Being a human itself is a daily gamble, a push and pull of influences and decisions that make up just about every second between waking and sleeping. On top of that, the causes we support, the actions we pursue, and the forces with which we align never are going to satisfy everyone, and those who fight back against power structures always will be painted as some sort of troublesome venture lazily painted as evil.
Long-running doom brawlers Thou know this very well, as they are a band that never has participated in digestible art, mainstream opinion, or compromising visions. On their thunderous sixth (and that number is arguable) primary release “Umbilical,” the band—vocalist Bryan Funck, guitarists Matthew Thudium and Andy Gibbs, guitarist/vocalist KC Stafford, bassist Mitch Wells, drummer Tyler Coburn—unleashes all of their vitriol, their passion, and their fire and plasters that all over 10 tracks and 49 minutes of unforgiving power. This band always will be recognizable upon first listen, and they are here, but there are other elements plastered over this work. The sludge thickens and bubbles even more, and there are strains of their unabashed love for grunge and straight up rock intertwined into the molten madness that floods this muscular monster.
“Narcissist’s Prayer” charges up from the start, Funck’s acidic howls barreling toward you, grimy heaviness increasing the pressure. The guitars jolt as sludgy power flattens, the ground quaking as the band doubles back and buries you in smoke. “Emotional Terrorist” is thick and heavy, the vocals smearing as a bruising chorus jars your face and jaw. The playing slowly batters as the menace increases, wrenching as the playing punishes slowly, burning off. “Lonely Vigil” is calculated as the guitars lather, the heat increasing and suffocating, the vocals searching through fiery chaos. The guitars feel like a heat ray before things suddenly go cold, buzzing and finally pulverizing once more. “House of Ideas” starts with whip cracks, and then the playing bludgeons, Funck’s barked howls eating through sinew, the volume adding muscular layers. Molten and sludgy, the playing then begins to pound more slowly, and atmospheric haze tightening its grip. “I Feel Nothing When You Cry” (this track is on a 7-inch with the vinyl, but up next on CD and digitally) has a ripping pace, something energetic and colorful, a heavy brawler but something a little different for Thou. Guitars lather as the track becomes a blistering force, drilling as the melodies thicken, the vocals feeling dangerously infectious, and the elements melting away.
“Unbidden Guest” also is on the 7-inch on the vinyl version, and it is a beast, the howls crushing and smearing, the corrosion becoming a greater factor, trudging through swampy heat. The energy ramps up as the screams sizzle, rippling out into devastation. “I Return as Chained and Bound to You” opens deep in a doom pit, crunching with a calculated pace, torturous fury becoming almost too much to withstand. The playing batters as the guitars light up, and the vocals maul amid a slowly clobbering assault that melts over flesh. “The Promise” bathes in feedback, and then a weirdly melodic attack takes place, Funck’s shrieks feeling catchier even as your muscles are bent in unnatural ways. Guitars stab as the chorus washes over you, feedback lapping acid, the drums destroying as they pace the carnage, a slurry, fiery gust submitting to a squall. “Panic Stricken, I Flee” opens with a strong riff, growing heavy as fuck as it develops, filthy guitars leaving a strange taste in your mouth. The roars are gargantuan as thrashy, vicious power strikes, the destruction going for the throat, and guitars glimmering before a smoking end. Closer “Siege Perilous” burns in place, noise buckling, guitars coating with muscular grit. The playing lumbers as the riffs snarl, bringing menace and mud, Funck’s howls lacerating limbs as the track rounds into sinewy hell, corroding into a disfigured beast.
“Umbilical” is a record that stands alone in the massive Thou resume, feeling like something fresh and more fiery, a renewed spirit that grew out of trying to find what place one has in the world and how we sort the things we do from what we want to do. Maybe those are the same things, and this band always reached out to the radicals, to the forsaken, to those on the fringes trying to figure out what existence means to them. This record might take some time to make its ultimate impact. But taking repeated journeys with this firebreather should reveal more each time you approach Thou’s endlessly burning torch as you let the burn drive you to find what it is you stand for.
For more on the band, go here: https://www.instagram.com/thou_band/
To buy the album, go here: https://www.sacredbonesrecords.com/collections/frontpage/products/sbr342-thou-umbilical
For more on the label, go here: https://www.sacredbonesrecords.com/
Meat Mead Metal 