Tårn delivers on so many fronts: it’s groovy, it’s heavy, and it’s catchy, a winning combo. Though Ruff Majik has never been as heavy as to be labeled a doom metal act, with each album they grow darker and more brooding and their sound here is a far cry from the stoner rock sounds heard on their debut, The Bear.
Sulphur English is utterly sullen and crushing, yet simultaneously intoxicating, triumphant, and revitalizing. It latches onto an ancient strand of DNA residing in each of us. And it strives to ignite a smoldering flame to illuminate an ancient path we have strayed.
A despondent expanse made verdant by its lush, transfixing melodies; a seamless wayfaring, Jord och aska harbors an elegant blissfulness sodden in melancholy.
We reach a lull as the abrasive yet alluring wall of sound is broken by swirling keyboards and reverb-drenched guitar. This respite is accompanied by visions of lush, green, cold forests that seems to pass by as if in some sort of fevered dream.
Etched into this album’s enigmatic fabric are dizzying patterns of electronic soundscapes, an unflinching quantity of bizarre timbres and transitions, and a keen sense of mania.
The unbridled melancholy pouring from each individual note swirls together to forge a blizzard of biting anguish, though amidst the relentless gales, moments of sunlight manage to break through.