originally written by Thomas Creager
Where does one begin about a band such as Deadbird? It’s almost wrong to judge them. The huge rolling riffs, the enveloping melancholic atmosphere, and infectious yells seem to create a sound that is beyond critical thought. It feels criminal to even bring the question “Is it worth listening to?” anywhere near the mammoth Twilight Ritual. “Of course it is, can you not hear it? Now quit interrupting with inane questions,” was the response my brain had to even the slightest attempt to actually review the album. Even wanting to apply a quantitative numerical value to it feels rude, as if doing so would be tantamount to driving an iron stake through one of Deadbird’s thickly muscled hands, pinning a great beast from roaming free. As we all know, however, an album can’t be given a score of “Numbers Are Immaterial”, so get a good look at the thrashing behemoth before the stake is removed.
This is my first experience with Deadbird, so comparisons between Twilight Ritual and their debut The Head and The Heart will not be appearing, though even a passing listen to the previous album makes one thing clear: the production of the second album is better. Let’s make a distinction, though, it is by no means clean, it just isn’t as muddled. One listen to the guitars breaking out at the opener, “Into the Clearing”, and you’ll see what I mean.
Deadbird is very closely related to Rwake, both in blood and spirit. Of the four members of Deadbird, two are current or ex-members of Rwake. It makes sense, then, that Twilight Ritual is two parts Rwake, and two parts additional sludge. Deadbird is earthier, more lumbering, and more introspective than its brother, but the core appeal of both are the same. The melodies, the transitions, and the despondent atmosphere are what make both bands great; what varies is the approach. Of the two, I prefer Deadbird’s philosophy of dirtier and dirge-ier, as well as the persistently throaty, semi-clean vocals, as opposed to the raspier vocals of Rwake.
Be it the catchiness of “Death of the Self”, the slow ascent of majesty in “The Riverbed”, or the somber pounding of “Into the Clearing”, Deadbird utilizes its massive guitar sound, a natural ebb and flow of tempo variations, powerful acoustic guitar interludes, and heartfelt yells of desperation all to the fullest in what can only be considered a classic sludge album. Twilight Ritual’s lamenting mood is so absorbing traditional audio equipment transforms into the skin of Deadbird, secreting its mind-altering substance through sweaty pores.
What the album boils down to is this: if you have at any point appreciated the tempo of doom metal, Deadbird has 47 minutes of material you will like. What particular arbitrarily attributed shade or level of excellence Twilight Ritual happens to be given is irrelevant. It is excellent, and that’s all that matters.
SURGEON GENERAL’S WARNING: Listening To Deadbird Causes Lethargy, Despondence, Lack Of Awareness Of Anything Not Deadbird, And May Result In Spinal Injuries Due To Excessively Forceful Headbanging.
