LUNARSAPIAN - A Slow, Painful Life - CD - Blackened Death Records - 2016
If A Slow, Painful Life catches you unprepared you'll be excused if you find yourself surprised and wondering if it's music at all or some random, scary noise about to go on forever.
It's not hard to get confused by the opening of the first real track (after a small intro), but, once it settles, it's not too much of a musical surprise. In essence, it's pretty much one riff, steady, doomy, pounding drums and a horror of screams and underlying basement ghostly deep voices trying to sing... something; whatever the dead are singing while decomposing, whatever your nightmares sing when they are feasting on your flesh or whatever other nasty thing you can think of.
The next track continues with heavy guitar, and this is actually heavy. Not "it's mid tempo thrash but we'll call it heavy 'cos it's what they call it" but an actual heavy, doomy, ominous guitar. Well done. So there's a heavy guitar, then; and the basement echoes continue, the screams get more ritualistic and there's another guitar playing an overlay. Nothing too complicated, nothing new at all, nothing progressive, nothing that most people couldn't do, but - and this is the whole point - it's something you have to hear. And this, dearly beheaded readers, is what the underground is about!
Lunarsapian doesn't care about impressing you, yet they do it with minimal effort and maximum attitude. To complete A Slow, Painful Life there is a piano interlude over rain and someone holding a speech, a faster but equally threatening song, a 15-minute epic that seems like it ended too soon and a closing song which somehow sounds even heavier than what any preconceptions you might have about heaviness; even though Lunarsapian plays blackened doom, the thing you will remember about them will be the heaviness. Heaviness of the deadly kind. (8/10)
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