Friday Full-Length: The Wounded Kings, Embrace of the Narrow House
Posted in Bootleg Theater on February 7th, 2020 by JJ KoczanFrom the organ and obscure sample at the start of its three-part opening title-track, there was something different about The Wounded Kings‘ debut album, Embrace of the Narrow House. Arriving in July 2008 through Eichenwald Industries — I was never able to get a full CD copy of the original edition before the pressing sold out; still stings — the seven-track/41-minute initial offering took on atmospheres of cultism in a way that, especially for the time, could only be considered innovative, and embraced a multifaceted approach to the history of British doom that sought not to conform to expectation, but to remake genre boundaries to suit its own purposes. Based in Dartmoor in the UK, begun in 2004 and led by guitarist Steve Mills — who on the first record also played bass, drums and keys and also contributed lyrics and the music alongside the lyrics of vocalist, guitarist and bassist George Birch; they both produced and mixed, while John Macedo mastered — The Wounded Kings would issue five full-lengths total, but Embrace of the Narrow House kept a distinctive place within their catalog, even as they grew beyond it. They were, in the creation of the tonal murk of pieces like “The Hours” and the later “Master of Witches,” or in the attention to ambient detail in the intertwining organ lines of the penultimate interlude “Shroud of Divine Will,” well ahead of their time and what over the next couple years became the cult rock movement, though The Wounded Kings were never a cult rock band. Whatever else they may have been prior to their breakup in 2016, The Wounded Kings were doom, through and through.
Each side of Embrace of the Narrow House begins with its longest track (double points) in “Embrace of the Narrow House” (8:45) and “The Eighth House” (7:23), the second of which, like the opener, is a multi-part affair. In these two cuts, The Wounded Kings unveil a conceptualism that bleeds into the music itself, declaring in no uncertain terms some 12 years ago that they were a band formed with an expressive purpose, and not at all a let’s-get-in-the-studio-and-see-what-comes-out kind of project. Their aesthetic bears that out in the willful slog and ultra-patient unfolding of a song like “Melanthos,” which caps side A with a leading dirge riff and consuming wash of noise that builds over the course of its six minutes. Birch‘s vocals, more samples, and waves of guitar soloing weave together to create a swell in its second half, but it never lets go of its excruciatingly slow pace, never gives in to the adrenaline it seems to be 
charging — a glorious moment of restraint that’s all the more rare on a first LP. The track and the first half of Embrace of the Narrow House cap with a gurgling kind of spoken incantation, but “The Eighth House,” which subdivides as ‘i: Transcendence of Agony, ii. Mistress of Beasts,’ is readily hypnotic and sets up a change of structure on the second half, with “Master of Witches” shorter than its side A counterpart “The Hours” and centered entirely around its main riff, and “Shroud of Divine Will” afterward to lead into the finale “The Private Labyrinth.” It is up to the closer to summarize and resolidify some of the preceding fog, and it does that to the extent Mills and Birch ask it to, but does not prove any more interested in dumbing down or capitulating to audience even as its basks in a so thoroughly doomed moodiness.
This was a balance that Embrace of the Narrow House walked better than most. The next couple years after its release would see the growth of a cult rock movement that the band occasionally got lumped into but were never really a part of. At the same time, their style of grueling riffs recalled some of Electric Wizard‘s most glorious slogs, but refused to have more in common with the Dorset kingpins than that. From the beginning, The Wounded Kings were on their own wavelength, dug into their own niche within the niche within the niche, and they would remain that way for the next eight years. As cultish heavy began to (re-)emerge circa 2010, The Wounded Kings issued their second full-length, The Shadow over Atlantis (review here) and a more or less concurrent split with Virginia’s Cough, An Introduction to the Black Arts (review here). Both releases found the band pushing themselves forward without regard for the tropes of genre taking shape around them. They touched on some of it, of course, but only what they needed to continue to do their own thing. The Cough split was particularly notable for being the first The Wounded Kings release with a full-band lineup around Mills and Birch, though the latter would soon depart and be replaced by Sharie Neyland on 2011’s In the Chapel of the Black Hand (review here). It was both a quick turnaround from Mills and an exciting time for the band, who seemed to have momentum on their side with a quickly building catalog and an already-apparent progressive drive to their sound, but they would continue to be plagued by lineup issues. Neyland, guitarist Alex Kearney and drummer Mike Heath stayed aboard between In the Chapel of the Black Hand and 2014’s Candlelight-released fourth album, Consolamentum (review here), but bassist Alex Eliadis was swapped in for Jim Willumsen, so even there there was some change happening.
