-Pre-release review by Zaragil of Maelstrom E-zine-
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 surprising musically. 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, see, 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. The heavy guitar, then. And the basement echoes continue, the screams get more ritualistic and this
time 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 Death 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 you previously learned about heaviness - even though Lunarsapian play blackened doom, the thing you will remember about them will be that one. Heaviness. Of the deadly kind.
(8/10)
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 surprising musically. 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, see, 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. The heavy guitar, then. And the basement echoes continue, the screams get more ritualistic and this
time 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 Death 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 you previously learned about heaviness - even though Lunarsapian play blackened doom, the thing you will remember about them will be that one. Heaviness. Of the deadly kind.
(8/10)