GREAT COLD EMPTINESS

 

Origen: E.E.U.U., St. Agatha.

Formados: 2014

Estilo: Black atmosférico, funeral doom

Temática: Fantasía, folklore americano, sufrimiento y tradiciones.

Enlaces: Bandcamp, facebook, instagram y youtube

Miembros:

• Meghan Wood Voces
• Nathan Guerrette Todos los instrumentos y voces
• Preston Ell Bajo y guitarra

Discografía:

• Violet Mist & Infrared Stars Demo 2015  
• Hide Thee from Light EP 2015  
• Miles Before I Sleep CD 2018
• Edges of the Earth EP 2018  
• St. Elm's Fire Demo 2019  
• Québec EP 2019  
• Death Gifted a Bouquet CD 2020
• Immaculate Hearts Will Triumph CD 2023
• The Death of Ideals Recopilatorio 2023

DEATH GIFTED A BOUQUET (2020) 

Segunda entrega para este proyecto estadounidense con un sonido muy personal que nos ofrece un álbum a medio camino entre el black atmosférico y el funeral doom. El álbum encierra una obra conceptual, de una niña que vive con su madre después de ser abandonaos por su padre y en donde tiene que hacerse fuerte al ver caer a su madre en la depresión y el alcoholismo. Este trabajo consta de cuatro extensos temas repletos de interesantes cambios de ritmo y de enrevesadas disonancias, al mismo  tiempo que no se renuncia a un cierto carácter épico. La música de este "Death Gifted a Bouquet" esta repleta de interesantes e inesperados giros y lo que en momentos se puede identificar como shoegaze pronto da paso a estilos como el funeral doom, sin olvidarnos de secciones que tienen que ver con el black atmosférico. Todo el conjunto se encuentra rodeado de un aura de melancolía que se acentúa con la profundidad y la candencia de los momentos más doom del álbum, aspectos como el de las voces se han cuidado al detalle, registros profundos y desgarradores propios de estilos como el funeral doom se contraponen a las secciones en la cuales Meghan Wood (Crown of Asteria), entra en escena y lleva su música a terrenos más intensos y llenos de desesperación. La música logra imbuir al oyente en un ambiente casi que enfermizo y muy profundo, sonidos atmosféricos repletos de emociones como la soledad, el empleo de sintetizadores para remarcar la emotividad del conjunto y los cambios de ritmo que permiten transitar entre partes que languidecen en medio de la oscuridad a otras secciones mucho más directas, con un batería mucho más efectiva y presente pero que no rebaja la emotividad del conjunto. Nathan ha creado otra obra de sonido muy personal, con diferentes estilos e influencias perfectamente engranados, repleto de emotividad e intesidad. (8,3).

Flowing Downward

1. The Erotic Waltz 15:02

  The Elkmother speaks to me

She tells me many things

Of those without faith

Of the soul searching and the destitute

Those left scathing in the scuttles of time

Born of the heavens yet made to wander here

On this infernal plain of Abraham

Sitting alone by the fire, a nymph came to me

And spoke of her ancestors with a poisoned tongue

Now she rests by the pools of Bacchus

Indulged in the ecstasy of wine and erotica

Lest she will fall to even darker seductions

Only her descendants will know of her descent

Fortunes gifted by a mass of writhing tendrils

Eyes that gaze beyond the furthest horizons

I've been there, a lonesome blind pilgrim

I've traveled for far too long

And as I sit 'neath the firmament

I can almost see you dancing with all her daughters

In these flames that I will soon fall into

Where I will see you again

2. The Breadmaker's Daughter 12:40

  A dark wind blows

A woman gathers her clothes before the coming storm

Her curtains dance

She shouts her husband's name

To a plaguelike sky

Thunder rolls on by

Her daughter rests by the shoreline

A sun waits behind an iron armada

His gentle kiss blows away from her

When she sleeps, her mother curses the northern winds

A pasture, a well and the first harvest of the year

To dream is to die alone

To stay is to die inside

She could almost touch the color of the wheat

Before it faded into the grey

A man of oak stood next to her

A hand on her shoulder, she was beckoned into the night

The lantern has almost run out of oil

And the snow keeps getting deeper

The bread is burning over the hearth

And the wind keeps on howling

The mother of a fatherless child cries herself to sleep

And the void keeps on growing

3. The Little Deer 18:06

A dying fawn laughs And a new night comes To each their own, but I Was led my the fleeting bliss of youth A hearth lay empty Cold and flickering Waiting for a traveler to gather it Up into his arms The flight of those once made sacred A waste of futile existence Why tend to the flock if they all die anyways? From the calmest days, Shall you lead an uneasy kayak through the harshest storms And for you to rest only enrages her more Who am I to ease my suffering? To writhe in the snare, To carve marks into the bone Shall only appease the hunter more Or does it pity him, that he would starve without you Alas, the fawn slowly withers But not without the joyful weeping Of Saturn's rotten hand

4. The Withering Pyre 22:07

An October night howls and a cabin lay empty For the cold hands grasped her Not unlike a drafty attic in December Or a moth stuck in a cedar wardrobe Born from the black cube of Andromeda I have been given stigmata from Orion The great bear of the cosmos follows me As he searches for the lost twins of time In my hands, a knife from the forests For which I shall cleanse the waters 'round my home Death gifted me a bouquet That will silence the eternal blaze of the wood fire By these shores, we have called this cabin our home Do you remember the perfume of burning spruce and honey Or the gentle petrichoral whispers of the northern rain Would you give that up for your false idea of freedom? A skeleton wanders these empty fields In search of meaning He ignores the shrieks of gods Or the orgies of Saturn as they call his name Ages and ages have passed by these woods And yet, she lays awake wandering in these wastes A bent pine growing ever closer towards the night A whale howling to the evergloam As he vanished into the darkwood A moonlit burial ground Shards of glass fall from her neck And a child sings of a withering pyre

  01:07:55