Soul Sacrifice

When one looks back upon this band’s amazing decade of history and evolution, it is arguably Soul Sacrifice which strikes the listener most as the essential signifier that hints of Cathedral’s prowess for profound change. Essentially Soul Sacrifice is the first recording which gave the world inherent signs that Cathedral were more than just a foundational doom act. Indeed, it is through the self titled re-recorded track from their debut full of soupy melancholic dirges, “Forest of Equilibrium”, that we first hear what
profound changes have occurred.

Soul Sacrifice veritably rolls, slides and shakes with a tremulous doom-laden exultation in celebratory mourning. It is also noticeably more upbeat and bouncing than its predecessor, though with that slithering ‘mad-moon’ vibrancy that could only be Cathedral. Lee’s vocals has shed its harsh ‘deathish’ feel and have transmogrified slightly into a much more bizarre, twisted and writhing kind of beast which is half singing and half growling. This vocal uniqueness combined with the triad of Gary Jennings (Guitars) Adam Lehan (Guitars) and Mark Griffiths (Bass) weave a sound
which is tumblingly heavier, albeit less sludgy and mournful than previous efforts. However, the spasmodic schizoid nature of the re-recording of Soul Sacrifice is indeed a sacred blessing, its themes of tortured lost love and self-reproachment not missing any of its original integrity. Listen to the shrill cries of its trills and fills to see what I mean....

The second track, “Autumn Twilight” is definitely an example of a new avenue for Cathedral riffage, with its soothing, opiate, melodic leads and NWOBHM edge. It is a melancholic number which although lacking in the sheer dark groove of Soul Sacrifice, creates a vivid portrayal of natural images as symptomatic of pleasure from pain. Its chorus of “Here in autumn twilight,
morphia cursed delight!” continues the love affair with dark intensity and genuine feeling. Mark Wharton’s thundering rumbles and fills further illuminate an oddly heavy yet bitter-sweet tune which ends in a fascinating Sabbath rending tempo change. Aesthetically and musically, it perhaps isn’t as doomy as “Soul Sacrifice”, yet it has this intangible feeling of tragedy and emptiness that carries a sense of mystique and beauty.

Thirdly, comes the wonderfully rhapsodical nod at their past, “Frozen Rapture”, a heavy doom ballad in every sense. Each and every note contorts and squirms with a ubiquitous despondence, casting feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness to a magical ode to a giver of affection. Simply stated, its theme seems to revolve around the cold inactive want and hunger for love whilst somehow feeling unworthy and constantly isolated. Towards its dark mesmerising hollow conclusion, lurks a surprising tempo-change which alters the mood of the song only briefly, guided by the usage of a cow-bell as a percussive instrument. But then we are left to fade with the deep resonant
drawn out vocal of “Torchlight never shines upon my isolation”. I would imagine that this tune would keep the proverbial ‘doom freak’ quite happy; binary be thus refuted!

Finally, we have the utter doom riff marathon, (a whopping eight minutes worth) entitled “Golden Blood (Flooding)”. Throughout its thick array of symphonic low-end riffage quite similar to Soul Sacrifice’s devilry, we are taken aback somewhat by the interspersed angelic keyboard and acoustic guitar, an experiment which works eerily well and fits the subject matter of altered consciousness. But after the second chorus, its onwards and doomwards to much riff-amonic and vocal ecstasy, underscored by the
thematic focus of alcoholic indulgence and the strange sense of shattered inhibition which follows such activities. Gaz and Adam during this song simply go insane with the tumultuous variety of riffs which spew forth, each as frothingly heavy and magical as the last. It is quite difficult to track the tempo changes accurately, thus I could imagine the difficulty one might have in repeating this song live. However, there is one divinely slow period which is emphasised by the cackling gibbering of one of Dorrian’s pervasive moans, which is on one hand very amusing, but on the other, downright disturbing. Other gorgeous tidbits include the insertion of lowly, yet ecstatically uttered
words such as the earthy Frostish chorus of ‘heeyy! and the vehement c’mon!, which signals the finale to this riff-fest.

Spectacle of severity,
Chasing myself away from me,
Velvet wings of vibrancy,
Elevate this bane from me. (Plus two more unintelligible syllables?...)

As it abruptly ends, the wonder of how something can be so deliciously heavy, worthy of a kind of transcendental tribal dance, yet be so doomy and soulful at the same time, may fill the individual with awe.
Such notions are reason enough to place this little gem on repeat in your stereo.
(Originally posted to Terry Parr's Cathedral Coven...By Rob Bailey)