Friday, February 24, 2017

Vendetta - The 5th (2017)

Undoubtedly a promising second stringer during the Golden Age of German thrashing, Vendetta have sadly not had the best comeback streak among their countrymen, being heavily overshadowed in this last decade much as they were in the 80s, with bands like Kreator and Destruction still soaring fairly high over followings that have been cemented for decades to come, if they can keep on kicking out the same competent continuity. Their latest, creatively titled record The 5th does not do a hell of a lot to cultivate either the catchiness of Brain Damage nor the savage velocity of their debut, but that's not to say it's entirely rubbish, only that the band continues to let a little of that 90s groove/thrash influence inflect upon the dynamic riffing and mildly melodic intensity of their prime, and not to the betterment of the finished product.

There are certainly riffing phrases across the tracks here that recall some of the earlier material, and vocalist Mario Vogel once again tries to do his own spin on the original Vendetta style from decades before he joined the ranks, but in the case of the former, they're just not memorable or quirky at all, and the latter seems a little disheveled and sloppy, unable to really drive home a good chorus, not that the rest of the band have really provided him with much to go on there. The riffs in cuts like "Deadly Sin" exhibit a little of that uplifting thrust that you'd recognize from Brain Damage, Destruction or perhaps the power thrash of Danes Artillery, but too many of the progressions rely on rather boring payoffs that don't catch the ear. The production is rather solid, with a good bite to the rhythm tracks and a nice, over the top atmosphere created when the leads enter the fray, providing for some of the better moments on the albums. But then you layer in those vocals, and the lack of a real money shot riff anywhere in a 3-4 minute track and it's average at best, goofy at worst.

It's nice that the band still maintains a fraction of that adventurous spirit they held in their youth, and for instance the classical guitar interlude "The Search" is quite nice, and you can close your eyes and just imagine if they balance that out with vintage Vendetta or Deathrow-quality heavier material, but while this does in fact set up "The Prophecy", which owns 1-2 of the more agreeable riffs on the whole record (before devolving into some lamentable breaky groove thrash), it's buried too deep in the track list to leave much of an impression. There's also something up with the drum mix here, in particular the snares which popped and hissed out of the mix a little much to distract away from the nice, warm crunch of the guitar tone. The bass guitar also doesn't really stand out to me, curving along behind the other guitars but incapable of really standing forth unless it's hitting up the good old slap and pop sound (near the end of "The Prophecy").. All that said, this is a slight bump up from 2011's Feed the Extermination. You can hear some genuine character attempting to seep through the cracks, but it's just not enough, and combined with the relatively weak cover artwork I just think this is an album that's going to be easily overlooked with so much stiff competition. And rightly so.

Verdict: Indifference [5.5/10]

Friday, February 17, 2017

Witchery - In His Infernal Majesty's Service (2016)

If Witchery had put out much of any value over since the 90s, I might have felt slightly embarrassed to have ignored the existence of this latest album for the last 3-4 months. However, my interest in the band has just waned that much that any and all expectations or excitement over having any sort of relapse back to Restless & Dead era greatness lie smothered in the tombstones that they emerged from on the cover of that masterful, timeless debut. Efforts like Symphony for the Devil or Witchkrieg were mildly entertaining, or at least a couple tracks on each, but they've just failed to hit it out of the park and have thus sunk into near obscurity. Nobody seems to talk about the Swedes these days, being far more interested in the other projects of the band's constituents, and it's hard to argue with that reaction, because while they continue to set up really cool, varied cover aesthetics for each new album that pique my interest, the music contained on these discs has been inconsistent at best. I am sad to say that In His Infernal Majesty's Service doesn't instill confidence that this is a rut they can ever crawl forth from...

