The ocean terrifies me, and I take a trip each year to go spend time at one very much on purpose. But I rarely go into the water. Some of the strangest creatures you’ll ever see exist in that space, and I can only imagine what lurks in the depths where there is no light at all. Plus, it’s a force of nature you cannot battle and hope to come out unscathed. It’s undefeated.
Long-running Belgian funeral doom duo SLOW (the name is an acronym for Silence Lives Out/Over Whirlpool) stare that very force in the proverbial face on “Abîmes I,” their stunning new record that’s either their eighth or ninth, depending on whether you consider their recreation of 2015’s “IV: Mythologiæ” a separate entry. On this four-track, 44-minute pounder, the band—vocalist/multi-instrumentalist Déhà, bassist/backing vocalist Lore—lay thick the sorrowful melodies and the doom heaviness that feels like the weight of a planet. The title itself translates to “abysses,” and a massive, mysterious body of water certainly qualifies as such. If you leave this journey not shaken to your core, you might have done it wrong. It’s that massive and alluring.
“Implode” lands slowly, spaciously, almost at an intimidating level like you’re witnessing a natural disaster about to swallow you whole. The playing lurches as the keys shimmer, the growls wrench, and the storm expands elegantly. Horror engulfs just as misery takes hold, spreading grief as icy guitars plink, and the black loneliness becomes an even greater force, basking in freezing agony, cascading to the gutting end. “Barren” runs 11:36 and unveils steely guitars, beaming keys, and growls that wear away at you. The atmosphere rumbles as the anguish multiplies, the guitars give off glacial energy, and cavernous howls bellow as the playing tingles and burns, the synth chilling wounds. From the murk comes soaring guitars, heavy moodiness, and howls echoing as they’re scorched into oblivion.
“Abyss” emerges from parting clouds, slowly pounding as the synth sheens, growls gut, and deep punishment pierces your soul. The guitars build as the fog becomes impenetrable, vicious growls lay waste, and we slip into a wave of dripping piano notes as the sounds hang. The power wrenches anew as the playing goes mournful and melodic, crushing as it bleeds away. Closer “Collapse” is the longest track, running 14:26 and heading into gazey, rainy weather, the growls corroding as the guitars burn and then add significant weight. The playing takes its agonizing time building the atmosphere and luring you into its center, crushing amid melodic layers, slipping into calm as the keys liquify. The playing then gushes all over, howls mangle with force, and layers land on top of each other, sweeping as the emotion expands. Forceful cries eat into your mind, keys fall, and everything swirls into dark imagination.
“Abîmes I” continues SLOW’s descent into the darker regions of the ocean, a slab of funeral doom that feels like it has its own barometric force. This band always has been one whose music is as much an excursion as it is a collection of songs, a sojourn into the bleakest reaches of existence that can take you over completely. This record manages to capture you from the start and pull you along under the water, scraping against icy surfaces, and letting you see a glimmer of light at the end that hints at hope.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.facebook.com/slowdooom
To buy the album, go here: https://www.auralwebstore.com/shop/index.php
For more on the label, go here: https://www.code666.net/

