Posts Tagged ‘gothic rock’

With their final single in advance of their new album, the melancholia driven mid-tempo track ‘But Today’, 

Soror Dolorosa present a different facet of Mond. Illuminated by a visualiser, this song channels classic Wave sounds into an expression of sorrow and regret. ‘But Today’ is taken from the forthcoming new full-length of the French post-punk gothic rockers, which is entitled Mond (the German word for ‘Moon’), and has been slated for release on October 4, 2024.

Check it here:

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Soror Dolorosa comment: “The last advance single ‘But Today’ is also the final song on our new album and one of my favorites so far”, mastermind Andy Julia writes. “Creating the different phases of the song was the result of a magnificent teamwork. It gave me particularly great pleasure to get my vocals and the choirs into harmony with the keyboards that you can hear in the chorus. This might well be our most progressive track on Mond that also has the most complex structure. We felt thrilled when we noticed that the complexity was not mitigating the efficacy of the groove and the brilliance of harmonies. Our producer James Kent told us: ‘This reminds me of the Fields of the Nephilim, what a smash!’. All of us in the band were rather thinking about Depeche Mode when we designed the sound and that particular tone of the guitar riffs. I could hardly visualise this song more efficiently than by unveiling the artistic process behind the creation of the cover artwork for Mond that was inspired by my muse. At the beginning of the shooting we had this idea of creating a mysterious character like the myth of the Ancient Greek seer Pythia. Therefore, we began to work with poses of a veiled lady who utters prophecies while having divine visions in a state of trance. Yet with the passing of each hour, the spirit of the moon goddess came over us and Angélique’s naked body finally reflected the light of the stars that are falling apart somewhere between the flame of the sun and the cold nocturnal light of the moon in a perfect symbiosis.”

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Gothic rock band, Sirens Of Light have just unveiled their cover of the Led Zeppelin classic song, ‘In The Evening’.

Says Sirens Of Light main member, Andy J. Davies, “I have always thought this was possibly their best work and has always seemed to be underrated. This version is based on the original studio recording and the live version from the Knebworth concert in 1979… which I listened to live from the garden of my home as I was too young to be there!”

Check the video here:

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Sirens Of Light is a gothic rock band from London, originally formed in 2004.

Drawing on influences from the earliest days of gothic rock and the 80’s/90’s London Goth and Glam scenes – Sisters Of Mercy, David Bowie, Leonard Cohen, Southern Death Cult, March Violets, Rose Of Avalanche, Bauhaus etc. Their first album, Nullus Magis Gothica was recorded in 2004 and saw a very limited release in 2005. It is now almost impossible to find……

Sixteen years later, in 2021, after the lost original recordings were discovered by chance, a new re-mixed version of the record was released on November 8th, 2022.

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The Czech gothic rock band, Cathedral In Flames have unleashed their version of Billy Idol’s legendary song, ‘Rebel Yell’.

In their version of the iconic song, Cathedral In Flames toyed with tempos, added strings and flirted with blast-beats for the first time in their history. Produced by the legendary John Freyer, the song retains the anthemic fast-paced chorus, which is further supported by a stylized comic book video.

Singer Phil Lee Fall says, “The songs were basically made to order. And we had a lot of arguments over it. We couldn’t figure it out for a long time, but when Gatsby threw in the tempo changes, everything clicked. And John added the blast beats symbolically at the very end.”

And Gatsby adds, “I’ve never liked this song, so I approached it in the end in the style of seeing if something interesting could be made out of a thousand times stale little ditty. How it turned out, judge for yourself. I’m washing my hands!”

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17th March 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

This new EP from the bleakly-monikered The Funeral March is described as offering five tracks which ‘whisper of dreams, murmur of despair, cry out in madness, and reflect on hope and loss’, inspired by the Greek queen of the Underworld, Persephone, reflecting on the ‘transition between death and rebirth’.

We’re deep into the realms of heavy concept here, and such weighty topics warrant weighty music. The Funeral March certainly do themselves and their subject matter justice here.

It begins with pounding percussion and heavily effects-laden bass and guitars. I’m instantly reminded of Pornography-era Cure. It’s dense, heavy, intense. Hell, the first time I heard that album I could hardly breathe. It’s liked having your ribs stood on. The first time I heard music so suffocating was on being passed a tape of The Sisters of Mercy’s First and Last and Always and I was still indifferent to The Cure. It was Pornography that really hit me.

It’s that seem that The Funeral March are mining here. With that tumultuous drumming paired with a thick, thunderous bass, and the dark, murky theatricality of early Christian Death – completed with a dark and dirty production that sits between early 80s goth demo and black metal dirt – it’s a compelling and intense listening experience, with ‘Two As One’ proving particularly hellish in its claustrophobic density and ‘Kiss Me’ channelling the synth drone of ‘A Strange Day’ and doomy atmospheric of ‘Siamese Twins’.

