Written by: The Voiceless Apparition
Anonymity is a rarity in this world nowadays. Everybody is so preoccupied with getting their voice out there, and to push their products or agenda. Rarely does anybody let their product speak for itself--and this is especially true for music. But here we are. I received the link to this album from Impostrous Lord in the DM's of my Instagram page. I was immediately intrigued due to the members of this band not being listed, desiring instead for the music to, as aforementioned, speak for itself. This is a special review for me, and I'm so happy to have had this sent to me.
This is the debut album from Impostrous Lord, entitled Devil's Veil.
Written by: The Administrator
The brand of doom exemplified by Russia's own Grave Disgrace is monolithic, plain and simple. The original prototype. The standard by which all are judged. In other words...this stuff is pretty blatantly cast from the Black Sabbath mold. It's dark and menacing in the sense of being produced in a time where a mere mention of the occult is enough to send tingles down the spine. It's gothic and ominous in a delightfully indulgent fashion--like unto watching a Vincent Price film during a thunderstorm, the rich atmosphere is oh-so comforting. This is traditional doom in it's purest sense, and while a lot of Sabbath or Candlemass knockoffs inevitably exist out there, I seldom encounter a band that nails the proto stuff so accurately and adequately.
Written by: Adam Paris
This is an album for staring into the ocean, watching the respiring of the sea, until your vision goes out of focus and you are no longer able to tell whether the shapes and shadows you see are a product of you or the waters. It is the kind of immersion in which the self is, for a moment, dissolved into something larger. This is an album that clears space and moves you through it--or moves it around you.
The album opens with 'The Grave Receives You': we feel a storm approaching over vast plains; the cold wind before a hailstorm; and, then: it breaks over us, guitar striking chaotically amid a vortex of drums, creating a dizzying rotary speaker effect.
Yes, yes. The observant reader will note that The Sleeping Village was host to a review of this single many months ago. But today, the occasion is ripe to break the same dastardly write-up out of the ol’ archives. On March 9th, Detroit Doomsters Temple of the Fuzz Witch will be releasing their self-titled debut under Seeing Red Records--and "Bathsheba," the track we previously spoke highly of, serves as the lead single. If you missed it, here's a chance to remedy that mistake.
As a figure of literal biblical proportion, Bathsheba is an admirably complex character. An obvious victim of David the adulterer, Bathsheba was nonetheless a cunning puppet-master who made the best of a bad situation, solidifying immense power for her bloodline. This is all to say that Temple of the Fuzz Witch’s homage to Bathsheba is significantly more black & white than the character herself. Fortunately, nuance isn’t the goal for these riff-worshippers. Like with the fuzzy witch's prior EP, we’re presented the opportunity to revel in some no-nonsense fuzz induced occult gloom, and boy, does this hit the spot.
When we talk Sabbathian influence, Iommi’s thick riffage is usually the topic in question. Here, however, the bass is pure Geezer. Thick, forward-facing, & nearly recalling Dopethrone in its stoic delivery, the bass provides a well constructed foundation for the titular fuzz. The Electric Wizard influence extends to vocals as well, manifesting in filtered, heavy-lidded howls that prowl low in the mix. Like everything else, the vox lacks frills, but it’s an excellent performance to be sure. The soloing around the 4:10 mark is particularly well conceived. Simple but delightfully timeless in its distorted, steadfast delivery.
These are the sounds that made me fall in love with doom in the first place, & the continuation of that god-given tone is truly a delight to behold. A review of Temple of the Fuzz Witch's debut in full shall manifest shortly, but for the time being, we implore you: spend a lil’ precious time with Bathsheba. And get on that $6.66 pre-order.
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry!