One could make the argument that “traditional” doom metal is a uniquely European phenomena. The North American purveyors of doom tend to combine slow tempos with blues-based punk rock (i.e., sludge) or larynx-destroying growls à la death/doom. Frankly, most doom bands from the New World are too into punk and the various metal sub-genres that borrow from hardcore (grindcore, powerviolence, death and black metal) to even come close to the purist-derived realm of “traditional” doom metal.
Of course, America produced Saint Vitus, arguably the first true-blue doom band, but even Saint Vitus eschews the elements of mythology and high fantasy in order to spin tales of LA’s gutter class and the interior war that rages when the jingoist is alcohol, drugs, or raven-dark depression. Over on the Continent, the original doom bands may have sounded like Black Sabbath, but their lyrical content was usually closer to Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Candlemass were known for both their operatic vocalist (Messiah Marcolin) and their luscious, yet sombre compositions. In the U.K., bands like Cathedral and the hard-to-classify Paradise Lost blended the epic quality of traditional doom with goth rock, psychedelia, and progressive music. In short, European doom typically avoids the street art of punk rock in favor of Northern Europe’s trademark strain of “glorious and victorious.”
Dortmund, Germany’s Wheel are a prime example the European strain of doom. Their latest release, Icarus, is a triumphal, well-sung record that embraces the bombast of hard rock while at the same time making plenty of room for doom metal’s crushing heaviness. On seven tracks, the boys in Wheel (Benjamin Homberger on guitar, Marcus Grabowski on bass, Arkadius Kurek on vocals, and Carston Jercke on drums) keep alive the flame that Ronnie James Dio first ignited in the mid-1970s. Indeed, songs such as “They do for us” and “Icarus” sound like they could have been originally penned by Rainbow-era Ritchie Blackmore.
Despite the genre tag of “traditional,” Icarus does contain a few moments of more modern doom. For instance, the maudlin opening and slow pacing of “Eclipse” sounds more like Electric Wizard than “The Wizard.” And even though Kurek spends most of Icarus deftly wailing through song after song, there are moments when the harsh screams come out, thus revealing the fact that before Wheel there was McDeath - a trash band that once housed several members of Wheel. On “Frozen Sun” and “A Daughter’s Song,” Kurek, like Joe Caper (lead vocalist for Righteous Pigs) before him, intersperses harsh growls in between his primarily clean vocal delivery.
Speaking lyrically and aesthetically, Icarus has a mostly Germanic character and flavor, and yet “Misinterpretation of Kadar,” the record’s sixth track, is a decidedly Eastern turn. Even before the music picks up on “Misinterpretation of Kadar,” a Muslim call to prayer can be heard in the background, letting the listener know that scimitars, not battle axes, will the weapons for this war chant. Another wrinkle to “Misinterpretation of Kadar” is the fact that it might be based on the 1978 novel Night of the Kadar, which deals with a Muslim crew of interplanetary colonists. Even more striking, the leader of these colonists (Osman) has the same name as the founder of the Turkish Ottoman Empire - the great Islamic empire of history. A German band using the motifs of Islamic music is very interesting, especially considering Germany’s often difficult relationship with its ethnically Turkish population.
Global politics aside, Icarus is an enjoyable record that not only rocks hard, but also manages the quieter moments well. For over forty-six minutes, Icarus charts a mid tempo path of pleasurable doom that rarely becomes gloomy or morose. Like the pagan heroes of old, Icarus has its eyes set upon the sun and its music tuned to grandeur.
Track List:
1. Oblivion (There is no Alternative)
2. They do for us
3. Icarus
4. Eclipse
5. A Daughter’s Song
6. Misinterpretation of Kadar
7. Frozen Sun
Icarus is currently available from Eyes Like Snow, a division of Northern Silence Productions
Words: Benjamin Welton
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Of course, America produced Saint Vitus, arguably the first true-blue doom band, but even Saint Vitus eschews the elements of mythology and high fantasy in order to spin tales of LA’s gutter class and the interior war that rages when the jingoist is alcohol, drugs, or raven-dark depression. Over on the Continent, the original doom bands may have sounded like Black Sabbath, but their lyrical content was usually closer to Led Zeppelin. Sweden’s Candlemass were known for both their operatic vocalist (Messiah Marcolin) and their luscious, yet sombre compositions. In the U.K., bands like Cathedral and the hard-to-classify Paradise Lost blended the epic quality of traditional doom with goth rock, psychedelia, and progressive music. In short, European doom typically avoids the street art of punk rock in favor of Northern Europe’s trademark strain of “glorious and victorious.”
Dortmund, Germany’s Wheel are a prime example the European strain of doom. Their latest release, Icarus, is a triumphal, well-sung record that embraces the bombast of hard rock while at the same time making plenty of room for doom metal’s crushing heaviness. On seven tracks, the boys in Wheel (Benjamin Homberger on guitar, Marcus Grabowski on bass, Arkadius Kurek on vocals, and Carston Jercke on drums) keep alive the flame that Ronnie James Dio first ignited in the mid-1970s. Indeed, songs such as “They do for us” and “Icarus” sound like they could have been originally penned by Rainbow-era Ritchie Blackmore.
Despite the genre tag of “traditional,” Icarus does contain a few moments of more modern doom. For instance, the maudlin opening and slow pacing of “Eclipse” sounds more like Electric Wizard than “The Wizard.” And even though Kurek spends most of Icarus deftly wailing through song after song, there are moments when the harsh screams come out, thus revealing the fact that before Wheel there was McDeath - a trash band that once housed several members of Wheel. On “Frozen Sun” and “A Daughter’s Song,” Kurek, like Joe Caper (lead vocalist for Righteous Pigs) before him, intersperses harsh growls in between his primarily clean vocal delivery.
Speaking lyrically and aesthetically, Icarus has a mostly Germanic character and flavor, and yet “Misinterpretation of Kadar,” the record’s sixth track, is a decidedly Eastern turn. Even before the music picks up on “Misinterpretation of Kadar,” a Muslim call to prayer can be heard in the background, letting the listener know that scimitars, not battle axes, will the weapons for this war chant. Another wrinkle to “Misinterpretation of Kadar” is the fact that it might be based on the 1978 novel Night of the Kadar, which deals with a Muslim crew of interplanetary colonists. Even more striking, the leader of these colonists (Osman) has the same name as the founder of the Turkish Ottoman Empire - the great Islamic empire of history. A German band using the motifs of Islamic music is very interesting, especially considering Germany’s often difficult relationship with its ethnically Turkish population.
Global politics aside, Icarus is an enjoyable record that not only rocks hard, but also manages the quieter moments well. For over forty-six minutes, Icarus charts a mid tempo path of pleasurable doom that rarely becomes gloomy or morose. Like the pagan heroes of old, Icarus has its eyes set upon the sun and its music tuned to grandeur.
Track List:
1. Oblivion (There is no Alternative)
2. They do for us
3. Icarus
4. Eclipse
5. A Daughter’s Song
6. Misinterpretation of Kadar
7. Frozen Sun
Icarus is currently available from Eyes Like Snow, a division of Northern Silence Productions
Words: Benjamin Welton
Bandcamp