their debut with Anniversary (review here) on Dorrian‘s own Rise Above Records, and the same label would also stand behind Cathedral‘s final album, 2013’s The Last Spire (review here), which brought an end to the band’s arc by returning to the darkened grit of their earliest work but still retaining the lessons in craft the intervening years had taught. As ever, they did it on their own terms.

That’s very much how I look at The Garden of Unearthly Delights as well: the output of a band refusing to compromise on what they wanted to be and what they wanted to do. Even aside from the basic appeal of its initial salvo or the breadth of its semi-title-track, the scope and craft the band showcase throughout what, again, was their eighth long-player — long after most groups would have settled into a pattern of repetition or at least a basic aesthetic formula; a “sound,” to be more kind — remains deeply admirable. It is a reminder that any creative work is only worth pursuing over a longer term if it continues to grow and fascinate the artist or artists behind it.

Plus, riffs.

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

—

Most of the week was a blur, but I guess that’s not necessarily bad? It was The Patient Mrs.’ birthday on Wednesday, so my family came over for dinner. We’re doing a bigger thing on Sunday with her mother and sister coming down from Connecticut to spend the day and my family will be over again and so on. It’ll be good times, hopefully somewhat low-key, but probably not. Whatever. We’ve done this kind of thing enough at this point with this crowd that it’s pretty standard operating procedure. That, in itself, is kind of nice.

Living in New Jersey, having moved back, is not without its complications. There are all kinds of things we want to do to update this house and make it more livable that we can’t because we’re not actually on the deed — because paperwork, and family, and money, and lawyers — but I don’t regret being here.

Today at 5PM Eastern is a new episode of The Obelisk Show on Gimme Radio. You’ve already seen the playlist, but it’s all C.O.C. in honor of Reed Mullin and I talk a bit on there about his impact on the band’s sound. I don’t really have any insights to offer, dude was just a great drummer and brought a lot to the band, so I thought the music was worth celebrating in its various eras and incarnations. You could do a hell of a lot worse than listen to two hours of Corrosion of Conformity, as far as I’m concerned. Despite the circumstances, that’s pretty much a gift to any day.

Listen on their app or at http://gimmeradio.com.

And thanks.

Next week is about half-planned. I don’t know. Do you really care? It’s gonna be rock and roll. I’ve been reviewing a lot of psych records lately — kind of where my head is at, honestly — but I think I’m going to try to tackle the Dool album on Monday for a change of pace and to give myself a bit of a challenge. That’s a good record, so it’ll be fun too to write about, but something a little different from all the melting-brain, lysergic whatnot. In the spirit of Cathedral above, gotta keep it interesting.

There are announcements and streams and this and that booked too for Tuesday, Thursday, Friday. Wednesday’s open now but something will either come along or I’ll find something to put there. Maybe I’ll go see Torche and maybe not. I haven’t really decided, which means probably not, but it would be nice to get out. I didn’t go see Church of Misery this week. Just too much. Plus, is murder really all that cool? I remain torn when it comes to that band, but in any case, I’ve seen them plenty and I wasn’t hurting for stuff to write about.

I guess I’ll leave it there since The Pecan is up — it’s after 6:30, so that’s no surprise — and needs to be retrieved before he tears down the drywall in his bedroom. Because he might. Because he’s two. So yeah.

Great and safe weekend, whatever you’re up to. Please check out forum, radio and merch at MiBK. The ol’ FRM.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

The Obelisk merch

We meet again! The second week of this amply-proportioned Quarterly Review begins today as we move ever closer toward the inevitable 100-album finish line on Friday. There is an incredible amount of music to get through this week, so I don’t want to delay for too long, but as we look out across the vast stretch of distortion to come, I need to say thank you for reading, and I hope that you’ve been able to find something that’s kicking your ass a little bit in all the right ways so far. If not, well, there are 50 more records on the way for you to give it another shot.

Here goes.