The atmospheric ‘Nite Nite’ brings synths to the fore over the trebly mesh of guitar, providing variety of tone and texture not to mention a classic 80s feel, and drenched in reverb, J. Whiteaker’s vocals sound lost as if trapped between two worlds.

The final track, ‘Wasted Moon’, is again driven by a supremely thick bass and trudging beat that echoes beneath the murk. Whiteaker sounds desperate and anguished and you feel the pangs of panic rising.

Listening to Persephone is like being wrapped in a carpet and tossed in a car boot to be buried – not that I have first-hand experience of this, but it’s how I imagine the experience – and that sense of panic and entrapment, of feeling lost and alone is palpable, is real. It leaves you feeling tense, and hollowed out, emotionally drained. Powerful music isn’t about making you feel good, it’s about making you feel. Persephone is powerful and drives straight to the heart.

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28th December 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

These bloody goths, still thinking it’s 1985 and all wanting to be The Sisters of Mercy, in their black garb, wide-brimmed hats, shades, mooning around in churches and graveyards, still churning out tunes with spindly guitar with loads of chorus and flange, with deep, growly vocals crawling over thumping drum machines and four-quare basslines that rip off Craig Adams. They’re all so bloody po-faced, and even when they’re being humorous or ironic they deliver it in such a straight way it’s impossible to tell if they are actually being humorous or ironic or just naff.

And that’s part of the enduring appeal of bands like Cathedral In Flames. You know what you’re going to get, within a fairly narrow margin. It wasn’t really until the 90s wave of goth emerged that this was really a thing, so many of the contemporary goth bands with an ‘old-school’ sound more as if they’re channelling the likes of Suspiria and Children on Stun than The Sister or Siouxsie, and since most can’t register the same low-end as Andrew Eldritch, end up sounding more Cark McCoy for the most part.

Genre history and pedantry aside, ‘Not Another Vampire Song’ (somewhat ironic and humorous) follows the release of their cover of Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds’ ‘The Weeping Song’ (not ironic or humorous), and ‘The lyrics poke fun at typical gothic rock themes as well as stories of closed rock clubs and churches’:

“The song is based on a memory of the nineties, when we used to travel (not only to play) around Bohemia, and after a night of drinking we would go the next morning to the only place that was open (on Saturday or Sunday) at that time, so to church.”

They’ve got John Fryer (Fields of The Nephilim, Peter Murphy, Nine Inch Nails) on board to produce this new material, and credit where it’s due, it suits it well. It’s a solid tune, too, and with its grainy, vintage-looking promo video, it does look and sound for all the world like one of those tracks from obscure 80s also- rans that crop up on compilations of The Sisters and The Mission like that started doing the rounds in about 87 or 88. It’s about as far as you can get from revolutionary, but in terms of delivering what they set out to achieve, it’s Mission accomplished.

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Season Of Mist – 6th May 2022

Christopher Nosnibor

Sometimes, in this line of work, an album will land – or however else you prefer to phrase it – and you know it will likely mean almost infinitely more to you than pretty much anyone you’ll see or speak to or who’s likely to read the review. As a reviewer, you pretty much live for opportunities like this, to cover bands you’re not only a huge fan of, but have been since you properly started discovering music, and also reading the music press (something that sadly no longer exists, at least here in the UK, which once had a rich range of reportage and critique, thanks to Melody Maker, Sounds, and last one standing, NME. Sure, they had their failings, but like The Word, Snub TV, and The White Room on TV, and John Peel, Janice Long, and even Zane Lowe on Radio 1, they were key for providing exposure to ‘alternative’ music and breaking new acts.

It was via Melody Maker and Mick Mercer’s Gothic Rock Black Book that I first encountered Christian Death, and purchased Sex and Drugs and Jesus Christ on its release in 1988. This in turn not only led me to excavate their back catalogue and purchase each new release, but to catch them live a couple of times. They’re a band I’ve not so much returned to, but never really left, despite not always keeping up to date with new releases.

But here we are: it’s the spring of 2022 and after a significant gap since The Root Of All Evilution, Christian Death return with Evil Becomes Rule, which Valor says is, essentially, a sequel, explaining, “Both Evil Becomes Rule and The Root Of All Evilution are pretty much the story of evil. These songs are generally about “The Evil Within Society,” not necessarily stemming from a demon, or a devil, or a God. Instead, it’s about something concerning the evil within mankind… Evil Becomes Rule is a continuation of this theme. We’re going from the present time into the future. When we started writing this album, we anticipated an event like the pandemic; a disastrous event occurring on the earth. So now we’re asking the question, “maybe this is just the beginning of it?”

Evil – and its opposite – is a familiar theme for Christian Death: The simultaneously released All The Love / All the Hate albums explored these diametric standpoints, and essentially aligned hate with evil, taking this idea of the evil within man to its logical end with songs like ‘Nazi Killer’ and ‘The Final Solution’. As such, perhaps the lineage of exploration can be traced a fair bit further back in the band’s career than the last album.

