Debiutancki materiał brytyjskiego GALLOW GOD to szczery doom metal inspirowany BLACK SABBATH, FALL OF THE IDOLS, ISOLE...
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In a world where physical beauty reigns supreme and the eye always seeks out that which is pleasing and appeasing, we tend to overlook the unfortunate ugly among us. Yes, ugly can be just as beautiful; that which is simply not attractive to the mass milieu is often the most overlooked poem in the notebook.
Music, classical for example, is usually beautiful and enchanting in certain mediums. Then, rare cases as they are, the ugly music among us just takes a rusty buck knife, stained and worn, and carves initials into your skin at a slow, careful pace. You want to scream, but you can’t; the pain isn’t there and you know it should be…it’s just absent. You’re placated and resigned to just let it take over and hope it doesn’t change things too dramatically.
You now have Gallow God.
From the United Kingdom (where else?) comes this foursome of the forlorn, and that’s praise indeed. It’s not a ‘dirty’ sound you’ll get from this EP; rather, it’s akin to being in a tight box and having the wooden sides just press ever slowly into your body, keeping you, even forcing you to submit, and the mood is such that you don’t even mind the impending horror. Sonically sobering, False Mystical Prose is what doom metal was built on, my friends. Sabbath may have started it, but I’m sure even Mister Iommi and crew would have to bow to the younger generation’s take on such funeral dirges. The torch is passed forever and all we can do is simmer in this swelter. If black metal is meant to be cold, then this album is warm and comfortable, yet still uneasy in spots so as not to lull you into total subservience.
When “The Sin and Doom of Godless Men” oozes out of the stereo you’re not quite sure what to feel; you know there’s some presence in the room, yet you’re too into the down-tuned lushness filling your head to care. And this music fills your head, believe me! Not since Warning, Procession or 40 Watt Sun has a current band impressed me so greatly with a brand of doom that just whispers drunkenly in your ear. Vocalist/Guitarist Daniel Tibbals meanders his way through these tracks like a preacher in some back-hills cathedral to a congregation of none; the tone is so mysterious and encompassing that you can’t even believe the tracks end when they do, and these are some lengthy songs. At just under 40-minutes and four tracks, these guys play no games and offer no quarter.
“Summon the Rune Wizard” plants a tattered black flag right in the ground with this one; it’s a slow procession of people wrapped within the devil’s notes so tightly that it amazes me that this is the band’s first effort. The production is warm and loud without being overdone or falling prey to ProTools complacency. This album has so much moodiness that it’s somewhere caught between depression and contentment, an otherwise confusing place to be if not for the musical guide to keep you from completely giving over to one side or the other. It’s just a look inside at the well of emptiness we all have somewhere deep down.
Spend your minute wisely and pick this up. It’s a trip so heavy you can’t even imagine the end until the music just stops.