Quarterly Review #51-60:

Thou, Magus

How can something be so raw and forward thinking at the same time? Baton Rouge’s Thou might be the band of their generation who’ve added the most to sludge in terms of pushing the style in new directions and shaping genre to their purposes. Magus (on Sacred Bones), their fourth or fifth full-length depending on whom you ask, is an overwhelming 75-minute 2LP of inward and outward destructive force, as heavy in its ambience as in its weight and throat-ripping sonic extremity, and yet somehow is restrained. To listen to the march of “Transcending Dualities,” there’s such a sense of seething happening beneath the surface of that chugging, marching riff, and after its creeping introduction, “In the Kingdom of Meaning” seems intent on beating its own rhythm, as in, with fists, and even a stop-by from frequent guest vocalist Emily McWilliams does little to detract from that impression. Along with Magus, which rightly finishes with the lurching threat of “Supremacy,” Thou have released three EPs and a split this year, so their pace runs in something of a contrast to their tempos, but whether you can keep up or not, Thou continue to press forward in crafting pivotal, essential brutalizations.

Thou website

Sacred Bones Records website

—

 

Liquid Visions, Hypnotized

Sulatron Records‘ pressing of Liquid Visions‘ 2002 debut, Hypnotized, is, of course, a reissue, but also the first time the album has been on vinyl, and it’s not long into opener “State of Mind” or the grunge-gone-classic-psych “Waste” before they earn the platter. Members of the band would go on to participate in acts like Zone Six, Wedge, Electric Moon and Johnson Noise, so it’s easy enough to understand how the band ties into the family tree of underground heavy psych in Berlin, but listening to the glorious mellow-unfolding-into-noise-wash-freakout of 15-minute closer “Paralyzed,” the appeal is less about academics than what the five-piece of vocalists/guitarists H.P. Ringholz (also e-sitar) and Kiryk Drewinski (also organ), bassist Dave “Sula Bassana” Schmidt (also Fender Rhodes and Mellotron), drummer Chris Schwartzkinsky and thereminist Katja Wolff were able to conjure in terms of being both ahead of their time and behind it. As the album moves from its opening shorter tracks to the longer and more expansive later material, it shows its original CD-era linearity, but if an LP reissue is what it takes to get Hypnotized out there again, so be it. I doubt many who hear it will complain.

Liquid Visions on Thee Facebooks

Sulatron Records webstore

—

 

Benthic Realm, We Will Not Bow

The second short release from Benthic Realm behind a 2017 self-titled EP (review here) finds the Massachusetts-based trio of guitarist/vocalist Krista van Guilder (ex-Second Grave, ex-Warhorse), bassist Maureen Murphy (ex-Second Grave) and drummer Dan Blomquist (also Conclave) working toward a refined approach bridging the divide between doom and darker, harder hitting metal. They do this with marked fluidity, van Guilder shifting smoothly between melodic clean singing and harsher screams as Murphy and Blomquist demonstrate like-minded ease in turns of pace and aggression. The penultimate semi-title-track “I Will Not Bow” is an instrumental, but “Save us All,” “Thousand Day Rain” and closer “Untethered” — the latter with some Slayer ping ride and ensuing double-kick gallop — demonstrate the riff-based songwriting that carries Benthic Realm through their stylistic swath and ultimately ties their ideas together. If they think they might be ready for a debut full-length, they certainly sound that way.

Benthic Realm on Thee Facebooks

Benthic Realm website

—

 

Ape Machine, Darker Seas

Maybe Ape Machine need to make a video with cats playing their instruments or something, but five albums deep, the Portland outfit seem to be viciously underrated. Releasing Darker Seas on Ripple, they take on a more progressive approach with songs like “Piper’s Rats” donning harmonized vocals and more complex interplay with guitar. It’s a more atmospheric take overall — consider the acoustic/electric beginning of “Watch What You Say” and it’s semi-nod to seafaring Mastodon, the likewise-unplugged and self-awarely medieval “Nocturne in D Flat (The Jester)” and the rocking presentation of what’s otherwise fist-pumping NWOBHM on “Bend Your Knee” — but Ape Machine have always been a band with songwriting at their center, and even as they move into the best performances of their career, hitting a point of quality that even producer Steve Hanford (Poison Idea) decided to join them after the recording as their new drummer, there’s no dip in the quality of their work. I don’t know what it might take to get them the attention they deserve — though a cat video would no doubt help — but if Darker Seas underscores anything, it’s that they deserve it.

