REVIEW: Salome – s/t LP

salome_st_small

It’s become something of a common conceit in certain strains of metal: slow = doom. For the most part, I agree. Slow does indeed equal doom, and the slower and more sludgier the music, the more doom is conjured.

Still, it’s worth considering that maybe, just maybe, tempo isn’t related to some sort of a sense of approaching evil, or ever-present evil, or even a past evil lurking in the recesses of our collective memory. Maybe the slow and sludgy pace of doom metal can simply be an attempt to draw aural attention to the space between notes, the dynamics of a snare drum and bass drum, the hiss of a cymbal hit with ferocity. Or maybe I should shut up and put on a black t-shirt (sure, I have plenty) and get evil.

Salome‘s self-titled LP opens with the sound of a TV, or a radio, or some other form of media white-noise (black-noise?), and a decidedly un-metal riff being played. Maybe we’re hearing the sound of Salome guitarist Rob Moore noodling on his guitar as he watches TV. Within :30 he moves to the jam room and the opening riff of “The Vivification of Ker” starts playing, completely obliterating everything in it’s path. Enter Aaron Deal on drums, taking his sweet fucking time, letting us hear every open hi-hat hit and every ride bell ding ding ding. And then Kat starts singing.

To call Kat a vocalist is to completely undermine her ability to make yr blood simultaneously boil and turn to ice. She manages to be guttural without sounding like it’s put on, like so many other metal vocalists. Her vocals are anger, fear, dread, and yes, doom, all in one. What is she singing about? With no lyrics to guide me, it’s hard to tell, but I think if I was pressed I could make some educated guesses.

With all of these pieces in place, Side A of the LP is a must for fans of Black Sabbath, early-to-mid era Melvins, and 16th century woodcuts of torture scenes. Things go from slow, to double time, to slow, to SLOW. Side B of the record, the 22-minute monster track “Onward Destroyer” begins with a slow (!) and swampy riff that unfolds and mutates over the course of the first eight minutes, and then returns to its original form. Kat’s vocals here are especially terrifying. This song, too, contains my favourite two moments on the record. At about 13min and 17min, the song’s main riffs disintegrate into a squall of controlled and sickly harmonic feedback, some of the best I’ve heard. Ever.

All in all, an amazing record. And I think it’s worth saying again that I don’t think slow necessarily equals doom, especially here. There’s a horrific and hideous aspect to these songs, sure, and that’s part of the aesthetic. Still, I think it’s worth saying that maybe it isn’t so much that these songs are slow and therefore doom-laden, as they are unhurried and therefore meditative. I won’t go so far as to say this is trance metal, but there is a deliberate and measured approach to the performance of these songs that makes them far more vital than other doom that I’ve heard.