Now, let me back that up a step, because we're far, far from a disaster. This is without question a passable album, better than the last two, and possesses a certain rawness of structure to it that occasionally manifest some nostalgia for their earlier albums. The new vocalist Angus Norder has a fairly standard but efficient guttural rasp which, like his earlier predecessor Toxine, tends to bleed into the rhythm guitar but gives the material that same nasty feel as yesteryear. In truth, there were a number of riffs on the album that felt straight from the 1998-1999 playbook, with the caveat that they really aren't all that catchy or distinct if you span back over the catalogs of bands like The Haunted, Raise Hell and this one to compare or contrast. I.H.I.M.S. vomits forth a balance of 80s German and US thrash, ranging from Sodom to S.O.D., tempered with some clear nods to punk and speed metal. The bass tone is nice and springy, the leads are just about right, never too flashy or overextended, and the drums are crashing everywhere and on fire through much of the track list...but when you just lack those central, impressive riffs to hone in on, the rest of the attempt seems rather fruitless.

Tracks like "Nosferatu" aren't shy about their influence, a pretty direct bite on late 80s Slayer, but even then they can't rise up and compete with the original in any way, shape or form, and they seem like pretty safe tributes to the nostalgia of their remaining audience. "The Burning of Salem" does a similar deed for Dark Angel's ruthless athleticism, and I definitely took away an impression that the Swedes were consciously meting out their influences like they were a checklist written in marker on their sleeves, once again distracting me away from a band that was once in its own right pretty goddamn good. So if you just shut your mind off for a dose of unmitigated death/thrash with no aspirations to anything but survival, I think the tunes here are functional enough not to scoff too hard at. However, the elements that made the band so damn fun and memorable in the first place seem a bit exhausted and watered down to the point that in my review run-throughs I kept wanting to skip about half the songs because the Jensen/Corpse riffing choices were so banal and uninspired. Again, I found it a little superior (if less energetic) than Witchkrieg, but only by a slim margin; it's hardly an offensive experience, but another moderate letdown from a group capable of so much more.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]

Friday, February 10, 2017

Deserted Fear - Dead Shores Rising (2017)

Deserted Fear have carved a pretty solid path for themselves on their first two records, and also managed to place their sound into a position which cross-pollinates with several death metal audiences, and should find a warm enough reception with all of them. Not so terribly old school that they're surviving off the aping of a singular band, and not entirely participating in the overabundant trends of early 90s Swedish Left Hand Path/Dismember death or cavernous death, their material is born of a more melodic, hook-laden core and then caked in the heavier aggression via rhythm tone and brute vocals. Certainly they sound like a peppier Bolt Thrower in places, but I think they also have a clear path to the ears of Amon Amarth's considerable fandom, or the Dutch blitz of Asphyx and Hail of Bullets, while cultivating a lot of the more melodic Swedish influence borne off the 90s melodeath explosion (At the Gates, Desultory, Hypocrisy, Dark Tranquillity, etc).

However, they're not flashy or fiddly, reliant heavily on the rhythmic backbone of the meatier guitars and the drums in lockstep. You know where a lot of their riffs are going as soon as you hear them, but they vary up the writing enough that the tunes still feel fresh and leave a moderate impact, provided you aren't averse to the warmer feel the note selections generate. This is hardly an evil sounding death metal record, despite what the skeletons on the cover might otherwise hint at, so it ends up as a more brutal and accessible strain of the style heavily loaded with ceaseless double bass patterns and a really thick and effective tone which operates largely at a mid-pace and then occasionally spurts into a more uplifting, faster tempo like the one that drives the verses of "Open Their Gates". Atmospheric and restrained leads are used to complement the battery beneath them rather than provide vehicles for their performers to show off, and this just adds to the highly structured feel of the Germans' writing, an orderly artillery unit that lays waste in cohesion rather than in spurious, chaotic skirmishes.

