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The Sleeping Village has been around for a few years now, and during that time, a lot of reviews have unceremoniously disappeared into the dark confines of our archives, destined to never see the light of the front page again. Music appreciation, however, is a timeless affair, and in that spirit, here is a review retrieved from the depths.
Written by: The Voiceless Apparition
34 years?! It's crazy to say that Paradise Lost have been a band for 34 years. The masters of doom and melancholy have been going steady ever since their inception with no break-ups or hiatuses in between. After a brief wait, Paradise Lost return with their 16th opus Obsidian, the follow-up to the masterful Medusa. Said album was a slight return to their original death/doom roots, albeit with a modern context...but enough about the past. Obsidian is split into three different and distinct styles. You have the more death/doom-leaning tracks, the more gothic rock/metal-based tracks, and a subtler bridging between the two styles. It feels like a natural progression from the last album, with many of the trademarks we all love and adore about Paradise Lost, but with many twists and turns along the way. Welcome to the world of Obsidian.
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The Sleeping Village has been around for a few years now, and during that time, a lot of reviews have unceremoniously disappeared into the dark confines of our archives, destined to never see the light of the front page again. Music appreciation doesn't start and end upon release, and in that spirit, here is a review retrieved from the depths.
Written by: The Administrator
To be frank, I approached Four Dimensional Flesh with immense trepidation. Brutal death metal and/or slam aren’t exactly locales I find myself frequenting with any kind of regularity--if I pass through, it’s usually a lone track in the midst of an otherwise innocuous playlist. While the dedication to slammin’ riffs and woodpecker-on-a-hot-tin-roof percussive fills are certainly attractive bedfellows, the trademark drainpipe gutturals and resonance chamber bree-brees really ain’t this scribes cup o’ vox. And yet here we are, plumbing the gurgling pipes with a grim sense of glee. Why? Because Afterbirth strives to make slam interesting. And it is this quality that remains Four Dimensional Flesh’s greatest strength amongst strengths  Written by: The Administrator
On this fine Sabbath Sunday, we inksplattered inhabitants of the Sleeping Village have been dipping our toes in the dangerous and troubled waters of 80’s era Black Sabbath. As one does. In the grand scheme, the general sentiment is that if it ain't Ozzy or Dio, it ain't Sabbath. While I personally tend to find the albums featuring said vocalists the most appealing, we are talking about Iommi, the Rifflord Most High, and as such, there are certainly some diamonds in the rough. Case in point: 1983's Born Again--perhaps the most maligned of the black sabbathian sheep. Is it fair to say I'm disappointed that Born Again was Ian Gillian's only foray with the boys from Birmingham? My rational is that this one-off album, despite repeatedly getting the short end of the stick--often deservedly so-- demonstrates a whole lot of unactualized promise. 
Written by: The Administrator
Despite not having the largest back catalog or most widespread popularity, Wo Fat are one of those rare monolithic bands who deliver with such marked consistency that, as time goes on, their albums seem less like moments in a discography, and more like myths that comprise a greater lore. Their latest LP comprised of new material, 2016's Midnight Cometh, is no outlier. On this no-nonsense affirmation of their core aesthetic, swirling, psychedelic, and pseudo-hypnotic riffage paves the way through a chest-deep swampy ambiance. When I think "stoner," this album rises as a prototypical paragon of the sound and the style. Maybe I'm jaded for thinking it is such a prime exemplar, but so be it. This album simply reeks of smoke. It perpetually sits behind a hazy veil. This is stoner music of the highest order, plain and simple. |
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