Untold ‘eavy metal bands have told tales of supernatural coercion, where some poor soul commits an unspeakable act after being tempted or tormented by a nefarious entity. However, none of us really need any other-worldly assistance to engage in vile endeavours.
All the depravity and savagery required to perpetrate horrific acts of cruelty and violence dwell within us, patiently waiting to be unleashed. Tales of mythical beasts and vengeful spectres can be terrifying. But humans are the real fucking monsters, and some of us have satisfied a host of truly nightmarish desires.
Since the mid-90s, Tokyo titans Church of Misery have been detailing a long list of our seediest and most transgressive misdeeds via the medium of bell-bottomed doom metal. With the bulk of the band’s songs probing the twisted minds and heinous actions of mass murderers and serial killers, Church of Misery were well ahead of the true crime curve. The band were trawling through video nasties and thumbing through cheap paperbacks long before today’s endless stream of true crime docs ‘n’ pods became so ubiquitous. The point is, if it’s salacious, sadistic, shocking, or stomach-churning, it probably falls into Church of Misery’s aesthetic orbit.
Cards on the table, Church of Misery have been my favourite contemporary doom band for donkey’s years, and yes, that means you can expect a fair amount of hyperbole below. On the plus side, I’m not blind to Church of Misery’s potential flaws. For example, the group’s last album, 2016’s And Then There Were None, wasn’t the grimy or grisly LP many fans longed for. Something felt off. Something was missing. And there’s a good reason for that.
Recorded in the US with a group of hired guns – and featuring Repulsion singer Scott Carlson on lead vocals – And Then There Were None didn’t feature sufficient amounts of Church of Misery’s usual rawness or heaviness. To be fair, And Then There Were None wasn’t a total disaster. And honestly, I read reviews calling it the band’s strongest album to date. It really wasn’t, by a long shot. But even if some fans (i.e. me) found it a less-than-satisfactory release, the album still featured a number of rock-solid songs. In the end, though, Church of Misery’s signature sickness just didn’t feel sick enough compared to their wickedest work. Even more crucially, the all-important groove that underpins Church of Misery’s best tracks was in short supply.
The good news is, that groove hath returned. Praise be! Church of Misery’s new album, Born Under a Mad Sign, is a masterstroke, seeing the group getting their tone and temper firmly back on a gruesome track. The band have always been open about their obsession with peak-era Sabbath, and combined with plenty of red-eyed elements plucked from vintage and psychedelic rock, Church of Misery deliver some of their tastiest tunes since fan fav releases like Master of Brutality, The Second Coming, and Houses of the Unholy.
More line-up upheavals meant another stop-start assemblage of musicians recorded Born Under a Mad Sign. However, this time the album feels more like a meeting of minds; the resulting music sounds like it’s evolved from a far more simpatico relationship. Joining bassist Mikami on Born Under a Mad Sign is guitarist Yukito Okazaki (from long-running and recommended stoner/doom outfit Eternal Elysium), drummer Toshiaki Umemura (from the Church of Misery blues/psych side-project Sonic Flower), and returning vocalist Kazuhiro Asaeda (Church of Misery’s original singer, and current vocalist for Sonic Flower). It’s a line-up packed with blistering potential, and Church of Misery’s latest batch of murderous hymns are a captivating bunch, one and all.
As usual, Born Under a Mad Sign starts with a scene-setting news sound bite, which is followed by a neck-breaking riff as “Beltway Sniper (John Allen Muhammad)” crashes into view. Immediately, Church of Misery’s thundering guitar and pummeling bass and drums swing into action, setting a menacing mood. At the same time, the band’s inspirations from the depths of heavyweight 70s rock kick into gear, combining forces with Church of Misery’s sludgier machinery to carve out a cavernous trench of hot-rockin’ doom.
Immersive tracks like “Freeway Madness Boogie (Randy Kraft)” and “Murder Castle Blues (H. H. Holmes)” also mine foreboding furrows, their mammoth audio gravity engulfing as much as it mangles. Instrumentally, Church of Misery are 666% smokin’ right here. The band’s fusion of trad doom, acid rock, and extremely 4:20-friendly metal exudes a ton of raw power (and that’s a deliberate Stooges reference, too, my friend.) From the ridiculously infectious soloing on “Most Evil (Fritz Haarmann)” and “Come And Get Me Sucker (David Koresh)” to the speaker-rattling onslaught of “Butcher Baker (Robert Hansen)”, Church of Misery coalesce all of their influences into a thickset slab of headbangin’ gloriousness. Even a cover song like “Spoiler”, lifted from cult rockers Haystacks Balboa’s 1970 debut, is roughed up and scorched by amp-melting riffs, adding more weight and darkness than the original version conveys. (FYI, Haystacks Balboa’s sole LP is great fun for prog and heavy rock nerds alike.)
Points also go to vocalist Kazuhiro Asaeda. His gruff yet powerful voice has an often unnerving resonance, especially when Asaeda’s susurrous murmurs and eerie whispers sit alongside his guttural growls. That macabre mix of vocal tricks suits Church of Misery’s disturbing lyrical interests to a T. Idiosyncratic vocals bring the band’s more-evil-than-evil vibe alive, and the undercurrent of vocal tics add layers of subliminal unease to a swinging albeit unsettling track like “Most Evil (Fritz Haarmann)”.
Production-wise, Born Under a Mad Sign is as raw and organic as gutting a corpse – old school style, knife in hand, trimming the fat. The songs within sizzle with distortion, and the album’s fuzzed-out atmospherics evoke murky realms where abomination reigns supreme. Born Under a Mad Sign also finds an excellent balance between its sharpness, roughness, and sludgier tones. The instrumentation is serrated where needed, but it also maintains a papable grittiness and filthiness.
If you love Church of Misery’s previous albums, you’ll adore Born Under a Mad Sign. Is the band’s new album expanding Church of Misery’s musical vocabulary? Not on your nelly! Although, a new team with imaginative ideas has definitely resulted in a burst of re-energized songwriting. In the main, though, Church of Misery ply the same route and utilize the same tools – and that’s not remotely an issue. No one comes up with a brand new recipe every time they cook up a tasty feast. And there’s no pressing need for Church of Misery to rework an already-winning formula. (Hell, Motörhead turned in the same album for decades, and they’re rightly worshipped as Godz.) Church of Misery found their sonic sweet spot years ago. Sure, Born Under a Mad Sign isn’t a giant leap forward. But the album brilliantly showcases Church of Misery’s skill in injecting a sinister swagger into their otherwise doom-drenched tracks.
Born Under a Mad Sign re-affirms Church of Misery’s mastery of their artistic niche. Considering the endless juggling of personalities, and every other conceivable stumbling block the band’s faced over the past 28 years, the fact that the Church of Misery can release an album this damn good in 2023 is well worth celebrating. Honestly, I had doubts after And Then There Were None. But shame on me; Born Under a Mad Sign‘s pulverizing tracks are filled with fittingly killer riffs and tales of unimaginable horror.
Like Church of Misery’s best releases, Born Under a Mad Sign is a steep dive into humanity’s viciousness and brutality. Rather than blaming the influence of extramundane entities, Church of Misery underscore that the ability to commit horrendous atrocities lurks within us all. That’s a bleak truth. But that’s also a truth that’s resulted in Church of Misery releasing another album stacked to the gunnels with crushing creativity. Born Under a Mad Sign is essential to any trve doom connoisseurs collection.
