Well for a start you’ve got to love the title, don’t you? I mean, c’mon; statement of intent or what? Anyway, that aside, if like me you’ve come new and wide eyed to this French quartet of self-styled dope fiend depressives this is their fourth album and from opener ‘Dripping Low’ their sound throws up some challenging questions to us sub-genre nit pickers. They are tagged in PR and other reviews as stoner/sludge but having now expanded their sound with melodic and even gothic tinged aspects. Which, from the sumptuous sound, the excellent slightly strained vocals, and the melody lines played over the classic almost bouncing riff apparently means you end up not far away from the legendary doomanoids Wall Of Sleep. Now that was a hell of a pleasant shock from the sludge box. A wonderful start.
Second song ‘Cut Up Kids’ reverts to the more blocky, flat edged hardcore rooted riff style of much sludge, but the vocals again lift it out with some excellent harmonies and the gothic twist to the melody leaves us kind of in the type of Type O Negative/A Pale Horse Called Death territory. Again, hugely impressive, thoughtful and emotional stuff. By the third song I think I’m getting the hang of them: The absolutely superb, deeply resonant ‘Requiem’ is a seamless melange of Katatonia meets Type O grey riffs, Wall Of Sleep vocals and an incessant need and talent for melody that worms its way under your skin and stays there.
Then ‘Your Stone’ whispers forth; quiet, semi acoustic almost-but-thankfully-not-quite post-rock which bursts into an urgent dark and melancholy rock song and again those great Hangman’s Chair harmony vocals used with such a deft ease. I wanted to hate it. I loved it. And like every other song so far it is concise: just as long as it needs to be and no more.
Hangman’s Chair use bursts of sludge riffing smoothed out by melody and clean vocals bringing delicate rock emotion to a gloomy sound. A definite commercial sensibility exists in songs like ‘Flashback’, but not a cheap one, no, rather a talented and thoughtful one. ‘No One Says Goodbye Like Me’ has such a resigned air of sadness that it reminds me why I used to love Katatonia so much and it possesses a similar need, a bitter edge and the sudden end that Viva Emptiness employed so perfectly. ‘Dope Sick Love’ sidles back close to true doom with a desperately catchy hook, a gentle rise and fall riff and a lovely, languid guitar break.
‘Le Rouge Pour le Sang le Bleu Pour la Grace’ is a curious little fade out where I might have expected something more… urgent but somehow it works to close their world back up again, to set a seal on the album.
It’s quite wonderful as a reviewer when you hear a band who wriggle around between our increasingly pedantic sub-genres so much that you cannot fully pigeonhole them and instead you just have to let them be. Hangman’s Chair remind me of long gone gloom rock bastards Jack Frost in that respect; not in sound so much as just doom/rock that is inconveniently and wonderfully not-quite-an-easy-fit. If you’re a fan of any of the names I tossed around, and want a very individual band to add to them then take a seat on the Hangman’s Chair. For an album that is not supposed to be positive I’m hard pressed to find anything negative to say, frankly.
(8.5/10 Gizmo)
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