It's not without a few flaws. For instance, the bass on the album is fluid and functional, but generally used only as a support for the rhythm guitars, rarely sputtering out a line of interest. Manuel Glatter's vocals do feel somewhat samey after a couple tunes, even though he uses a more abusive and emotional, almost hardcore approach to his gutturals which render them less monotonous than a lot of the band's peers. There are a lot of points to the record where I was headbanging appreciatively in the midst of the experience, but couldn't remember a single lick minutes later, because a lot of the material flows a little too well into its neighbors as well as some of the other bands I mentioned earlier. I felt like, even though it wasn't a far cry from this, the sophomore Kingdom of Worms was a bit more interesting and risky, and even their debut was a bit more crushing, where as this is more safe, solid and dependable from the opener to its close. However, if you like long-time veteran bands like Grave or Unleashed who perform old school death metal with a fair amount of balance to it, not shying from melodies where suitable but also keeping one foot firmly planted in the graveyard dirt, then Dead Shores Rising is worth a listen.

Verdict: Win [7/10]

Friday, February 3, 2017

Warloghe - Lucifer Ascends EP (2017)

Warloghe has long garnered respect as an infrequent, raw, and wholly vile entity on the Finnish black metal circuit, with an unbent and uncaring attitude manifest through raw production and evil composition which could make some Horna records sound like you were sitting by a warm fireplace toasting marshmallows. Womb of Pestilence is probably the better known of their two full-lengths, and going on about 14 years of absence, the group has decided to issue a 7" with material recorded around that period in the earlier oughts, but not previously released. With this and the band's Dark Ages Return compilation last year, it's possible that a lot more interest is being kicked up through the dust of both the band and listeners, so some might look at this as a 'feeler' for what might lurk around the corner...

Lucifer Ascends is pure Warloghe, raw and caustic black metal which is produced with the guitars at a fuzzy distance from the foreground, the drums transformed into a clanging din, the bass lines an unbroken throb of notes that contribute a lot to the music's sense of fell majesty and melancholy. The tempos here shift between desperate, driving moderate blast-beats, prevalent in the titular A-side, to a slower and more glorious warrior march that dominates "In Hunger And Thirst", which I happen to find the stronger of the two tracks, specifically for how those melodic lines drive into these primal, cutting cords steeped in nostalgia for old Darkthrone, Burzum, Horna, and their ilk. Eorl's vocals are just this wretched, unhallowed rasp which is not news for its genre but seems so perfectly sick and slathered in suffering over these riffs, especially where it creates a contrast against a rhythm guitar line that seems more dignified than the vitriol being spewed onto it.

Nothing involved is a revelation of any sort, these songs are roughly comparable but not entirely equal to the content which actually made the cut for the Womb full-length. The audience here is simply going to be that coven of purists which doesn't want excessive distractions that it feels might detract from their experience. Grim, rime-encrusted and shadowy orthodoxy, on vinyl, through a respected imprint in its feel. There are less than 10 minutes of content here, but while that may seem skimpy, it also means that Warloghe don't pad out their performances to the point that they'll become really boring, and while I don't feel that much of the material here is all that impressive or even really that good (the A-side didn't phase me at all), it's more or less exactly what the band's fans will be seeking out and working as intended. If you're seeking out the band for the first time, however, I would set a course straight for Womb of Pestilence and develop any further interest from there.

Verdict: Indifference [6.5/10]

Monday, January 30, 2017

Bullcreek - Osschaert (2017)

Osschaert is a rather simpler sort of death metal record that you won't hear very often these days, being that it doesn't conform too strictly to the dominant trends of the genre nor does it attempt to blow you over with any level of impressive technicality. This is primitive, choppy death loaded with basic hooks that keep you engaged without offering much nuance. I think a lot of listeners will draw some parallels to Amon Amarth, in how some of the riffs convey just the proper balance of glory and force, but I was feeling a real Asphyx or Hail of Bullets vibe for the most part, only with a vocalist more guttural and less distinct than Martin van Drunen. I also felt a few nods to other low-tech death metal bands of the past like Crack Up, Six Feet Under or Hypocrisy, but even more massive sounding.

