Album art is a tricky concept. Because, let’s face it, many people are drawn to music by what’s on the cover, in the same way they’re drawn to food by what it looks like on a plate. A great cover will get a band not only listens but purchases, and Demon Lung have enticed nerds and metal heads (is there a difference?) everywhere on their cover for A Dracula. The original artwork, by Joshua Foster, depicts the lands of Mordor. The Sauron-like Demon arising below an eye-like fireball or sun while a mountain (most likely Mount Doom) spews forth a feral smoke towards the sky. Although the art reaches for Tolkien-esque heights, the music takes a much more mundane approach, unable to ascend the steps of the Cirith Ungol pass through Ephel Dúath and past Shelob’s lair.
Demon Lung’s 2013 debut, The Hundredth Name, was met with praise. It was, at the time, something new—something fresh being brought to the doom sound. But in the two years since, the genre has made gigantic strides musically, adding influences from across the musical spectrum, and interspersing roots of its own influences. Demon Lung has failed to adapt and evolve with the genre; even worse, they have taken a step back. The addition of a crew including heavyweight producer Billy Anderson has not helped. Instead, the band has softened its assault in attempting the dreaded concept album laden with production that sounds as if your speakers are wrapped in pillows.
Using Juan López Moctezuma’s film, Alucarda, as a sort of muse, the album, through both lyrics and music, tells the story sketched out by vocalist Shanda Fredrick. But tracks like “Deny the Savior” are prime examples of why this album falls short of the mark musically. The track begins with strong work—a simple riff, recorded in a thick, hard-hitting manner, supported by whining, layered vocals and a bevy of crash cymbals. But as the song drones on, the riffs fall away—replaced by spoken word akin to vegan hardcore band One King Down, which play softly underneath some overly rote guitar noodling. The track finishes in a puff of smoke as it fails to recall the main theme—the thick, quality riff—in favor of delayed feedback. Shanda Fredrick has a very great voice, one that does not need to be so heavily produced and tweaked. It’s unfortunate that the production sought to overshadow the more organic sound that the band showed on The Hundredth Name.
There are some songs that stand out; tracks like “I am Haunted” or “Mark of Jubilee” certainly have their moments—the strength lying in the vocal-driven approach to their brand of doom. But ultimately, much of the album feels like a remake of 1990’s grunge music with production that suffers from an excessively thin mix, over-worked with reverb. Hidden in the mix are some solid riffs and some great ideas, but the execution is subpar, and recreates a poor version of a now long-forgotten genre.
-Manny-O-War
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