Evil Becomes Rule is quintessential Christian Death, but as is always the case, it’s different from anything before. It’s heavy in places, a shade less metal than things were around the turn of the millennium (Sexy Death God, for example, felt a bit too metal and a shade underproduced), and they seem to have hit something of a sweet spot in terms of balance this time around.

Opening the album, ‘The Alpha and the Omega’ is sparse, but tense, claustrophobic, and initially finds Valor in his best Bowie mode – crooning, stealthy – and this, is the shape of the verses – which contrast with the explosive choruses, there things get dark and, I have to say it, high gothic. ‘New Messiah’ has a quite different vibe, and is almost swingy, smoochy, but does again exploit the quiet verse and big chorus dynamic, and faintly echoing in the dark recesses, there’s the ‘I feel like my heart is being touched by Christ’ sample from Altered States that also appeared on ‘Mors Voluntaria’ from Insanus, Ultio, Prodito, Misericordiaque. It’s still fucking eerie.

Maitri takes the lead vocal on the urgent thrashabout of ‘Elegant Sleeping’, which harks back to their earlier works more than any other on the album, before ‘Blood Moon’ crashes in and already feels like a familiar friend. It’s as strong as any of the singles they put out during their late 80s commercial peak, as represented by ‘Church of No Return’, ‘Zero Sex’ and ‘What’s the Verdict’, and the production is smoother, too, and it very much works in its favour. ‘Abraxas We Are’ is a heavy rock epic which is equally single-worthy, and features some blistering lead guitar work, and they find their rock stride even more solidly with ‘The Warning’ – bursting into a rabid, ragged, industrial stomp about killing sprees in the chorus, and it kicks arse abundantly.

The songwriting – and attention to dynamics – are very much to the fore on Evil Becomes Rule, and the switch to pastoral chamber music in the intro to ‘Beautiful’ brings a nice contrast – the song effortlessly swings into stonking post-punk and is quite uplifting. The album concludes with the suitably dramatic two-part ‘Who Am I’, that combines Spanish guitar and a surging crescendo.

Evil Becomes Rule is by no means their most biting or intense work, and it doesn’t have the raw impact of Sex and Drugs, but instead harks back to the dramatic style of Atrocities, and it works well. It is, perhaps, their most rounded and well-realised release yet, as well as their most consistent. Oh, and yes – we are indeed ruled by evil. These are dark times, where we really need Christian Death and voices of dissent.

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Karisma Records – 3rd June 2016

Christopher Nosnibor

When an album contains only six tracks, and is housed in over art like this, there’s a certain degree of indication of what one may reasonable expectancy. Memento Collider fulfils some of those expectations, but confounds just as many. For a start, it isn’t a drone / doom / metal album, although it is heavy and it is dark. And the tracks are on the long side.

Sure enough, the album’s ten-minute opener is a tense, dark and expansive affair, built around an interlooping bassline and uncomfortable, – guitars that bounce contra to said bassline to build an uncomfortable dissonance. It’s heavily steeped in the post punk / proto-goth tradition in the vein of acts like The Danse Society circa 1983, the flat yet portentous, nihilistic vocal delivery only accentuating the awkward and uncomfortable atmosphere, a sonic dystopia.

‘Rogue Fossil’ again works a groove centred around looped motifs, a hectic, nagging bas coupled with urgent, stuttering jazz drumming hammers insistently while the guitar clangs and chimes at obtuse angles against its claustrophobic shell. The theatrical enunciation of the lyrics, in particular the hook (i.e. the song title), which accentuates the ‘i’ in ‘fossil’ adds a peculiar, alien slant to the track’s angular discordance.

‘Dripping Into Orbit’ melds together theatrical goth-tinged art rock and hectic, angular math rock to forge a bleak and uncomfortable sonic space. The rolling tempo changes re disorientating, accelerating and decelerating bar by bar in a fashion that evokes the spirit and sound of Shellac.

As the album progresses, it becomes increasingly locked into an inward-facing mesh of difficulty, an aura charting increasing stress and crackling cognitive disorder. The effect is cumulative, but each song brings with it new layers of dis-ease.

Listening to the jarring post-punk of ‘Gravity Seeker’, the track which features the album’s title buried in its lyrics as guitars trip and trail all over a lugubrious and repetitive groove, I find myself being sucked into a vortex of bleakness and begin to wonder just what kind of hell the and members have endured to produce music this unflinchingly bleak. The recording sessions for Memento Collider can hardly have been a laugh a minute. But perhaps it was a lot more fun than the music suggests: it’s a mistake to conflate the art with the artist, and equally, catharsis can often be the means by which mental equilibrium can be maintained. Its’s healthy to channel all of the ark stuff the weird stuff and the negativity into something creative – and this is indeed dark and weird.

The final track, ‘Phantom Oil Slick’ spans a full nine minutes and fills it with jangling guitars which bounce every which way over a bass that surges and swells before it breaks in a tidal frenzy. It’s dark, intense, and borderline psychotic in every aspect. A collision indeed. Strap in and go for it.

 

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