The Apocalypse comes to your stereo. A wall of droning guitar terror with crushing riffs the size of small countries, huge drums beating out the ritualistic sound of the ultimate slow Doom heartbeat, and vocals that are likely to induce fear and claustrophobia in the listener. Quite possibly the scariest and at the same time, essential Doom masterpiece this side of the monstrous Khanate debut. Featuring members from that already near legendary outfit (Greg Anderson, Stephen O'Malley and this time along with Justin Greaves and the godlike vocal talents of Lee Dorrian), the descent into Rampton is indeed a road strewn with references aplenty to past albums of similar sonic vastness but at the same time finding new, as yet uncharted areas from the Doom landscape. Heavier than a sackfull of the heaviest things that you could ever imagine, Rampton is a three-track monster that will reduce your house to rubble if played loud enough.
Opening track, the meandering 29 odd minute He Who Accepts All That Is Offered (Feel Bad Hit of the Winter) is a prime example of what can be achieved with the members present. The guitar drones, the drums snap and beat off kilter, slowly building up to a droning crescendo in the time that most bands have discharged several songs and after nine minutes, the track finally opens up and sucks the listener into the pit of despair that has been so carefully constructed. Dorrian's vocals are not unlike his earlier Cathedral excesses when he finally emerges, he almost sneers the lines from deep within the walls of drone that the guitar produces. Several layers of guitar feedback ensues and combining with the accompanying mile wide riffage, in tandem with the slow funeralistic beat of the drums, and along with Dorrian's recognisable vocal talents, makes the 29 minute running time seem like a lifetime. The track goes through several slower than slow incarnations during the half hour before erupting at regular intervals with an even deeper louder sound than previous thought possible during it's, and possibly our lifetime. It's a colossal psychotic monster of a tune and it's only the opening number.
Second track New Pants and Shirt, originally vomited forth by Killdozer is equally as oppressive, even at 22 minutes shorter than the first track. Yet another solid droning wall of guitar is built and it's hardly around long enough to destroy and lay waste before the final tune from these Doom-meisters cascades from the speakers and removes all thoughts of escape, pleasure and easy listening, enter the 49 gates of uncleanness indeed. The Smiler reaffirms what the first track had so carefully achieved, a huge guitar led groove that revels in it's doom sludge nastiness. Slower, sludgier and more unpleasant in the entirety of it's running time. Mid-track the guitar goes unnaturally quiet, leaving Dorrian to lead you into a false sense of security, all spoken vocal and whisper, accompanied by the drums before the droning skin peeling guitar hammers home the message yet again along with some timely keyboard hum. It's a nasty and sickeningly deep groove and I love it.
An unholy invocation of crippling Doom Metal, it does exactly what you'd expect. Total destruction but at the same time, a trip to a place called Rampton with these guys leading, you'd expect nothing less.
Stephen Howes - 25/05/2002
|
Читать 
