Writer and philosopher George Santayana once said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it,” and goddamn if we aren’t at the cusp of experiencing that very thing. We have more history and collections of events from our past to keep us informed, but people also seem to have a pigheaded nature to think repeating events don’t apply to them. They can’t possibly be wrong!

Boston-based doom/crust crushers Morne clearly have seen enough to stomach, and that’s all over their thunderous fifth record “Engraved With Pain.” The band—vocalist/guitarist Milosz Gassan, guitarist Paul Rajpal, bassist Morgan Coe, drummer Billy Knockenhauer—sees what most of us do, that being humanity being divided from one another, people falling for the flimsiest cons ever, and the refusal to look back not all that long ago to see things that have happened before. It doesn’t end well, which shouldn’t be a spoiler alert but apparently is for many people. Morne deliver four epic tracks over 41 minutes that batter and hopefully knock loose some cobwebs because we’re not so far gone that there can’t be a recovery, but it’s getting perilously close to irreversible.

The title track is the 10:42 opener, and like much of this record, it kind of treads water, but heavily as hell. That pace might be a bother to a listener who needs dynamic twists and turns; this might not be your record. It didn’t bother me at all. The doomy burn spreads as guitars glide, and the moodiness extends to Gassan’s gruff howls, the playing turning scarring and vicious. The wails get raspier as the pace sludges, battering over and over, the guitars catching fire late and angling into sparks and wooshing keys that lead into “Memories Like Stone” that runs a healthy 10:48 and chugs flesh into ground meat. Scathing howls blast and lead deeper into the murk, your head swimming in chaos as Gassan wails, “Silence calls my name!” The playing weighs down as it drills, the sounds hang in a heat storm, the darkness envelops and turns into ferocious bends. The drums pummel as the guitars heat up again, lathering and steaming, disappearing into a wall of humidity.

“Wretched Empire” is the shortest cut here at as paltry 7:45, and synth charges take hold, moving into thick, chunky punishment, throaty howls dropping hammers on your already struggling muscle structure. The playing is bruising and mean, guitars blaze and send lightning bolts through cloudy carnage, a clubbing assault that weighs down and puts extra stress on your lungs. The heat continues to rise as the synth thickens, sounds bend, and things end in a hypnotic ambiance. Closer “Fire and Dust” is the longest piece, going 11:40 and eating into darkness, gritty howls clobbering as the calculated pace picks up steam. Guitars engulf and amplify the thick winds, charring the ground beneath, picking up the pace and smothering. The playing builds as the energy hits its highest level, adding fuel liberally, bringing everything to its end point amid glorious power that slowly fades.

We’re at a saturation point of people forgetting history, and there’s no secret as to why government officials want to ban certain books because it exposes what these people are doing to us in the present. Morne’s power and ferocity run like a machine boring into the earth, exposing that idea and using their hammering approach to make an intellectual dent into the minds of the misled. Maybe one record won’t change everything, but we need more pieces like these to wake us the fuck up and make us realize the incredibly dangerous slope on which we’re dangling.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/mornecrust

To buy the album, go here: https://www.metalblade.com/morne/

For more on the label, go here: https://www.metalblade.com/us/