Demo 2005

This must have been the biggest news coming out of the French doom metal microcosm in this Spring 2023: the official return of Inborn Suffering, one of the bands that contributed the most to make said microcosm known outside of its home country. Oh, but we'd seen it coming, mind you. As soon as, the year before, they'd remastered and re-released a handful of physical copies of their original demo from 2005, followed a few days later by an alternate version of their debut Wordless Hope, it was obvious there was something in the air. For now, let's lend a virgin ear to this remastered demo, having never heard the original.

Back to 2005. To be clear, Inborn Suffering didn't create anything; if you were looking for innovation in the early 2000s French doom metal scene, you'd have been better off turning to the likes of, let's say, Anthemon, who never got the success they deserved, or to their more extreme offspring Monolithe, who eventually managed to garner their own international fame. What Inborn Suffering did was just, taking the special brand of death/doom metal popularized by My Dying Bride and revitalized by Draconian at the turn of the Century, bringing it to France and acclimating it to the local ears; that was already something, enough to make them stand out.

Perhaps, back then, they hadn't introduced the most obvious Draconian-isms which the year after will give its final polish to their debut album, that is, the violin and guest female vocalist. Still these highly melodic guitar leitmotivs, these ominous atmospheric keyboards, these loud and low piano chords closing the final track, all tell too well where they're coming from. That was quiet death/doom metal from the beginning, they never tried to pretend otherwise; that didn't make the despair fuelling it less sincere, and no doubt it was never more sincere than on this seminal recording. In all its naked truth, it already featured what would become the most remarkable songs on the debut(1), a concentrate of what Inborn Suffering did best in the first half of their single-decade-long existence – to be topped later by their massive sophomore Regression to Nothingness, when they finally stopped playing quiet, but that's another story.

Any band starting with a track like Monolith – nothing to do with that other band mentioned above – had to be taken seriously anyway. Don't be fooled by the acoustic guitars, they're only there for the obligatory gothic touch, the same way this depressive spoken break will later be. Otherwise it will crush, and it will crush quietly, which may be even more cruel. The skills were already impressive, especially considering most of the musicians weren't much experienced back then – the real exception being perhaps harsh vocalist Loïc Courtete, who'd already officiated with various Breton metal bands, including a Heol Telwen of great promises but unfortunately short discography... same as Inborn Suffering, in fact.

As I Close my Eyes, amongst the three tracks, may be the one differing the most from the later Wordless Hope version, yet lacking what will be its most distinctive element, the lamenting violin; but what it still had to gain in faint melancholy it compensated with a more aggressive approach to the guitars, both rhythm and leads. Similarly, the eponymous Inborn Suffering reveals its whole devastating power in this rawer milling, where every riff is another nail in a coffin, only that's your coffin, Dear Listener, and the fact the looping lead guitar / grand piano conclusion works also as the general conclusion makes the package even more desperate. Let's guess the only reason why the guys didn't kill themselves right after was because they already had a full album in the works, and shall you laugh, please first remember we're dealing with a band astutely playing with the clichés of the genre, thus there's no reason not to add a few extra ones from our side.

Of course we've got to keep in mind it's a remastered work; no doubt they used the contemporary technology to add some extra punch to the original mix. But it was done cleverly enough to keep most of the primary authenticity, the raspy tone of the guitars, the hazy keyboards, the muffled drums, the coarse voice coming from far behind, contributing together to build the atmosphere of suffocating mystery they were aiming at. In the end, Inborn Suffering have so far perfectly succeeded in their teasing strategy: quickly revamping a handful of old tunes and selling them with the appropriate publicity to a few chosen ones worldwide was enough to remind us of how solid they were, and make eagerly wait for the next album... which isn't even recorded yet.

Highlight: Monolith.

(1) I know it lacks Thorn of Deceit. Please don't play with words.