Release
date: September 18th 2015. Label: Relapse Records. Format:
CD/DD/Vinyl
Grief's
Infernal Flower – Tracklisting
1.Two
Urns 08:11
2.Forest
Clouds 09:11
3.Crypt
Key 05:39 video
4.Tanngrisnir
05:36
5.Sparrow
04:46
6.Hyperion
05:29
7.Hesperus
14:26
8.Kingfisher
14:19
9.Aition
03:32
Band
Members:
Asechiah
Bogdan - Guitars
Garrett
Morris - Guitars
Dorthia
Cottrell - Vocals
Ryan
Wolfe - Drums
Parker
Chandler - Bass
Review:
Virginia’s
Windhand will be familiar to most within the shadowy realms of the
international Doom scene. Plying their particular trade for around
seven years, they’ve stuck close to the genre’s roots over the
course of their previous two full-length releases (2012’s
self-titled released and 2013’s Soma), and their third studio album
Grief’s Infernal Flower sees their trademark sound polished to
perfection like the handles on a grandiose coffin.
Opener
‘Two Urns’ starts with ambience before a fuzzed out, mammoth of a
riff lumbers in, grinding on like an infernal organ played backwards.
One of the bands’ strengths on this record is nailing down the
quintessential elements of the classic doom riff – tone, groove and
tempo. ‘Two Urns’ swings between driving force and deliberately
paced, before slowing down hard towards the climax, bludgeoning you
with a remorseless, repeated phrase.
‘Forest
Clouds’ begins with a touch of psychedelia – a buzzing, phasing
and reverb drenched riff that is cast aside by a crunchy, swaggering
passage that will have you swaying. Wolfe’s drum work is intuitive
and organic; his cymbals are satisfyingly splashy, and his fills
skilful without drawing too much focus. It’s clear that the quintet
are happy to sit on a single, strong riff for as long as they like,
letting each breathe and grow naturally without forcing too many
shifts on proceedings.
‘Tanngrisnir’
and ‘Hyperion’ act as two excellent summaries for the overall
tone of the album – huge, buzzing lines that instil a sense of
growing disquiet, building feedback, stately, slab-like riffs and
sparkling guitar sorcery. ‘Sparrow’ is just Dorthia Cottrell and
a sombre, frail yet honest acoustic guitar track that really allows
her breathy vocals to come to the fore. Throughout the record, her
voice acts as a hook, something to entice and ensnare, a wearied yet
sonorous croon that is at times a bit too recessed in the mix, but
this merely adds to the mystique.
When
you reach the album’s zenith, the sprawling, psyched-out ‘King
Fisher’, it’s blatant that Windhand have done something worthy.
Like Pallbearer, they’ve taken doom, traced it back to the dark,
pulsating root, and then dragged it into the light of the present,
adding no little polish. This isn’t doom being wilfully
unlistenable; there’s repetition and chops to satisfy all but the
most ardent doom-beard, but this is a record you could play to your
‘unenlightened’ kith and kin and not have the CD immediately
ejected and hurled, Frisbee style from the room. Vital stuff,
evidence of why the doom renaissance just keeps getting stronger.
Words
by Jamie Hampshire
