Ask just about any young band what they believe to be a principle advantage to knocking about in our current era and they’ll likely concede that it centers around the fact that it’s a hell of a lot easier to get your work into people’s hands without the favor of a major label. But even during an age when DIY blissfully continues to proliferate, it’s quite nice to occasionally witness what appears to be the age-old system working as it was originally intended: cut a single demo, push it within the proper circles, then watch the demand escalate until a major label starts sniffing around the door.
Such a scenario probably wasn’t the original intention of this one-time one-man doom mission spearheaded by London based guitarist/vocalist Toby W. Wright, but that’s just how things slowly shook out over the course of the last three years.
The In the Days of the Taurean Empire demo dropped back in 2010 and featured Toby at the helm of everything save the drums, and doom fans scrambled like uncorked Beagles to hunt down what few CDr’s joints like the venerable Hellride and Shadow Kingdom Records were able to stock. The relatively scant 23-minutes didn’t necessarily offer up anything brand-spanking new – just four slices of vintage wallop in a Candlemassive vein, heavy on the massive – but it was done in a manner that revealed ample evidence that young Sir Wright had discovered a direct tap into the very crux of doom’s marrow, so folks were suitably stoked.
Then, on a particularly quiet night following the final sale of the last copy of his demo, Toby was drawn to an open window by a light, ghostly whisper on the wind: “If you build it, they will bang…”, thereby marking the precise moment when he realized that his one-time one-man project was larger than just himself.
Well, that’s obviously some grade-A Iowa bullshit being flung there, but the decision to pull in a crack commando unit of mercenaries to help with the intensifying cause was an excellent one, because everything In the Days of the Taurean Empire did, Desperate Souls of Tortured Times does better.
It’s all still very much rooted in a distinctly Candlemass sort of vibe, but more along the lines of the Swede’s modern era that emphasizes a bright, annihilating clump that’s unafraid of occasionally quickening the pace and galloping as a more “traditional” sounding metal band. And despite the beautifully crisp (and perfectly balanced) production by Jaimie Arellano (also responsible for the latest Angel Witch record), there are plenty of instances where the filthy Trouble-styled riffs that drove the demo’s engine peek through and kick you squarely in the pearly whites. The 3:20 mark of the self-titled cut, for example, is nastier, fatter and more bulldozing than an Arkansas wild boar with pissed hornet in its ear, and it’s gonna mow you the fuck down.
The addition of three new members to the fold not only brings an expanded level of proficiency to the table, but also allows a wider culling of styles to further spice the pot. Those already familiar with former Mourn/current Blood Island Raiders guitarist, Alastair Riddell, know the only thing he probably does better than farming hair is swinging the axe, so his presence is excessively and passionately felt here, but the true surprise is how much of a role drummer Darius Claydon and bassist Richard Bruce play, particularly with regard to the album’s overall heft. Claydon’s heavy hands pummel like hammers, and great God-a-mighty, show me another collection of songs from 2013 with a more desecrating bass presence and I’ll eat my damn hat.
The only thing I’d expect in terms of bellyaching from backseat drivers might deal with Toby’s clean, fairly no-frills vocal delivery. There’s a marked improvement compared to 2010, however, particularly with regard to the cuts that rely on an infectious chorus, like “Sinking City” and the fantastic “Walk With Me, My Queen.” I’d agree that there’s a bit too much time spent within a moderately droning delivery during the expansive slow measure of “Embrace the Stone,” but it’s a minor kink in an otherwise mighty tune, bundled alongside a full stack that hits heavy as sin from start to finish.
Slashed to a single word, I’d call Desperate Souls of Tortured Times appropriately ‘huge.’ The production is huge; the album cover is huge; the bass, drums and riffs are huge; and hell, even the beards are huge. But I guess Age of Hugeness doesn’t really have quite the same ring to it. ‘Taurus’ is pretty fitting as well, though, as it appropriately represents the hulking and deliberately trampling slant behind the band’s design. If you like your metal to doomily kick your ass to the dirt, Desperate Souls of Tortured Times stands as one of 2013’s more compelling options.
