Originally written by Matt Longo
You can always twist an idiom to suit one’s needs. Regarding how much time is all right to spend with someone/something, it may be argued that either “familiarity breeds contempt” or “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. Music is no exception to this rule. For example, I feel it wise to go no more than six months without revisiting Black Sabbath, but hey, that could be too much for someone else. Everyone has similar experiences with certain bands, and no matter who you choose, a reason to return is always found.
True, there is no doom without debt to the Brummies, but when listening to Witchsorrow, you’ll probably hear more complete allusions to, say, Cathedral or even Orange Goblin at some of their faster tempos versus gravelly rasps. It’s all quite British, really… and not bad, not at all. Shoot, if you wanna herald the end of the world, this is how I’d prefer to hear it. The title track is a good example — beginning with an ominous quote of nuclear demise from the movie Wargames, then lurching through seven minutes of gruesome plod before charging hard to the homestretch and skidding to a flesh-rending halt.
If Witchsorrow intends to wrench bitterly unwilling (and ebony?) tears, then the deliberating doom behind “Masters of Nothing” is how to make ’em cave. They get downright YOB-y with perhaps another slight nudge-nudge to Sabbath in their title. I just feel like they keep reverentially referencing their heroes, but scarcely step forward. Best example: You’ll hear the main chug from “Children of the Grave” not once, but twice — see if you can find where! And for me, once that riff was recognized, the overall impact was detracted.
Those who read my Wizards of Kaos review know that I was unstoked with their debut; if you’re gonna plumb the past, additional dimensions should be explored, and most everything there seemed rather 2D to me. Likewise, if anything keeps me from returning to Witchsorrow, it’s their skeletal design. The music need not be wildly experimental, but more color could add needed character. Admittedly, I was kinda creeped out by mid-album instrumental “Ab Antiquo” (translation: “from the ancient”) and this is good. Make us uncomfortable! Maybe this is the kind of band better experienced live, with intense sonics integral to the performance—like Jucifer or sunn0))).
I want this to feel dimly lit, emanate eerily, project visions of skulls staring from a pagan altar within a dank, dripping cave. God Curse Us is an enjoyable enough exercise in evocative doom, however my mind keeps imagining a trio on stage, rather than being truly transported elsewhere. Witchsorrow has clearly unearthed the crucial elements here, but must still find the best blend to get the right reaction for sinister synergy.
