Blackened doom metal has a small kvlt following. Few bands like the approach a great deal, but when it is played without shenanigans, it is no ordeal for the listener.
Morast’s Ancestral Void is an album quite like that. It is morose, suffocating, entrenching. It is a fall from a harrowing flight down a plumbing depth of sorrow without hope of ever returning.
Morast mixes the tremolo picking and rung notes with funeral doom pace. Sometimes the drummer double-kicks in mid-tempo, and the resulting riffs that accompany them see some nuance. The songwriting is integral to the approach, because without quality instrumentation and musicianship, all the band has to rely on is the listener’s temperament for the darkest of inspiring Helicons. Morast, fortunately, is up to the task of conveying darkness in their own unique way, and utilize a songwriting attack that helps the listener feel the music to greater extremity.
The guitar grit is notable for some mention as well. The guitars are downtuned in sludgy blackened death metal fashion. The six and fifth string rooted chords are dark, gritty and menacing when combined into intros and accompanying rhythm sections to the notes ringing. When the tremolo-picking commences, the guitars features some lithe quality to the upper strings, but always the band incorporate the heavier chords to the benefit of the music.
Ancestral Void also features cavernous vocals that somewhat enunciate some of the lyrics. A lyric sheet would be an enticing companion to the music, if the music alone is not sufficient to a listener that is curious about the album’s conceptualization.
Otherwise, imagine falling into a pit of darkness and despair, free-falling without end and conceivable redemption, if you’re interested in experiencing Morast’s Ancestral Void. This is music meant to signify the slow degradation of sense and sentience, and a love for blackened doom is not a necessary facet for a fan of metal to choose an intent listen of the album. It is easy to bop along to as the drums periodically pick up pace, and it makes relaxing meditation to darkness possible when the tempos lurch and the beats disappear altogether.
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– Al Necro