While most contemporary doom sludge bands have been overlooked in my personal library, I’ll take a moment to justify the addition. Literally haven’t heard much in the genre compared to most fans of modern stoner rock, as it often adds up to reciprocity in turning one another on to ‘this and that’ band. In most instances, my attention is drawn and is not the problem, but the pocketbook is. But then again, “sharing” is caring, right? I do have a handful of current faves, but not like the olden days early doom psych heavies on file.
Anyway, Black Masses is a BIG, as in cavernous dungeon-verb ‘wall of sound’ recording with churning doom boogie to the fore. The prominent downer guitar, detuning sludge factor would never have the same grade-A head pounding effect without it, plodding song after song as to say, if Black Masses were available to Bergman when he made The Seventh Seal, hmmm... I’m envisioning the procession scene and flagellants only to be saved by the fact I’m being told to, “Turn Off Your Mind,” which incidentally wins the nifty track for the LP as about where the fun really begins, with its Brockian hawk windy singularity fuzz blasts—yes’m better and better it goes—definitely the choice cut. Kind of digging on Scorpio Curse too, as one of the more cogent tracks faring with a little more fluidity rising above a quid pro quo formulaic as it dissolves into the out cut, Crypt of Drugula, an atmospheric coming down opiated head-zone twirler—nice’m better and better it goes. So long last, to where my attention was drawn is the last 22-minutes of the LP, perhaps the last 22 should have been the first, but those are the goods that turned me on right in the nick of time, as I was about to reach for my favorite whip.
Overall, a nice trip for the entire sitting, doused in a cloud of cannabinoidal bliss with a decent set of ear goggles attached cranially as you fall down the cold stone steps to your keeper’s feet. [Rise Above]
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