From highly-rated Belfast quartet War Iron comes a morose, ponderous noise infected by the pure evil of Andrew ‘Baggy’ Bagwell‘s nefarious, slurring rasp. Dual leads pluck the heartstrings at intervals through the crushing riff and crawling, titanic rhythms of ‘Bludgeon Lord’, the opening track of third album Precession of the Equinoxes (Independent). A warm, crackling production heightens the sinister feel and prevents the quickening bridges from exploding into a full-on Death assault; instead applying the reins enough to make one marvel at how such a precariously-balanced pace is kept.

The desolate peal of ‘Summon Demon Scream the Abyss’ is initially accompanied by a penitent chorus before that terrible lascivity seeps over the body; a funeral groove, twisting with the slowing power and weight of a dying anaconda. Baggy’s repetitive early vocal has the sneering perversity of ex-Lord Mantis‘ screamer Charlie Fell, the track fizzing and swelling with all manner of sadistic sorrow. The introductory bass notes of the title track cause concussion, some unsettling low growls whispering around the floor before the most fetid scream tightens the sphincter: whilst colossal, almost Blackened riffs make the tension nigh-on unbearable. Oddly-pulsing leads at the mid-section combine with bone-crunching rhythmic gymnastics and brutal chops to the coda, all the while staying close to the Doom template. Closer ‘From Napalm Altar’ sees a return to that funereal hostility: the intermittent quiet moments filled with eerie language, setting the teeth on edge for the forthcoming bludgeon; every chord, note and single beat flung from Thor’s Hammer; the accompanying roars and rasps the embodiment of despair and terror.

Finally, the UK has a contender in the Blackened Doom market. Although the winding noise of an Indian or Coffinworm is absent, it’s replaced by an Ophis-style mournful tolling which adds to the ominous feel rather than detracting attention from it. The resonant, single-kick sequence closing this fine, startling album chills the spine, and leaves the feeling that nothing good will ever happen again. To Serpentine Path: if you want to scare the shit out of people at a snail’s pace, this is how you do it.

8.5/10

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PAUL QUINN