Through Dark Veils

As years go by, Draconian clone could almost become an official subgenre of atmospheric death/doom metal on its own. This time, our candidate to the title is called Shattered Sigh, from Spain. Not so far away, in France, we once had our national pride Inborn Suffering, of which this album shares many similarities with, though a direct influence is unlikely, Inborn Suffering having been declared dead for ten years now. That's one point, actually – Shattered Sigh records, in 2022, music which felt already past its prime in 2012.

But who really cares whether the recipe is new as long as it's well crafted. These guys know their scales for sure. Nothing is lacking; neither the passionate, deep growls of the eternal struggling poet nor the desperate cleans to counter them; neither the big, fat and slow doom riffs nor the whiny melodic leads to counter them; neither the I-buried-everyone lyrics nor the grey-and-white artwork to complement them. Not even the little touch of female vocals (Grave for the Innocence, Last Damnation), nor the mandatory grand piano; this latter being used rarely as a solo instrument, but much more often as a friendly companion to the guitars it tops with low-end melodies and chords. This recurring piano may explain why, in spite of its overall slow pace, loud gloomy bass, and priority given to harsh vocals, the work as a whole doesn't strike as particularly heavy.

Originality being a complete non-factor, and instrumental virtuosity being mostly irrelevant to the genre, it will thus be all about the atmosphere. The contract is fulfilled here. Don't expect anything too crushing, suffocating, though. Again, it's not heavy enough. Prepare to experience, instead, the subtle melancholy of a rainy autumn day. Typically the kind of album which, when you're young, may inspire you some poetry, or, when you're older, makes you reflect over your bygone youth. Be ready to open the soft spot in your heart – because, come on, everyone has to keep a soft spot in the heart.

Of course, under these conditions trying to single out particularisms for every song makes little sense. Think of it as a soundtrack rather than an album. The few times it tries to deviate if only by an inch from the pre-established formula, it immediately sounds awkward, like with these distorted screams towards the end of Campfire Over my Grave (this title!). Two pieces, still, are worth a mention. The first is The Desert I've Created, which after an unusually upbeat start develops the leitmotiv it's build around into a minimalist, hypnotic middle part. Grave for the Innocence, with its vocal duet and melancholic piano, comes next: once you've accepted to express your softer self, there's no reason to feel ashamed going for the softest of the soft; and let's admit the song does a good job keeping enough heavy breaks to prevent itself from falling into complete mellowness. Funnily perhaps, if I've pulled the Draconian comparison before, the main riff here sounds instead like a total rip-off from early Swallow the Sun.

I still have to figure out how exactly a shattered sigh could sound like, by the way.

Highlights: The Desert I've Created; Grave for the Innocence.