This is in no small part due to the crushing rhythm guitar tone here, the closest approximation to their Dutch peers that I mentioned earlier, which grants even the most basic chord structure or voluptuous chugging a level of potency and attention-wrestling. They like to thread these meaty riffs with a lot of solos, which sound rather tiny by comparison but help fill another level of atmosphere, whether they spurt out some bluesier bits or structured harmonies wailing off into the night. The riffs can vary from more straight-up flows of melodic chords to slightly more charging, involved palm mute patterns and this creates a nice variation and contrast across the album that kept me absorbed, especially when they also toss in some melancholic, cleaner guitars or storming grooves. Even though the entirety of this debut remains within the bands stylistic portfolio, I feel like they give you enough fulfillment and deviation from predictability that you won't quite guess everything that follows, and so it just paints the record with a fresh coat of excitement, rather than the dull, dry plodding of a Jungle Rot.

Drumming and the low end in general is really tight here, but apart from affecting the mood of the record it's not all that impressive nor does it really stand out from the production of those guitars. As I mentioned, the vocals weren't super unique sounding, but they do their job if you just want no-frills growling which thrives on a lot of sustained lines which hover over the warlike battery and the fat of the rhythm tracks. Songs get fairly catchy but not to the point that I was thinking much about them after a few spins of the whole thing, and there's just a seasoned restraint about Osschaert which feels like they could fly further off the handle if the band wanted to, but they keep it reined in, and I was not all that surprised to find that the lineup was partially from the cult classic Dutch death metal act Burial, whose Relinquished Souls was a record I used to listen to from time to time. Bullcreek is not quite at the level of a Hail of Bullets, my favorite act from this scene performing death metal at this pacing and level of intricacy, but this is a solid enough start.

Verdict: Win [7/10]

Friday, January 27, 2017

Kreator - Gods of Violence (2017)

Gods of Violence reminds me a whole lot of Sodom's latest record in how it tries pretty effectively to be everything for nearly every generation or tier of the band's audience, and it does so with a close approximation of success. Granted, if you're pining for a tip of the hat to Endorama, Outcast, Renewal or Cause for Conflict then you might be largely left out in the cold, but that would at best comprise only a literal handful of listeners on this entire planet, and Kreator would be wise to do so if they want to pump up their base. They also don't delve back into the primacy of their demos or debut. However, if you're interested in hearing an amalgam of their later 80s, involved riffing patterns with the melodic overtures of records like Phantom Antichrist and Violent Revolution, all wrapped up in the accessible thrashing echo chamber of an Enemy of God, then this should fit rather snugly to your interests. Hell, even the TITLE here is drawn from some of those...

Yes, there are a handful of riff progressions here which certainly reflect back upon records like Terrible Certainty, Extreme Aggression and Coma of Souls, but they're all trussed up in an elegant penchant for melody which alleviates some of the sinister evocations of Mille's raving, barking vocals, giving a more uplifting, anthemic feel to even the harshes thrashing. This is actually most prominent in the architecture of the leads, which are generally pretty feel-good to the point that even some of the rhythm guitars backing them shift to a more accessible direction than the verse riffing. There's no question a level of nerdy progressive metal has infiltrated the band's sense for extremity, much like it did on Phantom Antichrist, but one could make a strong case that the band has reached 'peak proficiency' here, since the sheer number of notes and leads flitting around the 11 tracks and 52 minutes seems to exceed anything that has come before it. Bound up in the elegant, slick production values which make it effortless to experience every individual breath or note, Gods of Violence might not live up to its title in terms of the expected brutality, but it's one frenetic record with plenty to take in across a good number of listens.

Personal favorites here included "Army of Storms" and "Lion With Eagle Wings", just for striking that perfect balance of aggression and melody, and in the latter case even providing me with something that felt fresh and new in the Kreator lexicon. And Gods does that quite a lot...for every callback riff there's another here which simply has never existed before in their catalog, and while it's not going to prove very welcome for folks who feel like the band died off or sold out after Pleasure to Kill, I'm not ready to give up on the notion that these veterans have something left to give us as they continue to forge on through another decade. For a band over 30 years into its existence, this material doesn't entirely rest entirely on its laurels, lazily subsisting on nostalgia alone. Rather, it's inspired. Mille still sounds great, and the clarity with which his vocals can adhere to the more melodic guitars behind them is a real stunner. Drumming is efficient, and the bass is fine, but really this is ALL about those intricate, harried guitar lines, and how you feel about that will make or break your experience. So far, the songs don't rank among the most memorable in their canon, and no amount of busyness or proficiency can really make up for that, but Gods of Violence is enjoyable from fore to aft while I wait for whatever they summon up next.

