French doom quartet Monolithe formed in 2001 as a side project of symphonic doom metal act Anthemon. Later on, however, it became a full-time band after the latter band split up in 2007. Hence the album's title, this is the fourth piece within the group's collection, and it demonstrates how artistic and engaging doom metal can truly be.
For starters, the musicianship is stellar. The vocals are very deep and gruesome in their sound, while the guitars perform majestically depressive and slow riffs and melodies. The drums are slowly paced too, but nonetheless very potent in how explosive they sound with each hit. The synthesizer is very good as well, adding lots of ominous and eerie effects, such as a haunting choirs and orchestra in the background, to increase the album's sense of drama and power.
On top of the great instrumentation, the production is wonderfully done as well. In fact, if there is just one word to describe the overall sound of this record, it would be 'huge.' The atmosphere is unbelievably vast, and it knows how to grab and immerse you into its mordant world. The mixing makes the album sound theatrical, haunting, and all-around engaging, making it yet another element that makes this album so enjoyable.
This album is composed of only one song, but it lasts for nearly an hour. This is obviously a large risk, because if the track lacks enough buildup for one for its genre, it would be disastrously boring. Fortunately, "Monolithe IV" is the antithesis of that pitfall. This is probably helped by the fact that Monolithe has already released one-track albums that seemed to have hit the crowd hard, and it certainly shows here. The buildup is borderline perfect, and the record an excellent amount of memorability and atmosphere to make it quite difficult for listeners to turn away from its slow and sheer gloom. It admittedly does start to lose a little steam towards the end, but that is nowhere near enough to faze this masterfully dark record. It's incredibly well-built.
"Monolithe IV" is overall nothing short of a powerful depressive doom metal release. Every aspect of it is not only done right, but it is done better than many other bands of the same caliber. Any fans of the genre are highly recommended to this album, and it may even serve well as a gateway album for doom metal newcomers if they have the patience for its length. This is funeral/death-doom at some of its finest, and this is truly an album where you should get lost, but in a good way.
Originally posted on: http://metaljerky.blogspot.com/
Monolithe is the long-winded project of multi-instrumentalist Sylvain Bégot, who serves as the band's creative linchpin; the mastermind, if you will. I say long-winded because each of Monolithe's previous three full length albums consist of a single track, each at over fifty minutes, and “Monolithe IV” is no different, being a single fifty-seven minute track. If you're new to Monolithe's brand of music, then you should expect to be thrown through the ringer, as they have truly tapped into something special; a skull crushing, all-enveloping kind of special. The most concise description I've been able to conjure for Monolithe is funeral doom minus the funeral elements. Their music is slow and crushingly heavy yet remarkably uplifting at times and always containing an air of implicit progressiveness.
The previous Monolithe albums supposedly deal with the origins of mankind and this album is no different, continuing to delve into the purported mystery of life. Whereas “Monolithe III” was a massive stone rock formation, as immensely heavy and unwavering as an ancient obelisk, “Monolithe IV” feels more organic and fluid, with constant waves of mind numbing heaviness countered by retreating atmospheric soirees. Much like the fluidity of the tides, this album showcases a constant and unrelenting shifting between crashing and ebbing. Perhaps the strongest aide in the organic structure of this album is the addition of female vocals, courtesy of Emma Elvaston (Evolvent), in the form of high register, choral oohs and aahs (that sound almost like keyboard patches, for the most part). These female vocals provide a strong counterpoint to the deep, gravel-layered vocals of Richard Loudin, which appear sporadically throughout the fifty-seven minute run time (but always when the doom is falling). Vocally, I find myself especially enthralled with the breathy, whispered line “nothingness” at around the sixteen minute mark, as the music is slowly reaching towards a lofty apex.
I've always felt that Monolithe, despite their skull squeezing heaviness, have had more than their share of uplifting moments and this album continues that trend. This is mostly due to the soaring nature of the guitar lines, as evidenced around eighteen minutes in. The guitar lines utilize a simplistic and repetitive progression that, excuse my purple prose for a moment, just feels like tendrils reaching towards the sky. These moments are definitely sprinkled throughout: while the music is firmly rooted in powerful slowness, these lofty chord progressions reach through the dirge and into the audible daylight. The heavy riffs are slower than slow. I would call it a snail's pace if snails were a more destructive animal. Maybe an elephant would be more fitting: a crushingly weighty and lumbering beast that can destroy anything in its path.
Basically “Monolithe IV” can be seen as the crashing and ebbing of extremely heavy doom Metal and moments of serene, almost regal quietude. Just listen to the growing transition at about twenty-three minutes, when a piano line begins to creep into focus as the guitars, bass and drums begin to fade away; slowly gaining a foothold before fully enveloping you what almost sounds like a lullaby. This builds into a doom death section which fades again, this time nurturing an almost Arabesque feel as the doom elements fade out. The entire fifty-seven minute performance is like that, though; moments of destructively slow bludgeoning followed by atmospheric dirges, repeated. The organic fluidity of “Monolithe IV” allows everything to just flow along without sounding disjointed or jarring. Take the progressive meddling around thirty-six minutes, for example, which shows melodic guitar lines, heavier than though drumming and the grumbling vocals. This seamlessly builds into a progressive rock styled segment, with melodic twining guitars and a rollicking drum pattern without missing a beat. The doom just continues to attack your eardrums in waves for the remainder of the album, with more crushing riffs, graveled vocals and even some organ patterns lurking underneath the heaviness, which give just another dash of that organic feel to the album.
Once again, the band utilizes a drum machine to provide the backbone. While the drum programming is solid, it sounds very cold and mechanical, especially with the organic feel of the rest of the music. I can't help but wonder how much Monolithe could be helped by the presence of a real live drummer. Even though the drum programming is somewhat varied, the offering feels extremely limited. I know Funeral doom is not usually full of fast paced rolls and blast beats, but it wouldn’t hurt to add some variety in the way of a living person. The production is somewhat stronger this time around as well, with the guitar lines being more prominent and forward in the mix. The rhythm section, while more towards the rear, still sounds solid and punishing enough for my liking and keeps from being washed out by the rest of the heavy handed instrumentation.
It should go without saying that you have to be in the right frame of mind to fully appreciate Monolithe's music. I suggest giving this album time to fully sink in as the rewards are more than abundant. As you can tell, this is a vastly different beast than the rifftastic “Monolithe III” but it matches the high standard set by the band. This is more organic and more alive than before but it is still towering and dauntingly heavy. There aren't many acts that can match the crushing heaviness of Monolithe. Progressive funeral doom metal minus the kitsch that makes a lot of funeral doom so silly. This is soul enveloping, bone crushing heaviness from the French masters of long-winded doom metal. If you have never listened to Monolithe before, I would suggest starting with “Monolithe III” and then branching to this album, as “Monolithe IV” is more mature and texturally dense, so it takes a little longer to completely click, but it is entirely worth your time.
Written for The Metal Observer:
http://www.metal-observer.com/