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Doomsday // September 2024

To me, this is the best time of the year to listen to doom and stoner. The chill is in the air, the leaves are turning brown, and there's an overall sensation of things ending

Greetings dear fuzz merchants and welcome back, once more, to Doomsday! To me, this is the best time of the year to listen to doom and stoner. The chill is in the air, the leaves are turning brown, and there's an overall sensation of things ending, their rebirth still far on the chronological horizon. In short, there's melancholy and melancholy is the emotion which fuels doom metal. Ever notice that by the way? We love to talk about heavy, punishing, or slow the genre is but, at the end of the day, what ties together doom (and many of its associated and sub- genres) is a faint feeling of sadness, a sort of slightly morbid introspection that is best associated with the turning days of Fall.

And so, allow us to take you on an exploration of what most tickled our need to gaze longingly into the horizon this month. Or, you know, just stay inside, curled up under the covers. Whichever one strikes your fancy.

-Eden Kupermintz

Anciients - Beyond the Reach of the Sun

I’ll be honest with you - I didn’t enjoy this one when I first heard it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a massive Anciients fan; I’ve listened to their first two albums an embarrassingly high number of times. That’s why, when I heard that they’d undergone a pretty significant lineup, I was both worried and excited. Worried that something about the band that was essential would be gone and excited with the possibility that something new, and equally as good, could rise from the ashes. Maybe I was leaning more towards the latter because the first time I heard Beyond the Reach of the Sun that’s exactly why I was disappointed - it sounded to me like more of the same. And, indeed, when you just get into it, the album seems like another Anciients release, holding high the banner of their mix of stoner, doom, and death metal.

But when you keep listening, and when you keep playing the album in full, it’s clear that this is not true. Plenty on here is familiar; it is still the same band, assuaging that concern at least. But there’s also plenty on here that’s new. First, my main and long standing complaint with the band has been resolved - the song structure is much more varied. In the past, Anciients songs followed a quite familiar formula. But on this release, the band are more willing, and able, to construct things in different ways. This results in a lot more momentum being kept as the album develops. Where before I found myself listening mostly to tracks from the band rather than the full releases, here the journey is more than the sum of its parts. This also leads us into the second main improvement and that is the variety in the tracks themselves, building from those more unique structures and adding into them new sounds and ideas from what we’ve heard from the band before.

Check out the opening track, “Forbidden Sanctuary”, as an example: those synths are much louder than before and have a more “sci-fi” tone to them. Likewise, the more melodic, “dreamier” passages are winding and fully fleshed out, more than just transitions for the heavier segments. And, lastly, the signature clean/harsh vocal combo of Anciients is utilized less as a side by side contrast on choruses (as was the band’s staple before) and more sporadically, leading to a more complex and subtle sort of comparison. All of these ideas and sounds are within the Anciients wheelhouse; this is not a new band. And that’s a good thing, since I love Anciients and how they’ve always sounded. But they do inject new life into these themes and tones, twisting them and reconfiguring them in new ways. If, like me, you were a fan of this band and were looking for something more from them, check out this release and give it the time it needs. On the surface, it’s more of the same, but beneath that lies a new, reinvigorated, curious, and adventurous band that is a joy to rediscover.

-EK

Norna - Norna

Pelagic Records has been a reliable distributor of tasty, sludgy post-metal in their recent years, and the debut full-length from Norna is no exception. The self-titled effort from this Swedish trio has all the hallmarks for listeners looking for something both ruminative and eardrum-tearingly heavy. If you love riffs (here’s where you say “c’mon asshole, who doesn't?”), chances are you’ll find something to enjoy here. Whether or not you’ll be able to hang on for the full ride is another question, because this record strikes an interesting balance. On one hand, it’s quite simple: big groovy riffs get that head nodding. On the other, Norna complements all that lizard brain sludgy goodness with a white-glove treatment that gets the very most out of their ponderous pace, punctuating riffs with distinguishing details and patiently plotting smooth and intuitive transitions.