Ape Machine on Thee Facebooks

Ripple Music on Bandcamp

—

 

Under, Stop Being Naive

Stockport, UK, three-piece Under bring a progressive edge to their pummel with their second album, Stop Being Naive (on APF), beginning with the deceptively thoughtful arrangement of crushing opener and longest track (immediate points) “Malcontent,” which unfurls a barrage of riffs and varied vocals contributed by guitarist Simon Mayo, bassist Matt Franklin and drummer/keyboardist Andy Preece. Later cuts like “Soup” and “Grave Diggers” tap into amorphous layers of extremity, and “Happy” punks out with such tones as to remind of the filth that became grindcore in the UK nearly 40 years ago, but while “Big Joke” rolls out with a sneer and closer “Circadian Driftwood” has a more angular foundation, there’s an overarching personality that comes through Under‘s material that feels misanthropic and critical in a way perhaps best summarized by the record’s title. Stop Being Naive is sound enough advice, and it comes presented with a fervent argument in its own favor.

Under on Thee Facebooks

APF Records webstore

—

 

Evil Triplet, Have a Nice Trip

Trimming the runtime of their 2017 debut, Otherworld (review here) nearly in half, Austin weirdo rockers Evil Triplet present the six-song/38-minute single LP Have a Nice Trip on Super Secret with classic garage buzz tone on “A Day Like Any Other,” a cosmic impulse meeting indie sneer on opener “Space Kitten” and a suitably righteous stretch-out on “Aren’t You Experienced?” — which is just side A of the thing. The pulsating “Open Heart” might be the highlight for its Hawkwindian drive and momentary drift, but “Pyramid Eye”‘s blown-out freakery isn’t to be devalued, and the eight-minute capper “Apparition” is dead on from the start of its slower march through the end of its hook-topped jam, reminding of the purpose behind all the sprawl and on-their-own-wavelength vibes. A tighter presentation suits Evil Triplet and lets their songs shine through while still highlighting the breadth of their style and its unabashed adventurousness. May they continue to grow strange and terrify any and all squares they might encounter.

Evil Triplet on Thee Facebooks

Super Secret Records website

—

 

Vestjysk Ørken, Cosmic Desert Fuzz

To a certain extent, what you see is what you get on Vestjysk Ørken‘s debut EP, Cosmic Desert Fuzz. At very least, the Danish trio’s three-tracker first outing is aptly-named, and guitarist/vocalist Bo Sejer, bassist Søren Middelkoop Nielsen and drummer Thomas Bonde Sørensen indeed tap into space, sand and tone on the release, but each song also has a definite theme derived from cinema. To wit, “Dune” (11:41) samples Dune, “…Of the Dead” (9:13) taps into the landmark George Romero horror franchise, and “Solaris” (14:15) draws from the 1972 film of the same name. The spaciousness and hypnotic reach of the latter has an appeal all its own in its extended and subtle build, but all three songs not only pay homage to these movies but seem to work at capturing some aspect of their atmosphere. Vestjysk Ørken aren’t quite rewriting soundtracks, but they’re definitely in conversation with the works cited, and with an entire universe of cinema to explore, there are accordingly no limits as to where they might go. Something tells me it won’t be long before we find out how deep their obsession runs.

Vestjysk Ørken on Instagram

Vestjysk Ørken on Bandcamp

—

 

Dawn of Winter, Pray for Doom

I have no interest in playing arbiter to what’s “true” in doom metal or anything else, and neither am I qualified to do so. Instead, I’ll just note that Germany’s Dawn of Winter, who trace their roots back nearly 30 years and have released full-lengths on a one-per-decade basis in 1998, 2008 and now 2018 with Pray for Doom, have their house well in order when it comes to conveying the classic tenets of the genre. Issued through I Hate, the eight-track/51-minute offering finds drummer Dennis Schediwy punctuating huge nodder grooves led by Jörg M. Knittel‘s riffs, while bassist Joachim Schmalzried adds low end accentuation and frontman Gerrit P. Mutz furthers the spirit of traditionalism on vocals. Songs like “The Thirteenth of November” and the stomping “The Sweet Taste of Ruin” are timeless for being born too late, and in the spirit of Europe’s finest trad doom, Dawn of Winter evoke familiar aspects without directly worshiping Black Sabbath or any of their other aesthetic forebears. Pray for Doom is doom, because doom, by doomers, for doomers. The converted will be accordingly thrilled to hear them preach.

