Sacred

My first encounter with Maryland doom pioneer The Obsessed goes back many years - half a lifetime - when I scored its third official effort, 1994's The Church Within, at still thriving brick and mortar Montreal institution by name of Soundcentral - now situated amid hipster clogged plateau on rue Coloniale, for all you learned Québécois head bangers. Though I dug token sliver of material ("Streetside" is prime example, as well as relatable social condition), found it lacking, albeit with gut known surety these Old Line veterans hid an ace up their shredded, rum stained denim sleeve. In fact, it took decades for Scott "Wino" Weinrich's Potomac trio to exploit its dormant potential; namely, volume four in Sacred, released almost five years ago under Pennsylvanian titan of industry Relapse.

As diagnosed by colleagues below, this fluently convivial, forty-three minute dozen of hard-driven, quick-as-a-whip, thuggish units soon gets spiritual juices flowing with geriatric studio relic "Sodden Jackal", a front end lead pillar of an outlier ahead of steam powered pentatonic chin wag which includes congruous integration of Thin Lizzy's "It's Only Money" (distant relative of Raven's shrewd, ranting resistance piece against loathsome sugar daddy solicitation "Don't Need Your Money"). Besides elemental praise, agreed sentiment surrounding top heavy, compressive bulk is vetted in light of successive picadilloes, climax of which breaches phenomenal "Stranger Things" laboratorization (independent of science fictional geek television), rounded out by closing, numbers bound offshoot triptych casket sealed by fade to black "Interlude", sans Quaalude.

Morosely foreboding low gear rumination dissipates as soon as that soggy and damp opening cur flops down on bony haunches once breezy groove prevails in lauded "Punk Crusher". Thanks to its nimble old school Beastie Boys guitar riff, I can't help but relinquish control of extremities as psychic manifestations turned physical gyrations come home to roost. Front man/bassist Dave Sherman and his ruggedly concise loquation are exoplanet removed from slackly despondent, ruefully confrontational mad dog delivery within primeval, crustaceous magma surfer Earthride (besieged still by fanatic kingdom with parroted encore request). Lyrics aren't split into verses and refrains; instead, Sherman's rogue, tank-like word spew draws stylistic parallel to intelligently sophisticated and rhythmic urban hip-hop shy of juvenile wiggers' comical gangsta rapped posturizing this deep into third millennium, on cusp of Aquarian Age enlightenment.

Same applies to "Sacred" proper, a pure steel wool return to default leather booted roots for capital confederacy's brashly rollicking mortar and pestle chicanery, however cramped vocally. Alongside "Sodden Jackal", consider it page ripped from "Les Obsédés'" Stone Age playbook. A full-scale note-per-note rendition of lead choked (solo flown) Victor Griffin bonanza "Haywire" resurfaces next - evidence it's a small World down there in Uncle Sam's virtual gun belt paradise, as hordes of scene milling drifters, hangers-on and three grizzled river wolves overlap via chance or routine interaction.

With caracal out of the bag, we're strapped in for the bong haul as most everything begets commentary - word count be damned. Seldom employed synths imbue modernity to drum-ride saturated "Perseverance Of Futility", a slap-y breakbeat infused suture of clever quips emanating from Dave's sardonic trap. Touch factor supreme reigns on this funky, far from pale keeper. Kudos to recent Spirit Caravan stick wielder, Brian Costantino, for assuring original deviation and eclecticism to thorny rut-in-rainwater sludgy-ness, at risk of electric axe subjugation. Juggling balance between bass anchored support and sand flung vocals, Dave lets six-stringer Scott "grip the wheel" - reckon Earthride's super duper barnburner from 2010's Something Wicked, those well-aged Frederick fiends' heavily lain crown jewel, bearing besought comeback.

Sacred's spell gels on verge of instrumental midway "Cold Blood", a real infuriator as it forces vain dot connection with history's most metallic Thin Liz hit circa 1983, that speedy, ahead-of-its time, oft imitated polyester salt factory, "Cold Sweat". At least, a radio-friendly voyage forges on beyond frozen plasma in "Stranger Things", a very mellow and serene coming-of-age exploration which demonstrates The Big O's sanguine side order of peaceful mainstream infiltration. Cruising at six swift, seductive minutes, it also presages shape shifting gurus' common-place descent into wow-less predictability. Channeling Alice's Mister Nice Guy, I'll reward your patience by loosing Vulcan death grip on rubbed shoulder without neurotic short order tailgate party (hayseed tooth picker in "Razor Wire", "My Daughter, My Sons" - some reformed biker turned rutabaga farmer's family infatuation: a firm image of hazy sunset shone lemonade slurps whilst chair rocking 'till twilight on rickety backyard wooden porch, shadowed by loyal canine companion), lead charged lightning bolt "Be The Night" and brief stage bow noted ages ago!

Recycling prior disenchantment, even if The Obsessed took forever to deliver its compulsive load of goods, I'd internalized Wino's grey quiffed project upon dusty spin of "Tombstone Highway", off 1990's eponymous bluish flame leap. As proven, a single winning production, at minimum (alongside live action fulfillment, the penultimate goal for band folk), is enough to boost any minstrelsy catalog, regardless of lapse, trial or discrepancy. To sound of 2017's Sacred, this Chinook blown footman's prophesy found revelation. Wino's legacy fulfilled, we'd reached our none-too final destination.

