Artwork by Jim Webb. |
In a whirlwind 16 days back in the Spring, Grimoire Records recorded, mixed, mastered and released (with art) Without Form by Baltimore doomsters Corpse Light.
The band obviously take their doom seriously as Without Form is full of painfully slow riffs soaked in earth-shaking tone. But they don’t seem slow for the sake of it, or heavy just to be heavy either. There’s a warmth behind those resonating notes yet a painful emotion drips from every pore.
That anger and hurt is tempered by melodies reaching as high as the gut-rumbling doom is low. That sort of back and forth is measured though. For the most part the pace is consistently lethargic with brief excursions into a more explosive sound or heartfelt regions.
How they hammer down and pull back isn’t so much a tension and release mechanism as it is a stalk and pounce, or simply a parallel to the instability of many of our states of mind. Sometimes a riff will stand out as familiar as there isn’t anything terribly original here. It’s a minor gripe though as there is plenty to enjoy, including some aching solos.
Corpse Light work with the epic flair of Cult of Luna and the sludge dynamics of Neurosis wrapped around despondent doom in the vein of say, Cold Blue Mountain.
Writing about Without Form a good five months after its release actually makes more sense as it’s not a Spring-type album. As the night overtakes the shortening days and death looms on the increasingly bitter winds, Corpse Light and Without Form find a more welcoming home as the darkness falls over the land and sadness creeps into your bones.