Dawn of Winter on Thee Facebooks

I Hate Records website

—

 

Pale Heart, Jungeland

Semi-retroist Southern heavy blues boogie, some tight flourish of psychedelia, and the occasional foray into broader territory, Stuttgart three-piece Pale Heart‘s StoneFree debut long-player, Junegleland is striking in its professionalism and, where some bands might sacrifice audio fidelity at the altar of touching on a heavy ’70s aesthetic, guitarist/vocalist Marc Bauer, key-specialist Nico Bauer and drummer Sebastian Neumeier (since replaced by Marvin Schaber) present their work in crisp fashion, letting the construction of the songs instead define the classicism of their influence. Low end is filled out by Moog where bass might otherwise be, and in combination with Hammond and Fender Rhodes and other synth, there’s nothing as regard missing frequencies coming from Jungleland, the nine songs of which vary in their character but are universally directed toward honing a modern take on classic heavy, informed as it is by Southern rock, hard blues and the tonal warmth of yore. A 50-minute debut is no minor ask of one’s audience in an age of fickle Bandcamp attentions, but cuts like the 12-minute “Transcendence” have a patience and character that’s entrancing without trickery of effects.

Pale Heart on Thee Facebooks

StoneFree Records website

—

 

Slowbro, Nothings

UK instrumentalist three-piece Slowbro‘s full-length debut, Nothings, brings forth eight tracks and 51 minutes of heavy-ended sludge rock notable for the band’s use of dueling eight-string guitars instead of the standard guitar/bass setup. How on earth does something like that happen? I don’t know. Maybe Sam Poole turned to James Phythian one day and was like, “Hey, I got two eight-string guitars. So, band?” and then a band happened. Zeke Martin — and kudos to him on not being intimidated by all those strings — rounds out on drums and together the trio embark on cuts like “Sexlexia” (a very sexy learning disability, indeed) and “Broslower,” which indeed chugs out at a considerably glacial pace, and “Fire, Fire & Fire,” which moves from noise rock to stonerly swing with the kind of aplomb that can only be conjured by those who don’t give a shit about style barriers. It’s got its ups and downs, but as Nothings — the title-track of which quickly cuts to silence and stays there until a final crash — rounds out with “Pisscat” and the eight-strings go ever so slightly post-rock, it’s hard not to appreciate the willful display of fuckall as it happens. It’s a peculiar kind of charm that makes it both charming and peculiar.

Slowbro on Thee Facebooks

Creature Lab Records website

—

 

Cathedral, Forest of Equilibrium (1991)

As lauded as they were during their time — from their stint touring with Black Sabbath in the ’90s to impact at MTV, influence on doom in and out of their native UK, etc. — I still think that for the actual quality of the work they did, Cathedral are underrated. While much of their legacy would be set on subsequent offerings like 1993’s The Ethereal Mirror (reissue review here) and 1995’s The Carnival Bizarre, paying a much-needed revisit to their 1991 Earache Records debut, Forest of Equilibrium (reissue review here) only demonstrates the powerful nature of the band from their very beginnings.

I don’t think the story needs to be recounted here of vocalist Lee Dorrian growing weary of punk following his time in Napalm Death and finding himself in the company of guitarist Gaz Jennings to found Cathedral and move in a decidedly different, more Sabbath-influenced direction. On Forest of Equilibrium, the lineup would be Dorrian, Jennings, guitarist Adam Lehan, bassist Mark Griffiths and drummer Mike Smail (Dream Death), and with additional flourish of keyboard and flute, they’d run through a CD-era-runtime set of seven songs and 54 minutes of raw but deceptively complex, grueling doom that, even 27 years later, remains striking in both how ahead of its time it was is arriving, how progressive the underpinnings of Cathedral‘s sound were even at that point, and how assured they seemed to be of what they were doing even as they flew in the face of trend in both punk and metal.