The Obsessed are the missing link in American doom, by and large. Yes, there's missing links in their discography like all the musical development that occured between their self-titled album and Lunar Womb (albums that were released only a year apart but were actually recorded around 5 years apart), or the long period of silence they endured after Hellhound Records tanked in the late 90's (I think that was when anyway, but I can't find a great deal of info on that. An interview with Dan from Count Raven is the main source I have that shed any light on the situation with Hellhound). But more than obvious gaps like that, there's the subtler matter of how they fit into American doom. Trouble defined the musicianship, Saint Vitus the attitude, Iron Man/Force had the balls, Penance had the introspection, Solitude Aeturnus brought epic doom to our shores, and Pentagram oversaw it all. But Scott Wino's work in The Obsessed is totally overshadowed by a three-headed beast known as Born Too Late, Mournful Cries, and V, a beast of doom that Wino is the voice of. It's a shame really, because as much as I love Vitus' Wino trilogy, The Obsessed were, as I noted in my 100% review for Lunar Womb a year or so back, Wino doing what he really wanted to do from the bottom of his heart, and you even get that sense by listening to the Concrete Cancer demo from the 80's. And you know what else? "Sodden Jackal" was written as early as 1981 or 82, so tell me with a straight face that The Obsessed didn't define doom metal, too. So while, I generally like to avoid this term, 2017's Sacred is totally the "comeback album" from American doom's missing link.

And at last! We have a studio version of the aforementioned standard, "Sodden Jackal" opening up this long-awaited return, quite a Pentagram move if you ask me to record an old demo-only song for the new album, but doesn't that cement my point about The Obsessed being the missing link, that they have vault standards up their sleeve, too? Speaking of doom standards, we absolutely have to discuss the soulful and empowering title track of this album, which definitely goes to show just how distinct Wino is musically, because while it still rekindles the mysterious doominess of "Jaded" and "Neatz Brigade" from previous albums, it also wouldn't sound too strange on a Place of Skulls album, a project which Wino was only briefly involved in. Then of course there's the obligatory balls-out tracks like "Punk Crusher" which totally reminds me of if Saxon played trad doom. Weird comparison I know but doesn't the main riff sound like it could belong on Strong Arm of the Law?

I think "Perseverance of Futility" is another highlight here, despite it actually calming down a bit from the first few tracks, and it gives way nicely to that Thin Lizzy cover, which, bite me, totally belongs here. Now, normally I'd criticize the verse riff in "Perseverance" because it uses that kind of tri-tone progression that we know so well from Black Sabbath, which I see as kind of autopilot for traditional doom metal, but Wino's lyrics and vocals are just so emotive and passionate that I can't possibly knock it. On the flip side, however, Wino's guitar work on the instrumental "Cold Blood" is far more involved, and yet, this track is less effective. See, the issue I have with this track is that instrumentals for The Obsessed are redundant, when you consider the intricate riff passage that opens up songs like Lunar Womb's title track. Worse yet, that song is downright repetitive compared to Wino's usual riff arsenal.

But Sacred redeems itself with the curious track "Stranger Things", which is undeniably a more commercially accessible song but I don't give a damn because it's a banger. Moving verse, soulful chorus, an all around anthem that makes me proud to be a doom metal fan, because this song is so uplifting that it's crazy to think it's by a doom band. Now I won't lie, after "Stranger Things", is where the album drops off a bit. They stashed 3 deep cuts of acceptable doom/heavy metal at the very end before a pretty badass 30-second outro, but again you can't hate it when when you've just been hit by like four heavyweight doom metal slugs and like 3 balls to the wall rockers. Sort of like the cool down for Sacred you might say!

Is it a bit front-loaded and more commercial? Yeah, but those are nitpicks. Really, The Obsessed's fourth album, their comeback masterpiece, is an absolute triumph of 2010's doom from the US, along with Pentagram's Curious Volume and for that it gets a 90%. I really think along with the Pentagram album, this one totally puts The Sword and High on Fire in their place.

I'm hugely disappointed that my second favourite album of last year only has one review on the Metal Archives prior to this one, and that more people aren't ecstatic about what The Obsessed were able to achieve here. I mean, seriously, there are few doom metal bands that are able to give me this much of an ass-kicking without changing their moody character completely - plus this came on the back of a reformation, before which there were no albums from the group for more than 20 years. The update to The Obsessed's style is momentous, since what does one expect of an album on which Wino is the main songwriter? Something classic no doubt, almost certainly blues-influenced, and probably world-weary to match. However, Sacred makes it clear right from the start that the words “crushing” and “rampant” can be added to that list. Classic doom metal this may be, but boy do these songs make it sound relevant.

