Posted in Bootleg Theater on September 17th, 2013 by JJ Koczan
As a grown man who spends a good portion of his average day in front of a laptop offering overly-wordy opinions about stoner rock bands to a largely unresponsive internet abyss, I like to think of myself as someone who has a healthy sense of the absurd. That being the case, when I come into contact with a video like that for Swedish doom/post-metallers Pyramido‘s new track “År av Onåd,” there’s a certain appeal to seeing a short film of a child in a farm animal costume stealing a band t-shirt from another, all black and white and slow-motion as it is set to the soundtrack of the crushing ambience of the track itself.
I’d almost call “År av Onåd” (the title translating to “Years of Disgrace,” according to the Google; presumably not to be confused with Neurosis‘ Times ofGrace, however cherished and/or driven it may be) a commentary on capitalism but for the fact that it’s the cow robbing the pig and not the other way around, and they finally learn to share, so that can’t be it. Whatever they’re trying to say with the clip, the Malmö five-piece get enough of a point across with their oppressive tonality and barking, abrasive vocals, leaving very little to question as to their musical intent.
Pyramido will release their third album, Saga, on Sept. 27, as the follow-up to 2011’s Salt and 2009’s Sand(they also have a slew of splits out with the likes of Suma, Usurpress, etc.). The video for “År av Onåd” was put together by Ulf Södergren and the band’s own Dan Bengtsson, with color grading by Johan Eklund.
Enjoy, because sometimes we all feel like we spent our childhoods wearing silly barnyard animal costumes. I know I do. Like all the time.
Arriving some three years after their self-released A Dialogue with the Dimensions EP, the second shEver full-length, Rituals, lives up to its name. It doesn’t feel out of line to assume the band’s name is a play on the word “shiver” meant to emphasize that all four members of the Swiss outfit are women, with the odd-capitalization in their logo making the point even clearer, but more interesting to me than their gender is the scope of doom and darkened sludge shEver cover. The first-name-only lineup of drummer Sarah, vocalist Alexandra, bassist/violinist/backing vocalist Nadine and guitarist/backing vocalist Jessica wind their way through a bleak and often dirge-minded atmosphere, but there are looks in the direction of ‘90s-style doom that show up in tracks like “Delirio” to change up the approach, and screams intermingle with cleaner vocals in ambient parts while the band reels before unleashing their next assault. Rituals, which is released through TotalRust Music, is thoroughly doomed despite any variations/deviations that occur in style. Riffs lead the way almost exclusively, backed by Nadine’s thick bass and punctuated by the crash of Sarah’s lowly-mixed cymbals. The album is under-produced. Those cymbals are part of it, but I have a hard time imagining both the bass and drums don’t also come across thicker live, and that Alexandra’s screams, which sound muted here as “Je Suis Née” reaches its nonetheless punishing apex, aren’t fuller in another setting. Still, the rawness helps quitter stretches feel all the more dismal, and for the parts of Rituals where shEver are more directly sludge in their approach, it makes it that much nastier. The six extended tracks of the 50-minute offering are more consistent as well with that line drawn between them.
In case you were wondering exactly what kind of Rituals the band was thinking of when titling the album, opener “Ritual of Chaos” makes it plain, with malevolent whispers and quiet creepy parts trading off with screams, growls and clean backing vocals all at once. It may be that the band is throwing everything out there at once, but if so, it’s effective in conveying the breadth of the album overall. There are few surprises in store afterwards, but the fullness of the atmosphere that “Ritual of Chaos” constructs is affirmed in the other tracks, which are doomed enough to make early Paradise Lost blush and righteous in their heaviness despite whatever already-noted production issues persist. Before the opener is through, shEver have moved from ambient guitars to double-kick drumming, and done so smoothly while also challenging the listener to follow them. A major strength of Rituals is its challenging side, and “Delirio” – which also tops eight minutes – works quickly to enhance it with death growls and vicious higher-pitched screams atop a lumbering riff that persists loud for the first minute before moving into a more ambient incarnation of the same progression; an effective loud/quiet tradeoff and not the last to come. “Delirio” gradually rebuilds its crash and subsides again, once more hitting a satisfying peak as the song comes to a close, Jessica changing up the guitar to subtly add a shot of adrenaline. The following “Je Suis Née” is the shortest track on Rituals at 7:17 and dedicated largely to interpretations built around one riff and one tempo. Needless to say, its plod is substantial as a result, and though by now they’ve well established their pastiche, shEver move into probably their sludgiest territory yet – that riff is a beast and Alexandra’s screams are the stuff of damaged vocal cords. As with a lot of sludge, they run into trouble winding the track down, but when in doubt, drop everything else out and let the guitar ring out into a fade. Works like a charm.