Cathedral didn’t invent modern doom by any stretch. Trouble had been around for more than a decade by the time Forest of Equilibrium came out, and others like Saint Vitus, Pentagram and Candlemass had been lumbering the earth for some time as well. But they did represent a different, more loyalist aspect of the generation up and coming in England at the time. Consider what Cathedral did with songs like “A Funeral Request,” “Comiserating the Celebration” and “Ebony Tears” in terms of concurrent groups like Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride and Pagan Angel, who’d later become Anathema. While not emotionless and not without its own sense of drama at times — looking at you, “Reaching Happiness, Touching Pain” — Cathedral‘s songs took from punk a sense of bare scathe, and their material was less about theatrics and drama than it was about the basic impact of their plod and wretched atmospheres. As the intro “Picture of Beauty and Innocence” leads into “Comiserating the Celebration” (the title of which just screams grindcore in its alliterative construction), Cathedral were very clearly on their own wavelength separate from the emerging death-doom movement. Throughout their career, they would never quite fit in. Forest of Equilibrium was the crucial beginning point of that.

The band seemed to know it. Not necessarily that they’d go on to release 10 LPs and have one of doom’s most storied tenures before calling it quits after 2013’s The Last Spire (review here), but just that they were right to be so firm in their sonic convictions. Even in its faster moments — the centerpiece “Soul Sacrifice” or in the later reaches of “A Funeral Request” — Forest of Equilibrium maintains its viscous tonality and ambience, and Dorrian‘s harsh, morose vocal approach only adds to the way in which the riffs of the chugging “Serpent Eve” and the nod-ready dual-guitar-highlight semi-title-track “Equilibrium” seem to ooze from the speakers even these many years later. It would be rare for a band making their debut to be so confident in what they were doing in any case, but to have Cathedral emerge from the UK’s primordial doom soup as cohesive in their purposes as they were continues to be striking. Plenty of acts talk about going against the grain. Far fewer have lived out that particular cliche and stood as tall in doing so as Cathedral.

Not only that, but listen to the acoustics and flute at the outset in “Pictures of Beauty and Innocence” as they foreshadow the flute and keys to be included as “Reaching Happiness, Touching Pain” rounds out, and you begin to realize just how little of Forest of Equilibrium was an accident, and that, however much its primary statement is made with excruciating tempos and/or a take on doom informed in part by what was happening in extreme metal at the time, there was also so much more behind the band’s approach as a whole. That’s easier to read in hindsight than it would’ve been at the time, but even so, it is one more element at play that makes the first Cathedral long-player one of the boldest doom releases certainly of the 1990s, if not ever. They knew what they were doing, they knew how they wanted to do it, and they were brazen enough to make it expansive as well as loaded with sonic grit. It would be improper to consider that anything less than a triumph of sound and aesthetic.

Of course, Cathedral‘s career would be marked with several of those along the way, but Forest of Equilibrium holds a special place as the first of them, and while they’d develop through phases more indebted to heavy rock and a kind of middle-ground traditionalism before 2010’s The Guessing Game (review here) made their most progressive statement and the aforementioned 2013 swansong found them coming full circle in a return to darker fare, their position as stylistic forerunners never wavered, and in their latter material or their earliest work, they’re defined ultimately by the same relentless creative drive, and yeah, as much praise as they’ve gotten over the decades, that’s still underappreciated.

I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

So uh, this week was the Quarterly Review. Did you notice? It seemed like it was pretty quiet. A few of the bands shared links and whatnot, and that’s always appreciated, but by and large it was kind of a muted response. Fair enough, I guess, but I still hope you managed to find something you dug in that batch of 50 records. I found a few, to be sure.

I guess the week was up and down in general, though. “Iron” Al Morris fucking died. “Fast” Eddie Clarke fucking died. A new YOB record was announced. I got to premiere a video from The Obsessed. So yeah, lows and highs. I end the week today with a trip to the dentist to follow-up on the root canal I had a couple weeks ago and a couple festival writeups, so yeah, even that: hits and misses.

