Wordless Hope

[Old review from 2007, slightly refreshed and updated in March 2021]

They all look so uneasy, on this photograph on the back cover of the booklet. So out of place, and so shy. As if, as they’re playing in a metal band, they had to wear black T-shirts, they had to cross their arms and show a fierce attitude, and they had to have long hair – but had someone given them the choice, they surely wouldn’t have. Oh, and they all look pretty young, as well.

But Inborn Suffering came here to play doom metal, you know, not to pose on a clumsy and quickly forgotten photograph. Yes, this band looks rather amateurish at first glance. Yes, the titles (The Agony Within, Inborn Suffering, The Affliction Corridor...) as well as the lyrics exclusively revolving around sorrow and despair are long-time clichés of the genre. Yes, they only had released one demo before this album, and the few other bands some of the musicians are involved in all remain anecdotal. But Wordless Hope is interesting precisely because, against the appearance, it displays an impressive level of mastery. It IS clichéd, but it’s good cliché nonetheless. Just like a good, traditional meal taken at a little, unknown country inn can be fully enjoyable, even if it still can’t stand the comparison with Paul Bocuse’s works. Pardon the culinary metaphor, Dear Reader, but we’re in France, here.

So Inborn Suffering plays, on their debut, a melodic brand of atmospheric gothic/doom metal showing a clear predominance of growled vocals, reminiscent of early Draconian, who were pretty much the heralds of the genre at the times the album was recorded. The guys weren’t ashamed of it, by the way, explicitly citing the band as influence. However, an even more fitting comparison would be with their fellow-countrymen of Anthemon and their rich, crushing, almost grandiloquent atmospheric/experimental doom metal. Oddly, Inborn Suffering seems to never have heard of Anthemon... and both bands will have disappeared less than ten years later.

Now if Draconian was the Paul Bocuse of slow-leitmotivs-based doom metal, Inborn Suffering appeared like a gifted apprentice. They may lack the polished simplicity of the Swedish act, at times giving the impression of not exactly knowing where they’re heading to, but the overall highly melancholic atmosphere they achieved to create redeems most of the occasional blunders. The riffs, or leitmotivs, sound most of the time inspired, though they can’t totally escape the occasional fall into easiness. Like with this lead guitar at the end of The Agony Within for instance, which sounds directly copied from Agalloch, the mandatory atmospheric band – hey, another influence explicitly cited here. Further, the closing instrumental is the usual boring piano-and-flute stammering all the second-rate gothic/doom acts feel forced to include to their desperately flat works, while Stygian Darkness reeks of My Dying Bride in their less inspired moments – on a sidenote, the occasional clean vocalist sounds all throughout the release a bit too much like an annoyingly whiny Aaron Stainthorpe. But for the rest this album remains not only pleasant, but captivating.

Because the guys know the recipe incredibly well, even if none of the ingredients is new. But they’re all present: the oppressive guitars, the grand piano, the atmospheric backing keyboard, the violin, the respectably lengthy songs, the occasional female vocals. Not in the same amount in every track but this isn’t a bad thing, as it confers a distinctive personality to each of them. Once having eliminated the mediocre Stygian Darkness and The Affliction Corridor, each of the six remaining dishes rank from good to excellent. Dealing with the “good” we got This Is Who We Are, a standard, suffocating eleven minutes long opener with no excessive flourish, even if the choice of precisely such a track as a first piece is a tad questionable, as it highly risks asphyxiating all the following songs. However it works quite well, all the more it is followed by the eponymous Inborn Suffering, a tad faster and exhibiting a beautiful, haunting ending.

But the two pinnacles of this album are without contest the third and seventh tracks. So, Monolith! This song well deserves its name. Don’t let the gentle acoustic opening fool you, as it’s for sure a dark, crushing piece. Impeccably constructed; no useless wandering here, finally, the musicians fully know where they’re going – and that’s straight ahead to the cemetery – Monuments in the misty horizon / A pale figure shows me the way / There’s no return from the silent sea – to meet their mentors from Draconian, who wouldn’t have been ashamed of having written such a song. Even better is Thorn of Deceit. We can suppose the guys had some fun writing this track, the only one exhibiting female vocals, as well as blastbeats, and French lyrics. The girl might not sound exactly professional, to stay polite; her intervention doesn’t sound less refreshing. The ultimate paradox being the strength of the piece track resides only in ONE main tune, repeated with numerous variations. Alright, once again Draconian did it before. So what?

To conclude on a lighter note after this couple of mammoth songs, let’s just mention the dwarf lost amongst the giants, the short (5:30) As I Close my Eyes, which with its plaintive violin ranks amongst my favorites as well – precisely because it’s not as heavy as the other tracks, thus bringing a welcomed relief while remaining more than a simple anecdote. That’s the whole album which proved to be more than a simple anecdote, actually. They all looked so uneasy, on this photograph on the back cover of the booklet. Well, it isn’t really surprising, now.

Highlights: Monolith, As I Close my Eyes, Thorn of Deceit