Wasting no time at all, the monstrous chugging depth of the first riff in 'Sodden Jackal' is a 21st century slap in the face for the listener’s preconceptions. The incredible weight of the bludgeoning riffs there is backed up by an onslaught of double bass in the chorus of 'Punk Crusher' and it takes the steadier title track to halt the relentless flow of adrenaline rushing through the listener. That said, the delicious overdriven licks on display during 'Sacred' are as haunting as the mythical lyrics, while the three tracks together constitute one of the strongest opening statements from doom in recent years. By this point in the listening experience, belief should be suspended, though I'm still left amazed at the confidence that oozes through the iconic one-note riffs in 'Perseverance of Futility' and the rampaging instrumental 'Cold Blood'. Here is an album much less predictable and sedate than the bandmembers’ ages might suggest, especially with Wino firing off squealing lead breaks at the slightest provocation.

It's true that Sacred slightly loses steam during 'Haywire' and 'My Daughter My Sons', though these constitute necessary moments of (relative) reflection in contrast to the scope of the action taking place around them. The manner in which the band are able to take things down a notch and almost instantly build up again gives these contemplative tracks a different feeling, though they only lose resonance when stacked up against the forcefulness of the surrounding metallic fury. That's probably the reason why Sacred feels so great and keeps bringing me back: the album has all the soul and playfulness of Lunar Womb, the natural timing and iconic ideas of Pentagram's Be Forewarned, and yet takes it to a higher level by virtue of the added power.

Despite the fact that most of the riffs are contained in the first half of the album, that merely emphasizes how superb those opening songs were, while later tracks such as 'Stranger Things' and the redneck joyride 'Razor Wire' are simply awesome to behold in their fluid progress and songwriting economy. It may seem uncalled for to call the six and a half minute 'Stranger Things' economic, yet the longest song on the album is a joy of natural structuring and pure intuitive sentiment. There is never a moment when anyone tries too hard - the verses rattle by on pure momentum alone - and the lyrics fit Wino’s toughened wisdom down to the ground. On the other hand, the shorter songs approach things from a more punky perspective, the raw howl suiting 'Razor Wire' and 'Punk Crusher' perfectly, cutting like a knife in contrast to the more relaxed moments.

Just how The Obsessed were able to make an album like Sacred at this juncture is a puzzling question, though it’s to the definite advantage of any fan of doom, hard rock, or heavy metal that they have done so. Always able to self-edit and create depth from brevity, 43 minutes becomes an ample length of time to sound weary and hopeless, wired and alive, and then stare into the moon for a bit, all the while showing the young dogs just how to make every riff and every song count. You can forget all about The Obsessed's debut, Wino's time in Saint Vitus, or any other projects he may have been involved in - this is the best music he's ever made. Stranger things, indeed.


Originally written in edited form for Metalegion #3 - www.metalegion.com

The release of The Obsessed’s fourth full-length album is rather odd when placed in the overall context of Wino’s long running career. It is the first record under that banner since 1994’s The Church Within, and while the legendary six-stringer has still put out acoustic material under his own name, this is the first heavy rock album he’s been involved with since Saint Vitus’s Lillie: F-65 in 2012. This is further complicated by this particular revival originally having been conceived as a Spirit Caravan reformation and the lineup changes that happened immediately after this recording was finished. Fortunately, Sacred is a lot easier to get into and much less confusing than the details surrounding it.

Wino’s many bands have their own unique flourishes, but they tend to abide by a particular biker doom template. The rhythms are downright danceable by doom standards, the tone is laid back but not too soft, the pacing occasionally goes into punk territory without being too abrasive, the riffs and guitar leads are as expressive as the vocals, and a bright desert tone serves as the grand unifier. The production may have more bottom end than Lunar Womb or The Church Within but there’s no denying that the songs are cut from the same cloth.

And with the songwriting on Sacred showing off Wino’s usual flowing jams, the results have a lot of variety. It’s tricky to tell what types of songs are the guitarist’s strongest suit given his jack of all trades nature, but they’re all enjoyable and cater to most tastes. The shorter bursts of energy like “Razor Wire” and “It’s Only Money,” the latter of which features bassist/vocalist Dave Sherman’s most prominent spot, weren’t unwise single choices but the album shines the most on its more drawn out tracks.

Longtime Obsessed fans are sure to appreciate the mid-tempo “Sodden Jackal” included as an opener and I’m a sucker for the title track’s subtle Shrinebuilder-esque guitar effects. “Stranger Things” is the most significant song thanks to its bookending acoustic work, memorable refrain, and almost tribal aesthetic. And while I’m normally not one to talk about bonus tracks, I have to ask why “Crossroader Blues” isn’t included as analbum track; that main riff is one of the grooviest things Wino has ever come up with!

Whether Sacred should’ve been released as The Obsessed or a Spirit Caravan album, there’s no denying that it’s as fun and energetic as you’d expect from one of the leading fixtures of downer rock. Wino fans will know what to expect as the stoner jams, punk trips, and all the riffs in between fit right into his unshakeable legacy. It’s tricky to speculate where he’ll go from here but he’ll stay as prolific and welcome as ever.

Highlights:
“Sodden Jackal”
“Sacred”
“Haywire”
“Stranger Things”
“My Daughter My Sons”

Originally published at http://indymetalvault.com