Next week The Patient Mrs. goes back to work. The semester is starting up, classes start Wednesday and she’s teaching Wednesday night. Her schedule means that I’m home with The Pecan for stretches at least on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about it — not the least because the kid still won’t take a bottle from me. We’ve been through like five different brands at this point and he just wants no part of it. Before he came along, I was nervous about changing diapers. I’d never really done it before. Hell. I’ll change diapers all fucking day. I don’t care. You wanna rocket-ass poop all over the place? Whatever Pecan, I can clean it up. But a miserable kid who’s hungry and over-tired and screams inconsolably when you try to feed him? Yeah, that’s way rougher. Shit everywhere if you want, but save me from that fucking bottle.

We’ll see how it goes.

In the meantime, my food issues continue. I have an appointment Monday afternoon with a nutritionist whose position, I expect, will be something along the lines of, “Um, eating disorders are bad, m’kay?” and for that I will have driven probably an hour each way because that’s how long it takes to get just about anywhere from where I live. I’ve had one meal so far in 2018 (actually since Xmas) not comprised of protein powder. It was garlicky cloud bread with pesto. I think on the 8th? Somewhere around there. The Patient Mrs. also made me low-carb scones that I inexplicably gained four pounds from eating and haven’t been able to get rid of since. The rest is shakes, coffee and fake peanut butter, though even the fake peanut butter now seems like too much food to me and I don’t eat it every day. I’d just about take a human life if the tradeoff was a guarantee I could have a cheeseburger and not put on three pounds from it. I don’t even need a bun.

You don’t give a fuck. Save it for your therapist. Get back to the riffs, bro. Riffs. Fair enough.

Here’s what’s in the notes for next week:

Mon.: Somali Yacht Club review/track premiere.
Tue.: Wolftooth review/track premiere; Ozone Mama track-by-track/full-album stream.
Wed.: Clamfight review/full-album stream.
Thu.: Manthrass track premiere/review.
Fri. Six Dumb Questions with Atala.

All subject to change, addition, subtraction, etc., but that’s the plan. It’s a considerable amount of stuff for what’s a busy week otherwise, but hell, I did 50 reviews this week, have a two-month-old baby kicking around the house and basically starve myself as much as I possibly can and still manage to live through the day. Ain’t nothing that hard. The track premieres will get done. Ha.

I hope you have a great and safe weekend. I’m going to sleep late tomorrow, which is a thing I’m very much looking forward to doing, and then some family is coming up from CT on Sunday into Monday, which I also expect will be enjoyable. Beyond that, maybe some reading, new Star Trek on Sunday night, protein shakes and coffee. Good times will be had, no doubt.

Thanks for reading. Please check out the forum and the radio stream.

The Obelisk Forum

The Obelisk Radio

A quarter century after its initial release and two years after Cathedral‘s final album, The Last Spire (review here), came out, their In Memoriam demo will be reissued by Rise Above Records. One can hardly imagine the band had any idea of the legacy they were starting when they named their first offering in memory of something already passed away, but the irony of the title notwithstanding, In Memoriam is a landmark document in the history of doom from a time when its practitioners were still few and far between. The reissue, which is out June 16, comes with a live set from 1991 and a bonus DVD for those who’d like to extend their studies.

The PR wire has it like this:

CATHEDRAL “In Memoriam”

As with a choice few truly great bands, the first self-financed cassette recording by Cathedral – made available in October 1990 – was a pioneering underground masterpiece in its own right; the sound of a young band exploring its newfound chemistry, finding confident variations on a flawless list of influences and cultivating a sound and style that would prove hugely inspirational throughout the 1990s and beyond, being a major influence on everyone from Electric Wizard through to Reverend Bizarre.

Where most demos are little more than a dry run for the first album, ‘In Memoriam’ still has its own distinct and important identity in the Cathedral canon. The debut LP that followed, ‘Forest Of Equilibrium’, has a sombre, devout, melodic and mystical grandeur all of its own – but ‘In Memoriam’ has a far murkier, earthier, more deathly intent. Creepy, cryptic and bowel-looseningly heavy, it represents the first time that the doom metal stylings of Trouble, Saint Vitus, Pentagram and Witchfinder General had been rendered in a new, more extreme metallic form.

