LORD DYING
LORD DYING “Clandestine Transcendence”
By Lord Randall
LORD DYING’s third album, “Mysterium Tremendum”, set the Portlandians (Portlanders? Portlandites?) firmly amid the bands that release watershed albums in which they could’ve really gone any direction from where they were. Brushes with previous prog elements became more intentional, and it helped the foursome in carving out its own niche in the somehow currently crowded sub-genre of doom in all its facets.
“Clandestine Transcendence” sees founders Olson and Evans return with a new rhythm section, and slowly, almost languidly ushering us into “The Universe Is Weeping” with guitars reminiscent of WISHBONE ASH or PROCOL HARUM when they knew they had time to spend on a musical journey. One can almost see the lava lamps shifting in the blacklights. That is, until bassist Alyssa Maucere and skinsman Kevin Swarz make their presence known, turning this opening track into a foot-on-the-monitor stomper of GRAND MAGUS proportions. The vocal coda enough is chilling, yet glaringly defiant, trippy without tripping over itself.
“Final Push Into The Sun” bleeds and bellows prog in the MASTODON “Remission”-era sense. I’ve always been confused at LORD DYING’s being described as “sludge” anything but call it Latvian Electro-Flamenco and it wouldn’t matter, because there’s a point when the music just is, and “Clandestine Transcendence” lives in that space, from ‘Final Push…’’s ‘Space Oddity’ bridge to “Facing The Incomprehensible” with its death-crust frenzy.
Our ears are soothed in “Break In The Clouds (In The Darkness Of Our Minds)”, its hypnotic sense of lysergic ritual blooming over the tune into a natural climax, nearly sexual in nature, while “Swimming In The Absence” shrouds itself in shadow ala FIELDS OF THE NEPHILIM, MAGAZINE (think “Permafrost”), the best of SISTERS OF MERCY.
LORD DYING, have now become the Autumn weather in Michigan. Don’t like it? Stick around a few minutes, it’ll change. In this case, though, instead of leaving a sense of confusion, of slapped-togetherness, one has the impression of several disparate threads being woven into a tapestry both radiant and somber called “Clandestine Transcendence”.