Verdict: Win [8.25/10] (these battles can be won)

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Warpath - Bullets for a Desert Session (2017)

Several years ago I did a sweeping review project covering all the German thrash I could find, partly to track it across the decades as one of my favorite scenes in the subgenre's history. Warpath is a band I was not particularly kind towards, an average at best analog to the 90s wave of American groove metal pundits who contributed greatly to the depreciation of the style, but which managed not to succumb entirely to the lure of nu-metal. They still left on a sour note, even by their standards, with 1996's Kill Your Enemy, but when I saw that they had reformed after 20 years of inactivity and gotten a new deal through Massacre, with several new members, I was curious whether they would be barking up the same tree, or perhaps benefit from all that added experience and listening that the decades might bring to their core style, and while I can't say that they've improved a great deal from their initial run, Bullets for a Desert Session is without question a near equal to their 'better' works.

That's not saying much. Sure. This is still the meaty, straightforward thrash metal you might have remembered them for in the 90s, but perhaps the gulf of time makes it a little more tolerable, or that they've just written material which is slightly more appealing to the ear. When I hear the gruff vocals and creatively deficient riff-set here, I'm reminded a lot of those years when Sacred Reich dropped the ball on their later albums, or perhaps a little Machine Head or Exhorder (bands I'm not terribly fond of). Nuance and variation takes a backseat to chugging and muscle, with a limited array of chords to balance it out, so the only elevation real here comes from a chorus like "I Don't Care", where the guitars slide up a little higher from the palm mutes to provide an almost punk flavor to contrast against the mad dog vocals. If you're just out for a stroll through the mosh pit and jonesing for records like the legendary Speak English or Die from S.O.D., then you're probably the target for a record like this, only it's even slower and more simple in some aspects than you might even expect for baseline testosterone thrash from those Golden Ages.

The mix here is really dense and potent, that I have no issue with. The bass tone is nice and fat, and vocalist Dirk Weiss definitely sounds like he can put back a few pints, with a grating, angry sustain, but beyond production values there was just too little to appeal to me. The formulas employed in the songwriting seem a little too safe, bouncy and dated, with even the gang shouts forecast from a mile away. Within those parameters, though, Warpath still has an ability to come off as slightly catchy and charismatic for such crude, pummeling music. But it's just too easy to pinpoint where a band like this couldn't break through where countrymen like Kreator, Tankard and Destruction excelled...the level of musicianship here is simply child's play by comparison, a couple of chords that don't sound like they took much effort in creating. And, look, that's probably the modus operandi here. These guys wanted to put together some bulldozer metal and bang some heads with a crowd while pitching back some's just unfortunate that so many others do it so much better. Bullets for a Desert Session is a textbook 'loyal to a fault' comeback album. If you were into their older stuff, then it is probably not a terrible listen, but not only has thrash moved on from this dingy period, it was already significantly better even 7-8 years before the band originally dropped their debut.

Verdict: Indifference [5.25/10]

Monday, January 23, 2017

Saqra's Cult - Forgotten Rites (2017)

I was interested in Saqra's Cult for two reasons. Firstly, both of its cultists were also present in a blackened thrash act Maleficence which release an EP last year that I covered. Secondly, and perhaps the more important, this was purportedly a band themed around the Inca Empire. While that might not be a completely novel theme, at least a few Central American bands closer to home having delved into it, I'm not sure I've really heard it implemented in a way that satisfied me as some sort of ethnic, atavistic manifestation of the subject matter into the metal medium. Granted, these guys are from Belgium, but hell, Nile are from the USA and they have well developed their Egyptology into extremity by this point, so I don't really think your entire band has to hail from a particular region or culture to experiment with its history as a musical outlet.