At the beginning of the new decade, it was really only Cathedral who were proud to assert the influence of true doom metal – a perennially unfashionable genre, but especially in a turn-of-the-decade metal scene so obsessed with speed, technicality, brutality and modernity.

*Highly influential cult Doom Metal debut recording by the UK masters, Cathedral.
*CD edition comes with bonus DVD, featuring a rare live performance from 1991. Also includes booklet with extensive notes and rare photo’s.
*Vinyl edition comes as a double 180gm LP set in gatefold sleeve and full sized 8-page booklet.

Demo 1990
Mourning of a New Day
All Your Sins
Ebony Tears
March
Live Holland/Belgium 1991
Intro/Comiserating the Celebration
Ebony Tears
Neophytes For Serpent Eve
All Your Sins
Mourning of a New Day
DVD Live in Groningen (NL) May 1st 1991
Intro/Comiserating the Celebration
Ebony Tears
Neophytes For Serpent Eve
All Your Sins
Mourning of a New Day

https://www.facebook.com/cathedral
http://www.cathedralcoven.com/
http://www.riseaboverecords.com/
https://www.facebook.com/riseaboverecords

Cathedral, “Ebony Tears”

Like a lot of “lost” groups the origins of Rog & Pip are winding and complicated. The duo of Roger Lomas and Philip “Pip” Whitcher trace their origins back to mid-’60s Coventry outfit The Sorrows, which found success not in the UK, but in Italy, and relocated to capitalize on a successful tour. Lomas and Whitcher both wound up leaving The Sorrows and worked with each other in a number of iterations, including Rog & Pip, the bands Renegade and The Zips, before reuniting The Sorrows in the late ’70s. They had anticipated commercial success in working together initially, but no such luck, and their collaboration fizzled, their material faded, and more or less sat waiting for Rise Above Relics to step in and give it its due. Whether or not Rise Above head Lee Dorrian has a personal connection to these songs, I don’t know, but the shared Coventry origin and the fact that Dorrian put together the layout for this new collection, Our Revolution, at least speaks to a general appreciation beyond it’s-heavy-’70s-and-hasn’t-been-reissued-yet novelty. Rog & Pip are joined by various other players throughout the 12 songs/39 minutes of the compilation/reissue, and the sound varies from raw heavy riffers like “Evil Hearted Woman” to the deceptively memorable psychedelic bliss of “It’s a Lonely World” and even some Thin Lizzy-style dual-guitar shenanigans on “Why Do You Treat Me Like That?” and the glammy “My Revolution” and “Why Won’t You Do What I Want?” the latter of which opens the proceedings on a particularly catchy note.

“Why Won’t You Do What I Want?” is a suitable leadoff in that it captures what Rog & Pip really had to offer an audience at their best — quality songwriting and a sounds somewhere between glam’s swaggering showoffery and heavy ’70s swing. It’s an engaging blend, the one having evolved out of the other, and Rog & Pip put it to good use on the opener, offering early Alice Cooper Band-ish grit prior to “My Revolution”‘s guitar-led vocal layering. “Rock with Me” sounds earlier and is more rock and roll at its core, but in the context of the A and B sides at the start, those roots are there, and while Our Revolution might seem front-loaded, there’s strong material front to back. Songs like “Hot Rodder” and the more emotional proto-doom of “Gold” stand out stylistically, as does the aforementioned “It’s a Lonely World,” but even “Doin’ Alright Tonight” has a solid hook, fuzzed-out guitars and a touch of boogie in the groove. It’s not quite as shuffling as “Why Do You Treat Me Like That?” arrives late in the running order and feels like a complement to the opener in more than just the construction of its title, but still, it works for what it is. Closing single “Warlord” stands up to Blue Cheer‘s blown-out sensibility and rounds out Our Revolution as one of the several could-have-been-classics included, a solo ranging into some psychedelic layer work, but never losing sight of the heavy chug at its core. Whatever band they may have been in at the time, Rog & Pip brought some essential elements to their collaboration, and that gives Our Revolution a sense of flow from song to song here.

