Samothrace - Reverence to Stone
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Samothrace may have inadvertently broken the secret for any doom act looking to become even heavier: move to Seattle. Apparently the land of constant precipitation, fresh fish and over-caffeinated hipsters (“yuppies” to those of you who came of age in the ’80s) can wear on an already bleak band. 2008’s Life’s Trade was a dizzying first step, solidifying Samothrace’s trademark confluence of Bryan Spinks’ trachea-shredding yowl giving way to his piercing blues leads and evocative solos. Not long after, the quartet left Kansas for the grand Pacific Northwest, rhythm guitarist Renata Castagna quit and rejoined, and, if their promo photo is any indication, the guys and gal continued to smoke bales of government grade ganja. Thus, we get Reverence to Stone, an album with half the tracks of its predecessor, with “When We Emerged” being a rerecorded demo.
So, it essentially took them four years to write one song. But holy shit, it is one hell of a song. “A Horse of Our Own” is likely the deepest doom jam you’ll hear all year. It covers every base imaginable, and a few you won’t even know were left empty until Samothrace crushes them underfoot. Here, Spinks etches leadwork of eons past, present and future, his squalls staining the interior of the track like the artifacts left in the Chauvet Cave. It’s a kind of instrumental glossolalia, letting us glean more from wailing solos than words could ever convey. This is the true essence of the blues, the stuff from which the metal we love so dearly is derived. After a pensive inhale and a cloudy eruption of towering Neurosis riff-chaos, Samothrace lay it all bare halfway through, emptying everything save for Joe Axler’s echoing toms bracing crystal clear picking. Samothrace keep us guessing every single one of the track’s 20 minutes, laying down a masterclass in nonlinear songwriting in the process.
Contrast that with opener “When We Emerged”. It’d be easier to criticize if it weren’t a composition from 2007, predictable song structure and all. The song’s half-time groove seems positively warp speed compared to its first few minutes of funereal hammering. Once again, the spontaneous combustion of Spinks’ leads garners the most attention here, as his meandering scales clamber over the muck and fuzz, the quaking granite and swirl of primordial soup stretching its tendrils for miles. How can something so massive leave us suspended in light? Reverence to Stone isn’t a ton of material after a four-year absence, but what is captured here is some damn fine – and disarmingly emotional – work.
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20 Buck Spin (LP, CD)
Bandcamp (Digital download)
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