It takes a special type of talent and showmanship to win the hearts of the unwashed, headbanging masses with a style or substance that isn’t rooted in dual guitar attacks, acerbic or angelic acrobatics of the vocal cords, or dumbfounding drum performances. While those hardly define metal, I’m comfortable claiming that the cello is not a typical metal instrument. While I could attribute the success of cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne within metal solely to his talent and collaboration with notable acts like Leprous, Woods of Ypres, Thrawsunblat and Musk Ox, I also believe there is also something inherent in the cello and its bowed siblings that almost literally tugs at the heartstrings and affects those with a proclivity for the more grandiose styles of music.
The textured and sweeping musical narrative that deft hands can wring from a cello rivals that of the human voice, and allows for an equally broad scope of sound ranging from deep, rhythmic and harsh eruptions to soaring, melodic and harmonious effusions. Aside from range, scope and affectivity, the cello has also been known to RIFF. This has been demonstrated to a broad audience by the rather well-known Apocalyptica, who arguably laid the foundations of the cello’s embassy within the metal metalopolis, but it was Weinroth-Browne who played the whirling, stained glass windows into the empty holes in its walls.
My personal discovery of Weinroth-Browne’s work began not with the ubiquitous Leprous, any of his well-received covers or his solo debut, Worlds Within (2020)—all of which I enjoyed to various degrees—but with the criminally underrated and probably now defunct The Visit. This collaboration between Weinroth Browne and vocalist Heather Sita Black, full of sweeping mood, dark bombast and what I will questionably describe as “angular, proggy cello riffs”, blew my socks off 10 years ago and I have been following Weinroth-Browne ever since, waiting in anticipation for another offering of equal grandeur. This brings us to his sophomore solo album Lifeblood, on which Weinroth-Browne has chosen to assume a more intimate position regarding his personal journey as a musician and his audience, to administer less austere and more immediate compositions than he did on Worlds Within.
The cello obviously plays the role of Lifeblood’s main protagonist, but is tastefully supported by electronic effects and percussion, and also significantly inspired by traditional Arabic maqam compositions, creating a mesmerising musical fusion. The album's opening three tracks set the stage with a decidedly MENA-inspired melodies and cello riffs, underscored by electronic elements. Falling somewhere between the whimsical exploratory tendencies of Yazz Ahmed, and the atmospheric intricacy of Kimmo Pohjonen and the Kronos Quartet’s Uniko (2003). These three tracks work within a similar theme to culminate powerfully in the climax of “Ophidian”, offering a pulsing yet whimsical bounce through an equally trance-and-dance-inducing fata morgana.
As fourth track “Pyre” glides in, temperatures ironically cool towards a more nordic atmosphere, with a gorgeous, mournful and folk-infused piece, before album standout and centerpiece “Labyrinthine” begins gently plucking away at the frost, transporting the listener far away to the land of heartstrings and gooseflesh. This is the closest Weinroth-Browne has come to the magic of The Visit, albeit in a much more galloping and triumphant nature than Through Darkness into Light (2015), that channels the majestic melodies of Icelandic folksters Árstíðir. Its wistful melodies and sprawling sonic vistas defy description, and the track does funny things to time perception, with its nearly 11 minute runtime flying across the bow with spellbinding defiance before coming to a sudden and riffy climax.
“Nethereal” takes a bit of a risk on its long, somewhat ambient-heavy and contemplative build-up, especially after such a show-stopping track to follow, but ends up rewarding the listeners patience with a dark-cello driven whirlwind in the tracks latter half, veering further away from the albums beginnings in maqam influenced territories towards a foreboding finish, while “Winterlight”offers a contemplatively beautiful yet slightly drawn out breather that doesn’t entirely capitalise on its predecessor’s built up momentum. These tracks open up into album closer “The Glimmering”, which greets the listener with a Celtic sounding lilt and plaintive plucking, vaguely resembling Obsequiae in its medieval melodicism. While the albums last three tracks are undoubtedly beautiful, they fail to engage me as much as the thematically distinct first three tracks or the transcendental urgency of “Labyrinthine”, and have a tendency to sprawl into texture and atmosphere more than the album and track lengths can carry.
While not reaching the same heights on the last three tracks, Lifeblood remains a wonderful album that nevertheless holds one of my favorite compositions by Weinroth-Browne and a very engaging first half that shows you don’t need a guitar to riff.