Now, after listening to Forgotten Rites a few time, I'm still not too sure that I've gotten the 'Incan Fix' that I seek. Certainly this album looks beautiful with its gold and dark contrasted artwork, but apart from a few tribal ambient pulses like the intro to opener "Solemn Sacrifice", it's a rather straightforward mid-to-fast paced black metal effort with some tangible death metal elements as well. That's not to say it's not a solid metal album on its own right, but it functions more along the usual tropes. Rhythmic batteries steeped in double bass drumming and speeds that are often quite tame for the genre. A hybrid of growls and snarls which is not uncommon these days in a lot of French and Belgian. A thick and viscous tone to the rhythm guitars which reminds me of bands like Aosoth or Saligia, rather than the airy and tinny aesthetics present in a lot of pure necro black metal. There's also a fat, ruddy bass tone here which works well to anchor the production and keep the record nasty and beating on you; this is most deliberate in "Mesak" but you can feel it throughout

The riffs have just enough of a tear to them in general to remain engaging, though they only rarely bust out a hook or an individual pattern of notes that really makes me want to go for a double take. A lot of the chord progressions are fairly commonplace and predictable, and while executed effortlessly they don't conjure up enough of the cultural mystique or ancient fear that I would have hoped for. It just seems like it needs a few more unique sequences to break up the bulk of its riffing, especially in a longer (10+ minute) track like "Solemn Sacrifice" which just doesn't have enough interesting content to fill itself. To be fair, the rest of the tracks are considerable shorter, but even then there were parts that I didn't feel terribly inspired with. The limit here is that the themes are delivered to you too much through the lyrics and your own imagination, rather than what you actually hear on the disc. That said, it still feels suitably ritualistic and dingy enough to transport you somewhere, to some fallen, shadowy space, and there is firm groundwork here which could be engineered into a more fulfilling escape into the annals of myth and history. One to watch.

Verdict: Win [7/10]

Friday, January 20, 2017

Mosaic - Old Man's Wyntar (2017)

With their first proper full-length in a decade-plus career, Germans Mosaic hit a pretty interesting, atmospheric stride early on and then maintain it through almost the entirety. You've got some almost laid back, lo fi black metal fundamentals here, with a decidedly raw take on production that places it within the margin of what you might expect from a lot of depressive BM. Super tinny sounding drums and lush, cascading walls of tremolo picks chords that rely heavily on melody and melancholy. Yet there's far more tangibly enchanted and naturalistic about how they compose their contrast of swollen metallic sojourns that capture a more naturalist environment which, safe to say, definitely feels a lot like it looks. If you're a bearded old scruff like me who wants to trigger some atavistic tendencies within yourself for the idyllic North European winter that's constantly hovering in your imagination, then this is without question something you might want to check out at least once...

Make no mistake about it, Mosaic can come across as mighty pompous due to the manly ravings and barks that boomerang around the middle and upper atmospheres of the album, with the traditional black metal rasp only erupting over some of the more conventional and purely folksy, atmospheric bits (of which there are many). But the practice gets a pass here, because like I hinted, if you think in terms of that mythic, imaginary, endless season of frosts and moons and winter skies, it is effective in feeling like the vocalist is a pack of wolves panting into the frigid air, or wounded men crying out their last before frostbite claims their extremities or they bleed out into the snow. Add to this the very tribal brand of percussion which dominates a lot of the playtime, where traditional rock beats are dropped for a small set of steadily beaten percussion, and the airy, jangling and icy tones of a lot of the cleaner guitars that ring out above the dying campfires, and you've got an experience which is appreciably transcendental at how it slowly transplants you into that headspace before beating it into you permanently with the blasted, aggressive progressions during the longer tunes.

