Temple Premiere Funeral Planet in Full
Posted in audiObelisk on November 24th, 2020 by JJ Koczan
Swedish murk doomers Temple will release their debut full-length, Funeral Planet, through Ozium Records on Friday. One should not be surprised to fine the Gävle-based four-piece of guitarists Jimmy Hedlund and Otto Molin (the latter also vocals), bassist Erik Bergqvist and drummer Marcus Ström emitting massive tonal heft and lumbering groove, as that’s become something of a national pastime for Sweden, but Funeral Planet‘s somehow-still-unassuming seven-track/37-minute run brings atmosphere, tapping influence not only from elephant-in-the-room countrymen in Monolord as evident in the riffs of “Drain” or the sheer heft they trebuchet forth upon the listener in galloping break in second cut “Magma” earlier on — it’s like if the central chug from “Holy Diver” was ultra-weighted doom, and that’s just fine by me — but from the swirling swamp-fog of Windhand as well.
In some ways, that’s two trails leading one through the creepy woods to the distortion-and-groove waterfall that is Electric Wizard circa 2007, but as Monolord and Windhand have spearheaded progression away from that root on their own respective paths, Funeral Planet marks a beginning point for Temple in likewise starting their own exploration of sound and style. Their roll is massive from the outset with “Sea of Grief” as the launchpoint, and it seems only to grow more and more consuming as “Ashes” 
and the birdsong-laced title-track leave little to wonder how Temple feel about the direction in which the planet is headed environmentally. As 2020 has become a choose-your-apocalypse adventure, the immediacy of a global pandemic has usurped some of the press that probably otherwise would’ve gone toward the slower-unfolding but even more terrifying climate disaster — 1.3 million deaths worldwide and counting; my understanding as well is that Temple‘s home country is being hit hard right now, to which I can relate — but just because there’s more than one clusterfuck defining this moment in human existence doesn’t meant that Funeral Planet is any less relevant. If anything, the figure quoted in that last sentence makes the album’s title all the more tragically so.
Still, it seems not to be happenstance that “Changes” is the centerpiece on Funeral Planet, with a speedier tempo than some of what surrounds but still plenty of lurch on offer, since “change” is what it’s all about. Remember when it used to snow? Remember when half the globe wasn’t on fire for half the year? When hurricanes didn’t need multiple alphabets in a single season? If you’re about 20 years old, probably not, but there used to be seasons other than “wet,” “dry,” and “dead.” I won’t profess to know the extent of Temple‘s activism in this regard, but it’s statements and examinations like this that, in part, define our time, as humanity is forced to look around and realize what it’s done to itself. Unless, of course, you refuse to do that, in which case I guess everything’s hunky-dory. Must be nice.
As “Funeral Planet” hits its last crashout and bookended stretch of quiet guitar and birds chirping into a fadeout, the vibe is duly mournful, but Temple are also about more than just the message, and the underlying strength of their debut — because the overlying strength is the tone they use to crush your face into pulp — is their songwriting. Hooks may be obscured by echo and walls-o’-fuzz, but they’re there nonetheless, and deceptively resonant in their after-effect. Put on the record and nod out if you will, but you might be surprised how much the tracks of Funeral Planet keep playing in your mind after they’re done.
You can find out for yourself on the full album stream below.
Please enjoy:
“Listen to the planet and she’ll tell you where she stands.” According to Temple, a fresh doom metal band out of Sweden, it’s not in good stead with humanity. On their début record Funeral Planet, the four conjure a blend of melancholic yet fuzzy doom that sets the perfect ambience. This is not their first rodeo, either – those familiar with Silver Devil and Surfing In Hell will instantly know they are in good hands, but for the rest, it’s time to strap in for a riffing ride.
The message is as important as the music on Funeral Planet – the name alone a powerful social commentary, and the lyrics support this. The constant thread throughout is one of the abuse that Mother Nature has suffered, and the wrath that she will inflict (“She paints the ground with her lava brush”), written with the same pained emotion that frontman Otto Molin wails them. Each song carries a unique perspective, from the man-tames-wild-nature take on “Whipped” to the appeal to reason on “Ashes”. A stunning set of performances.
Temple are:
Otto Molin – Vocals, Guitar
Erik Bergqvist – Bas
Marcus Ström – Drums
Jimmy Hedlund – Guitar