First off, I love nearly shitting my pants when a record opens as abruptly and heavily as Norna does. “Samsara” gets my attention every. fucking. time. I press play to the point I’ve basically developed a Pavlovian response to that crushing greeting, preparing me to surrender to devastating groove after groove. When they’re not overtly crushing listeners with their grimy-ass riffs (seriously, that tone…), you can expect to be amidst progression that’ll have you back to the neck wrecking before you know it. Norna is the type that lets things simmer from time to time—they certainly know a good riff when they have one—and aren’t shy about werkin’ it.

Take for example “For Fear of Coming,” which features a percussion-driven movement through the middle third of the song, complete with some ominous samples. Or the delicate build of “Shine By Its Own Light,” or the stoner-y march and creepy vocals in “Ghost,” or the staggering and textured “Shadow Works,” or… well… you get the idea. Closer “The Sleep” offers an appropriate climax to the record with possibly their most “active” arrangement, lending a sense of evolution and progression to the sequencing and sending things out with their most anxious and foreboding movements.

So, if the foundation of their sound is these monolithic, lurching grooves, Norna has been more than mindful to build upon this with eerie atmospherics, compatible flourishes, and a relentless attention to detail. With most tracks clocking in at under ten minutes, I wouldn’t quite call this “drone,” yet, that style does nod to Norna’s respectively stripped down style of songwriting. I could very easily imagine these songs getting a bit of a jam treatment in a live setting or hearing a followup where these dudes expand upon these progressions. Still, there’s not a dud riff on here, and they’ve made sure there’s enough intellectual support for these bad boys so they’re not merely shoveling buckets of riff salad.

In some ways, this record plays like Neurosis-lite. This said, your mileage may vary on this due to the almost meditative nature of their songwriting. The riff worship here is very real and could feel a bit lethargic to listeners who require a lot of activity, but there’s no doubt these fellas are dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s on every goddamn detail across this record to keep listeners engaged. Repeat plays will inevitably bring these to the surface, and it translates into something wonderfully cathartic, stimulating, and contemplative, making this a worthy choice for passive or active listening.

-Jordan Jerabek

Föhn - Condescending

At its core, funeral doom can feel like the haunted memory of hymns performed exclusively in gothic cathedrals: massive waves of sound designed to reverberate through unforgiving structures that offered salvation and demanded obedience. Like their holy forebears, funeral doom songs blend emotional melodies with devastating beats to simultaneously evoke hope and elicit fear. They are a harsh warning, a cathartic cry, and a moment of bliss. Ancient and yet utterly of our time. 

Föhn heightens the emotional and sonic obliteration of traditional funeral doom with an avant-garde twist, splicing discordance into their foreboding sound to dizzying effect. Condescending demands complete attention from the opening notes, quickly swallowing the listener into a nightmarish realm of restless spirits and desolate landscapes. Infusing the unpredictability of jazz into crushingly heavy funeral doom, Föhn immediately launch us into a swirl of sound that offers no comforting melody or rhythm, merely unforgiving dissonance cut by echoing saxophones. The chaos gradually shapeshifts into the cavernous rhythms of funeral doom with eerie reluctance. A lingering atmosphere of unease remains like a ghost trapped between realms. 

The ambient aspects of Condescending are often so subtle that they nearly escape notice, but thoughtful listening reveals the true depths of Föhn’s unique brand of funeral doom. A moment of sparse bass creates a feeling of plunging into the depths with the ensuing tidal wave of sound, devastated growls echoing in the distance. The faint sparkle of children’s laughter emerges in the early moments of “A Day After,” lingering like bittersweet memories as soft melodies carry us into mournful, mountainous riffs. Rather than overwhelm with crushingly heavy doom, Föhn punctuate Condescending with carefully constructed reprieves that create space for further emotional depth. Their debut soars, confronts, and soothes with equal grace and devastation.

-Bridget Hughes

Eden Kupermintz

Published 8 days ago