The first album from UK trio Morass of Molasses has definitely been one encounter we have here been keenly anticipating, almost from the day the band first stepped forward with a couple of senses infesting, psyche twisting tracks. Their fusion of doom, sludge, and stoner bred textures served in a swamp of aural filth just fed all the instincts and continued to through their debut EP a few months after. Now we have These Paths We Tread to devour, an album which we will admit had us a touch unsure initially.
Instantly enjoyable, These Paths We Tread still had thoughts crowding to contemplate its new proposal of sound. Morass Of Molasses has lured their music from the filth infested depths of the swamp into a cleaner yet still aurally clinging landscape. That is not to say that it does not still come with a healthy coating of scuzz and doom lined dirt but it is a lumbering trespass of sound which is almost more celebratory than predatory. Quite simply their sound has matured, grown up even, and hindsight through listening back at certainly that last EP, So Flows Our Fate, shows it was an evolution on the cards even back then. To be honest we miss the filth but it has not stopped These Paths We Tread through time and listens blossoming into one seriously striking encounter loaded with the potential of even greater adventures ahead with the threesome of vocalist/baritone guitarist Bones ‘The Beard’ Huse, lead guitarist Phil ‘The Mountain’ Williams, and drummer Chris ‘The Beast’ West.
These Paths We Tread gets off to a mighty start with My Leviathan, its gentle caresses of melody and atmospheric waves a deceptive coaxing into the waiting jaws of colossal riffs and flirtatiously tangy grooves. Settling into a predacious crawl entwining raw causticity with salacious seduction, the song roams ears and imagination like a primal siren. Bones’ raw throaty roars share pure toxicity at times, his hostile tones matched by the punchy rhythms of West but tempered by his own calmer vocal tempting and the sonic web cast by Williams. Continually twisting through an array of perpetual incitement on ears and appetite, the track is glorious, its emerging funkiness icing on the feral cake.
Recent times has seen MOM tear into stages alongside the likes of Orange Goblin, Ohhms, Vodun, Elephant Tree, Desert Storm, Space Witch, Sea Bastard, Gurt, and Limb among many others, and there are essences of a few of these within second track So They Walk. Its grooves seep Orange Goblin/Kyuss like taunting whilst its irritable side has a Sleep like causticity, all merged into a distinct MOM recipe and a track like its predecessor which hits the spot with relish.
Continuing themes of “mythic sin and ancient archetypes”, album and next up Serpentine lyrically and musically bind the listener in evocative textures. The third track winds around ears with a dexterity and sonic adeptness emulating its title, grooves almost slithering across the imagination as rhythms bite. Bones’ warm if emotionally deceitful vocals contrast the underlying volatility of the track superbly, also erupting at times to spark a sonic wave fuelling greater weight and intensity throughout. It is a bewitching affair, not as instantly gripping as the first pair of songs but blossoming with every listen into an instinctive temptation before the brief incantation of The Ritual lures and the haunting presence of Centralia descends. A weave of stoner bred enterprise lined with provocative shadows and ghostly whispers as infectious rhythms drive a rolling canter, the second of the two is a well of suggestion coloured by the skilful adventure of Williams on guitar strings.
Next up Maenads is a psychosis of drama and sound, simultaneously enthralling and threatening with seduction and primal toning. It is fair to say, as the album, the track grows and infests deeper into the psyche with every taking of its inflamed intoxication; its melodic anaesthetic fascinating and feral instincts tantalising before things end with Wrath Of Aphrodite, a song which maybe did not quite spark the passions as richly as its companions yet has body and appetite for more bouncing to its groove woven, heavily boned rock ‘n’ roll.
Certainly for fans of the band, These Paths We Tread will maybe need time to grow and develop on ears and thoughts though newcomers will find Morass of Molasses a quick persuasion we are sure. Yes we still miss the filth but the album blossoms into something thickly compelling and increasingly pleasurable; how stupid of us to doubt with those first thoughts.
These Paths We Tread is out now through HeviSike Records in various formats @ https://morassofmolasses.bandcamp.com and http://www.hevisike.com/product/morass-of-molasseslp
https://www.facebook.com/MorassOfMolasses
Pete RingMaster 24/05/2017
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
Mixed by Sanford Parker and mastered by Collin Jordan, Hollow Leg starts its proposal with Raven. The initial volley of firm beats almost stalks the listener as the song makes its first move. A momentary breath then follows, opening the way for dirty riffs and scowling vocals to lay their hand on the senses as rhythms bring their heavily sinew bound incitement to bear on the blues scented, sludge fuelled consumption of ears. Shifting through the gears back and forth in attack, the track quickly becomes a grumbling treat; essences of the likes of Eyehategod, Weedeater, and Crowbar making tempting hues in the band’s provocative web of sound and texture.
The atmospheric, drama soaked entrance of Mafiaso Opera deceptively makes a gentler proposition but its sinister air is soon a tempestuous torrent of catchy beats and predacious riffs. As vocals rage spicy grooves wind around the rhythmic temptation, varied metallic strains linking arms in a familiar yet fresh incitement. Brawling with the senses through every passing second, the track quickly eclipses its impressive predecessor, stomping with raw aggression and captivating enterprise before Doghouse Blues prowls with an equally rapacious intent to that of the previous track while military seeded rhythms impose their agreeable authority. Like a blend of Gruntruck and Pantera with a whiff of Mary Beats Jane, the track irritably rumbles leaving satisfaction full if not quite matching the heights sparked by the pair before it.
The following Ursa Machina is an even more imposing and tempestuous affair. Its doom bred heart instantly crawls over the listener yet in its air a smouldering melodic heat resonates with suggestive, devilish eroticism. That siren like comparison is no more apt than here with High Priestess Nighthawk’s tones the beacon coaxing ears from within the track’s haze lit predatory rocks. From its bewitching start, the song lumbers with a raw seductive swing, its carnivorous creative bones prowling the senses and imagination as vocals heartily croon. As with its predecessor, the song’s landscape is an evolving adventure, uncaging new energies and inventive gaits to match its fuzzily flickering canvas of sound.
As mentioned Terrestrial now gets its broader release with the band working on its successor. The album works as individual trespasses of the senses or as one complete physical and mental consumption, the latter our preferred assault. Opener Cycles (The Anguish of Anger) sets the scene and tone of the release; its melodic and atmospheric presence melancholic and haunting while its rhythmic touch is intensive. Clayton’s vocals are as emotively harrowing and imposing as the emotionally bruising weight of the funereal toned and moving track, yet throughout the sinew wielded beats of Vallely and grievous breath of Whittle’s bass incite a magnetism alone which infests as Clayton weaves with guitar and keys.
At over ten minutes, Deliverance is an epic proposal which devours time with its craft and magnetism. From a gentle opening as warm as it is melancholic with guitars and keys entwining with earthbound celestial beauty, the piece brews a darker side. Striding rhythms are the first deceptive shadow, again a sure invitation with a portentous edge though their threat merely simmers for its first third. Eventually though there is no holding back the energy and intensity of the skirting shadows, their fiery eruption the spark to a lava flow of melody and carnivorous energy. It is impossible not to get lost in the depths and suggestiveness of the track, the imagination casting its pictures and tales as the track continues to ebb and flow in touch and creative fire, perpetually burning its presence into appetite and spirit while captivating with its variety of attack.