|Artwork by John "Stormcrow" Sebastian (guitar/vocals)|
Anyway, that's what it comes down to here. Tough as nails doom, filthy vocals and sludgy drone, which paints pictures of ravaged landscapes, to create a style all their own. This is Grey Host's signature, Doom n' drone. When I say drone here, I'm talking about the understated instrumental passages the band lace carefully throughout the disc. The sludge comes here in the form of dust caked in the corners of eyes in a parched expanse, the swamp is but a memory, a lifetime away. Grey Host fleck off riffs like dry, cracked skin, peeling long strips off in an instrumental direction. Barely audible keyboard drone makes all the difference in the world here, lending the music the sound of a howling wind sweeping across the desert plain. Again, it's not something you would automatically notice, but it's there, more felt, more subconsciously absorbed, than heard, let alone enjoyed.
Another intrinsic factor to the Grey Host experience is the pace. Grey Host keep it slow and lumbering, stooped, massive shoulders with arms that terminate in axes which weigh far heavier than the price of a man's soul. The band doesn't bust out into a trot or charge through tracks at a galloping pace. They stalk their prey like a sinewy panther, muscles tensed like oiled chords rippling beneath bronzed and sun parched skin (I'm paraphrasing Robert E. Howard here from memory because that's what Grey Host does to me). Actually, it's hard to call the music strictly slow. It is at times, but mostly it's kept to the tempo of a brisk walk, or slow march. Notes are steeped in remorse, sorrow and haunted by the memory of acts it sometimes takes for a body to survive a hard driven life.
|Photo by Greg Lutz|
Highlights include: "The Shaman" and "Bonemother"
Total Run Time: 54:30
John Sebastian - Guitars/Vocals
Jason Nix - Guitars
Zac Schmidt - Drums
Evan Roberts - Organ