Kearney moved to bass as Birch rejoined The Wounded Kings on their last album, 2016’s Visions in Bone (review here), which arrived even after they called it quits. At the time, they were already well undervalued for the distinctive qualities of their work, and that hasn’t much changed in the ensuing four years. As the response to Embrace of the Narrow House had been so fervent, it seemed like listeners had trouble keeping up — the slow churn of their tempos notwithstanding — with the shifts in personnel and sound across their various releases, and the band toured to some extent, having put together a full lineup to do so, but were never really a “road act” whose primary concern was building a listenership. They remained true to their own path in progressive, richly atmospheric and immersive doom. The rest be damned.
Embrace of the Narrow House was reissued in 2011 on vinyl through High Roller Records, on CD in 2012 through Eyes Like Snow and on tape in 2015 through Sarlacc Productions (that’s the version streaming above). Most if not all pressings are sold out.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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I got a prescription for xanax, or at least some generic version thereof — I think it’s called Alakazam or something; as in, “Alakazam! You’re not anxious anymore!” like a birthday party magician — this week. It came in the mail on Wednesday and at The Patient Mrs.’ recommendation I took a whole one and it knocked me out. Quite literally, I fell asleep for three hours. Zonked. So maybe half a pill is enough. That’s what I did yesterday and it seemed about right. Enough to let me think one thought at a time for what feels like the first time in three months and not so much that I’m a zombie trying to chase a two-year-old like, “Hey man, could we stop playing in the oven please? Daddy’s trying to roast some cauliflower, duder.”
So, you know.
But no question in my mind that’s a good thing and needed. I take 40mg of Citalopram a day for depression as well and more often than not that does fine for me. Up days and down days, of course. I don’t anticipate the xanax will be an everyday thing long-term, but for a bit to even me out and in certain situations — like leaving the house; ha — it makes sense at this point.
Wednesday turned out to be a good day for me to be so obliterated as well as I’d spent most of Monday and Tuesday freaking out because I thought I’d forgotten a stream, that my notes were wrong. I knew the week had been full because I’d double-booked and moved something else to accommodate what was there, but then I somehow lost track of what that was, couldn’t remember on Monday morning when I should’ve been setting it up, and was losing my goddamn mind. I never did figure it out, but I got pitched the Seven Planets stream later on Monday, and with nothing else in that spot, I took it. Was there something I forgot? Was I never double-booked? I still don’t know.
What got moved was a premiere for Kungens Män, which’ll be up early, first thing on Monday. Tuesday, a Pale Mare premiere. Wednesday, Shadow Witch LP stream. Thursday, Sleepwulf track premiere. Friday, Sun Blood Stories video premiere. There’s no Gimme Radio show this week, but next Friday (Feb. 14) it moves to the new timeslot at Friday 5PM Eastern. I just turned in the playlist for that and it’s a two-hour tribute to Reed Mullin, so a full two hours of C.O.C. I’ll plug it again next week, but keep an eye out for it.
Also this past Wednesday I met up with Dylan Gonzalez from the Diary of Doom podcast and he interviewed me talking about this site and heavy music and whatnot. That was fun, and I was nervous about it, so the xanax helped, and so did the extra sleep, as the interview went past 9:30PM, well beyond my normal bedtime. Hell, by the time I got home and ate the pizza-place salad I’d picked up en route back for a late dinner, it was nearly 10. More often than not, that’s when I’d be getting up (For the first time; I’m well hydrated) to use the bathroom. Middle of the damn night.
But the interview was cool (I hope) and Dylan was kind to ask me to do it. He’s on Instagram @diaryofdoom and posts cool stuff.
This weekend I’ll be sorting out Weirdo Canyon Dispatch for Roadburn as well as hopefully getting my flights booked for Freak Valley. There’s some trouble booking international whatnot this year, I assume as a result of my country’s fascist lockdown, but either way, it’s hardly convenient, even when you discount the decay of ideology, ego cult, locking immigrants in cages (still happening, btw) and so on.
But The Pecan is getting up and it’s about time I started chasing him around the house the way I do and start the day properly (just after 6AM at writing time). I hope you have a great and safe weekend. Have fun, be kind, watch Star Trek: Picard so they keep making more of it, and thank you as always for reading.
FRM: Forum, Radio, merch at MiBK.
I’m going to be honest with you: I really, really like this album. I’ve gone back to it time and again since hearing it early this year, and doing so has brought me nothing but satisfaction. The Wounded Kings are a bright spot on the UK‘s hope for the doomed future. I felt that way with 2008’s Embrace of the Narrow House, and I feel that way with their I Hate Records debut, The Shadow Over Atlantis.
