Continuing the fascination of my genre du jour, death-doom has started to take precedence in my listening rotation. The genre continues to haunt me in ways that I never knew existed. After all, there’s so much in the death-doom void that I just want to sink into and find out what makes this genre so damned compelling that continues to exceed my expectations. Cue Brána Chladu, the debut full-length from Slovakian(!) band Hrob, a release that has more similarity with the frigid, cavernous sound of Rothadás than, say, Hanging Garden.

To put it simply, Brána Chladu is a desolate onslaught of death-doom that sounds closer to second-wave black metal than anything else I have heard. If you know me, then you would know that second-wave black metal is not something I enjoy listening to; thus, you would assume (correctly) that an album with vestiges of that is something I would steer clear from. However, in its execution, Brána Chladu is one hell of a slow burn that showcases the core of what death-doom is supposed to be: a landmine of sound that takes the pace and tempo of doom and combines it with the drumming and vocals of death metal. There are no clean vocals or “pretty” soundscapes on this record – it is just stripped to the barest of bones. Brutal, demanding, and unforgiving. It is cavernous and filled with a certain amount of dread that doom is known for. It also doesn’t help that the lyrics are in Slovakian, adding to the listener’s fear of not being able to understand what’s happening throughout the album. Nothing about Brána Chladu is welcoming, but you ultimately understand that you are just a voyeur, someone who is watching somebody go through the desolation and the fear this album gives, and you are shaken by the experience. This is the closest one could get to fear incarnate, and there’s nothing you can do. Hrob is Ozymandias, and you must despair against its work.

Underneath the onslaught and the fear Brána Chladu evokes, the music itself is one of Hrob’s strongest points. For example, second track “Chrám Prázdnoty” has a syncopated rhythm that explodes into a fury of blast beats and emotional guitar passages that lie underneath the heavy, guttural vocals. While the vocals may not be what I am into, the music is superbly composed, each instrument coming in when they should and creating a sense of awe and majesty. Every time I come back to this album and this track starts, I’m captured by Hrob’s inherent bleakness and despair. This track alone sells you on the premise that what you are about to hear is not going to make you feel better – it might make your emotional state worse. However, then “Tiene Stromov” and it’s an immediate mood shift. While the music is still bleak, the instrumentation is more akin to something you would find on Floating’s Hesitating Lights. It might not be the goth-tinged death metal that album is known for, but there’s something strikingly similar about it that struck a chord with me. After all, both Brána Chladu and Hesitating Lights are different aspects of death metal, so the similarities between them can viewed through that (sonic) lens. Then, there’s “Zotročený Oheň,” a track that bridges death metal’s murkier, melodic tendencies with what I can only describe as a funeral doom crawl. This track is a study of contrast and texture, where the guitars wail and echo throughout, but the tempo drags and it feels like you are walking through sludge. It’s not sludge, but there’s something that oozes and pulses underneath the vocals, a levity that refuses to be snuffed out.

I know that Brána Chladu is one of many albums in a sea of death-doom that would get lost in the darkness and vastness of the genre, but the reason I like this album so much is that, much like Asphodelus before it, it’s not trying to be like anything else. While this may sound like something that came from the 80s, everything about it is intentional. Granted, one can claim that Hrob is picking up from where the genre was before it deviated into its more well-known branch (melodic death-doom), but it’s not a pastiche. I like to think that Hrob genuinely loves the death-doom of old, and decided to expand on the genre by allowing it to be as filthy as it can possibly be without having it become something else. It doesn’t sound like anything I have heard recently and that’s why I find this album so striking.

At 36 minutes, Brána Chladu doesn’t overstay its welcome. Its haunting nature will stay with you long after you stop listening to it, making you wonder if you did go through the challenge of listening to such an emotionally devastating record. It might not be the greatest first listen, but I think those who appreciate the aesthetics of old death-doom will gravitate to this album and enjoy it. This may not be my type of death-doom, but I am happy I listened to it and I might keep coming back to this album as the year continues. This is an impressive debut and I can only hope that Hrob continues to make music like this. Kudos to you!

— Hera

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Brána Chladu will be available now on both Memento Mori and Night Terrors Records. For more information on Hrob, visit their official Facebook and Instagram.