Word of Sin

The Abbey are a new band gathering together current and former members of Finland’s gothic and extreme metal royalty, including singer/guitarist/keyboard player and main songwriter Jesse Heikkinen (ex-Hexvessel), singer Natalie Koskinen (Shape of Despair) and Vesa Ranta (ex-Sentenced) on drums. Bass player Henri Arvola and guitarist Janne Markus (Poisonblack) complete the line-up. As a fan of many of the aforementioned acts, the line-up immediately caught my interest as I felt compelled to check out the band’s debut record, Word of Sin, which came out earlier this year via Season of Mist.

When I first put on the CD, I was not quite sure what to expect in terms of the album’s sonic coordinates, but I knew the journey would be gloomy. In that respect, Word of Sin doesn’t disappoint, thanks to its crawling doom tempos, dark atmospheres and melancholy vocals. What I was not expecting, however, was the strong influence of 1970s hard psych / prog rock, which is plastered all over this album, from the acid fuzzy guitars and swathes of Hammond and Mellotron that dominate the soundscape, to the vocal harmonies that play with subtle dissonance to recreate the vibe of 60s/70s psychedelia choirs. The languid, litany-like melodies and hazy production further emphasize the psychotropic quality of the songs on display here, delivering a tasteful slab of occult, doom-laden psych rock overall.

One may argue that the combination of melancholic atmospheres and lysergic vibes is not exactly unheard of – and at times Word of Sin does fly a tad too close to its psych rock influences, to the point that songs like opener “Rat King” and “Queen of Pain” may come across as almost mere exercises in style. The album fares much better when The Abbey allow themselves more freedom with both the songwriting and choice of sonic palette. “Widow’s Will” and “Old Ones: Prequel” surprised me with their throwback to the 1990s classic Scandinavian goth metal aesthetics, offering an interesting mid-album change of style compared to the preceding psych rock numbers. “Desert Temple” and “Old Ones” take instead intriguing detours into instrumental parts and tasteful solos, adding a touch of diversity to the songwriting.

Ultimately, despite its limitations, one can say that Word of Sin accomplishes what it sets out to do: putting The Abbey firmly on the map as an act that may equally entice occult psych rock aficionados and more traditional doom/gothic metallers. Straddling across genres and musical eras (from 1960s to 1990s) is no easy feat. While on Word of Sin the band succeed only at times in delivering a compelling portrait of their musical imagination, when they do manage to combine interesting songwriting with convincing atmospheres (“Widow’s Will”, “Desert Temple”, “Old Ones”), the results are engrossing, and make me look with anticipation to the Finns’ sophomore album.

Hey, do you think the members in The Abbey like Ghost at all? The group’s debut album certainly feels like a reflection of those famous ghouls along with others like Year of the Goat and The Night Eternal, boasting similarly extravagant layers of heavy instrumentation supplemented by theatrical choirs and keys. The vocalist even sounds like everybody’s favorite satanic pope right down to a similarly androgynous tenor.

However, Word of Sin has enough going on to keep the band from feeling like a total copycat. The guitars are more involved with a heavier tone and aggressive chugs while the slower pacing reflects the members’ collective backgrounds in gothic metal and funeral doom. In this sense, the album feels more like a darker reflection of Infestissumam or Meliora that doubled down on esoteric occultism rather than the poppier pursuits we ended up with.

While that framing makes for a less overtly catchy listening experience, a good ear for melodicism and careful arrangements ensures quality songs shine through. “Rat King” starts off well with a crunchy stomp that transitions into a proggy stop-start rhythm and a faster escalation while “Crystallion” and “Starless” are driven by more methodical builds that play into those echoing cathedral vibes. Things really get going halfway through with the more uptempo “Desert Temple” and “Queen of Pain” serving up an almost bouncy waltz. I can also appreciate the closing “Old Ones” exercise an epic atmosphere and doom crawl well enough to justify that twelve-minute length.

Overall, The Abbey establishes its occult doom theatrics with gusto on Word of Sin. Comparisons to Ghost are inevitable with its similar priorities but its less poppy attitude can also make it more interesting to more jaded listeners. As much as I find myself wishing the pacing or overall length was a bit tighter, the musicianship reflects a great deal of polish with plenty of care put into the arrangements. Considering how Ghost started out in a similar ‘of its influences’ setup, it’s easy to imagine an even more unique identity being realized with more finetuning.