It's not a very bass-heavy record, but it's there, and the other instrumentation here, like the swells of scintillating synth ambience, ancient percussive clamor, chants and cleaner strings all accumulate in pieces like "Black Glimmer" that wouldn't feel out of place on the more rustic half of the Bindrune Recordings roster. Tunes like "Silent World, Holy Awe", have an almost droning folk structure, with maybe a little Current 93 DNA in there only the less prominent, rougher vocals that you'll hear on the rest of the record. Even though the pure black metal itself seems dwarfed by the other goings on across Old Man's Wyntar, there is still a pretty fair variety of sounds and rhythms to keep the mind engaged, including the vocals which drift between solemnity and biting anger as the riffs transition from a tranquil tribalism to mid-paced, cold floes of chords that envelop you in glacier-space. If your idea of escapism involves building a campfire to ward off the deep evening chills in a snow-heavy, coniferous woodland, and you like taking long, solitary hikes when others around you would rather be cuddled up snug on their futons with the radiators near, then this is one hibernal trip worth taking, even if the band's titular spelling of the season seems like an intentional goof.

Verdict: Win [7.5/10]

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Condenados - The Tree of Death (2017)

The Gothic doom aesthetic summoned forth by The Tree of Death is not one I commonly come across, so it's usually one I do appreciate to some extent upon exposure. At least, I appreciate that it still does exist and that not every genre adherent has fled to the more funereal death/doom scene, or to all out stoner classification, not that there's anything wrong with those niches, but they just don't really speak to my sense of desolation and helplessness quite as much as the more traditional end of the spectrum. Condenados of Chile clearly trace their aural DNA back to the older Sabbath records, but what ultimately manifests throughout this sophomore effort is something akin got a Solitude Aeternus, or to take it a little further, they're like a South American strain of the style that Candlemass made popular throughout the mid to later 80s and beyond. In fact, there are moments on this record which created a real sense of déjà vu for records like Epicus Doomicus Metallicus or Ancient Dreams.

Not because they copy the Swedens note for note, mind you, but the combination of such assured, mournful and monolithic riffs with the clear attempt at a resonant, operatic vocal style by Fernando Vidal drew me straight back to how impressive that was when I first heard that material from overseas and how well it translated Sabbath's blueprints into a staggering new architecture. Now, I'm not saying Vidal has that power, range or perfect control over such a voice that Messiah Marcolin did, and he's ultimately got a more worklike inflection not unlike Robert Lowe, or John Gallo of Blizaro, but he certainly knows his range and gets as ambitious as possible within it. For the most part, it works rather well, and a few harmonized lines help enrich it, but there are admittedly a few points where it falls a bit flat and uneven. That said, some of the riffing here really compensates, simple and plodding but well thought out to create an atmosphere of weeping statues and old cemeteries during autumn. Just the right balance of melody and crushing weight to the rhythm guitars, and the bass tone throughout the album is also thick, fat, and highly effective, whether rounding out the opening of a tune on it's own or supporting the hunchbacked guitar chord patterns.

It's not always the saddest approach to the style, and they do occasionally sway into some more solid, uppity grooves, even going so far as to burst out into a fast almost doom-core part in the waning minutes of one track, which they then convert back into a slower crawl with bluesy Paradise Lost memories sealing its fate. It's great to have a surprise like that once in awhile, and whatever other atmospheric effects or nuances Condenados employ, as in the intro with its church organs and solemn escalation into metal, they do so pretty well. Do I wish there were more than that? Yeah, and a lot of the time the Chileans are just really straightforward...not all riffs here are created equal, and while performed powerfully they'll lapse form the memory ere long. The first track does also feel over-sized without much of interest to fill it out, but this is the exception to the rule Altogether, The Tree of Death is successful at what it sets out to paint...a melancholic mosaic of sinking spirits, an order of monks cowering from the weight of the Divine, and a tombstone lying on a hill beneath the shifting seasons, your name slowly being etched across its surface.

Verdict: Win [7.25/10]