Read more »

Whatever else you might want to say about Cathedral‘s catalog as it’s developed over the course of their massively influential more than 20-year run, the band has always made the album they wanted to make. Even during the British doom legends’ mid- and late-’90s period of wandering through the stoner rock wilderness — see 1996’s Supernatural Birth Machine and 1998’s Caravan Beyond Redemption — they didn’t wind up there by happenstance. Still, their legacy will always be for morose, stomping, thoroughly British doom, and it’s that side of their approach that their fans have most clamored for over the years. Their last studio outing, 2010’s The Guessing Game (review here), offered two discs of classic prog-influenced songs that asked much of their audience but offered much in return. Where the prior full-length, 2005’s The Garden of Unearthly Delights, had sought to marry some of the rock and doom sides together, The Guessing Game marked the band’s 20th anniversary with a bold and uncompromising progression of their sound. The results were never going to be as heralded as the band’s earliest works on landmark albums like 1991’s Forest of Equilibrium debut (presented in its entirety on the Anniversary live album; review here) or the subsequent offerings The Ethereal Mirror (1993) and The Carnival Bizarre (1995), but again, it was the album Cathedral felt compelled to write, and that was what mattered at the time.

Now Cathedral have called it quits, played their last live show, made their last video and the somewhat cleverly titled The Last Spire (released through Rise Above/Metal Blade) is reportedly to be their final album. One never knows for sure — surely over their time together the band must have amassed suitable fodder for rarities collections, live albums, greatest hits, cover records and so forth — but if it actually is the end of their run, The Last Spire is also the point at which the album Cathedral wants to make meets with the album that fans want to hear. It is an 56-minute victory lap that — far from actually sounding like one — presents eight songs of the dark, dreary doom that has come to be thought of as traditional in no small part because of Cathedral‘s crafting of it. The band’s lineup of vocalist Lee Dorrian, guitarist Gary “Gaz” Jennings, bassist Scott Carlson and drummer Brian Dixon present some progressive moments reminiscent of or at very least nodding toward The Guessing Game — the synth interlude that interrupts the sluggish lumber of “An Observation” comes to mind; David Moore‘s contributions of Hammond, Moog, synth and mellotron aren’t to be understated in establishing The Last Spire‘s murky atmosphere — but in their structure and in their intent, cuts like the early “Pallbearer,” “Cathedral of the Damned” and “Tower of Silence” underline the doomed feel for which Cathedral have become so known both in their home country and abroad. They are Cathedral at their most Cathedral. And rightly so. One couldn’t possibly hope for more of them than that.

The aforementioned trio occur sequentially following the intro “Entrance to Hell,” which finds Dorrian repeating the phrase “Bring out your dead” — which in my mind always goes right back to Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but he sells it well — over suitably plague-addled atmospheres, with “Pallbearer” as the longest track on The Last Spire at 11:39 and marked aside from its strong hook by the backing vocals of Rosalie Cunningham behind Dorrian‘s signature semi-spoken delivery and the chorus of “War, famine, drought, disease” repeated to memorable effect. There’s a mournful acoustic break in the middle, but by and large, Jennings, Carlson and Dixon sound big, thick and threatening, and when the acoustics (backed by organ) give way to the resurgent groove and faster push of the song’s peak movement, the effect is fluid and entirely metal. They end slow and offer a more mid-paced distortion on “Cathedral of the Damned,” which is marked out by the spoken guest vocal by Chris Reifert of Autopsy and the line “Living in the shadow of a damned cathedral,” which may or may not be Dorrian dealing with his own legacy and the prospect of moving on after ending the band. Either way, it’s the riff and the buzzsaw guitar tone that stands out most as the band meet their longest track with the shortest full song (that is, non-interlude or intro), slamming head-on into the chorus as they do with no diminished returns on the subsequent “Tower of Silence,” the pair affirming Cathedral‘s potency on all levels as they round out The Last Spire‘s first half, whether it’s the vocals, Jennings‘ righteous solo, the heavy nod of the bass and drums, or the overarching catchiness of the chorus itself: “A tower of silence/Is waiting for me/Looming before/An astral sea.”

Read more »