I don’t know at what point this retro occult rock movement is going to turn into a silly fad, but I don’t think we’re there yet, which means I can continue to pour candle wax all over myself in the name of this bitchin’ dark art. Sweden’s Year of the Goat is the latest band to delve into the ceremonial castle doom with their debut four-song EP, Lucem Ferre, which tables a slightly cleaner and more melodic psych-rock sound than what you might get from contemporaries like Witchcraft, Ghost, The Devil’s Blood, Dead Man, Graveyard, Blood Ceremony, Asteroid, and others. The EP’s three original songs, “Of Darkness,” “Vermillion Clouds,” and the instrumental “Lucem Ferre,” are powered by Thomas Eriksson’s Buckley-bled voice and a whole cabal of groovy, crimson-tinged riffs likely conjured up in some virgin-killing ritual, while the Sam Gopal (back when Lemmy was at the helm) cover, “Dark Lord,” follows the possessed, fuzzy-cloaked form we’re used to hearing from bands of this breed. Simply put, Lucem Ferre is four songs of ancient awesomeness and I swear it’ll make you want to smoke skull dust, drink from a chalice, and pray for someone’s pagan soul.
Seven Sisters of Sleep Seven Sisters of Sleep
A389 Records/Southern Lord
Belly-squelching full-length debut from California’s Seven Sisters of Sleep, who have one of those amazing band names that offer a dark promise, and in this case that dark promise is a hellish renaissance of doom and gloom. Sure enough, these Sisters deliver, conjuring up a hardcore sludge that contains all the Gothic madness of an Albrecht Dürer woodcutting come to life through walls of black fuzz. Now, the eight songs here only run for about 20 minutes, which ain’t really your conventional method for dispensing doom metal, but then again, this doom metal just happens to be wrapped in a cloak of aggression, so it makes sense. In as much, Seven Sisters of Sleep strikes a chaotic balance; the majority of the riffs toe the brutal line, rolling slow and deadly, while the beat and vocals run rabidly ahead and sniff out the corpses. In some cases (“Tide is Rising,” CCEC,” and “Swamp”) it’s all grind and gnash, the hunting party descending upon you without hesitation, ruining your life.
Listen to “Monasteries” from Seven Sisters of Sleep!
Ufomammut’s fifth album, Eve, is one chilling 45 minute possession separated into five movements, and its affection is wholly and shamelessly UNGODLY. When the music isn’t whispering to you in forked tongues and taunting you with an unnerving drone, it’s driving the heavy, black riff of DOOM right through your frayed soul. It’s a hellish soundscape of caverns and creatures in cloaks, punctuated by crimson spasms of cosmic catastrophe. What I’m getting at here is that this album is the aural equivalent of what would be going through your mind if you sliced open your inner thigh and watched the blood slowly drain out of your body until the darkness enveloped you, and should finally earn these evil Italians their own spot in the amp-worshiping cabal alongside monolithic motherfuckers like OM, Sunn O))), Earth, Boris, and the rest. Unkind stuff, man.
Year of the Goat
Seven Sisters of Sleep
Ufomammut