Reverend Bizarre are so doomy they almost make the Peaceville stuff sound like a cheery, whimsical romp through a day-glo playground in comparison. This Finnish band plays traditional doom that compares well to genre pioneers like Trouble, Witchfinder General and Candlemass. Or rather, they used to. This, their third release, is also their swansong, for the band is now defunct. And ‘So Long Suckers’ is a great epitaph.

The songs on this double album are generally very long, often stopping just short of 30 minutes, de-tuned marathons of bleak, leaden Sabbath-y riffs with occasional bursts into what wouldn’t be called speed in any other genre of metal. The vocals are deep, dramatic and clean, often following the riff very closely in classic doom fashion. And the despair isn’t just a matter of form – there are moments in the albums, such as the impassioned delivery halfway through ‘One Last Time’ that could physically weigh you down with their bleak impact. ‘Sorrow’ is another epic track that serves as Dante-like descent to the depths of depression, while featuring a break into one of the faster passages on the album. ‘They Used Dark Forces/Teutonic Witch’ delves into occult themes, and seems to derive its subject mater from a Dennis Wheatley novel about Nazis engaging in supernatural warfare.

‘Caesar Forever’ again tackles a more epic, martial theme, featuring a heroic chorus that should be studied by all those power metal bands who keep trying to write national anthems for Middle-earth nations. It also deviates from the proudly stripped-down approach on most of these songs, with just a touch of a chordal keyboard backing to enhance the sound. ‘Anywhere Out Of This World’ features an especially drawn-out, minimalistic intro, as if to compensate, and then launches into one of the more thunderous riffs on the album, although the order of the day here continues to be slow despair, and the status quo is soon re-established. This song also features a beautifuly elegiac passage halfway through, which reprises the bass intro with drum backing and tastefully-placed acoustic chords, and a vocal delivery that sounds like it’s being crooned by some unholy spawn of Nick Cave and Ian Curtis (paging Doctor Frankenstein).

This is such an uncompromisingly doomy album that I wouldn’t feel confident recommending it to anyone who doesn’t already have an affinity for the genre, and a couple of hours to spare, in a very calm and quiet room. If the lights are dim and the room rather cold, so much the better. This isn’t music for trendy posers who want something with lovelorn lyrics and some accessible keyboard hooks to wow the chicks with – it’s the real doom deal: dark, somnabulistic and solemn. In the interests of mental balance and cognitive dissonance, I’d suggest you listen to it back-to-back with the new Municipal Waste album.

Year of Release: 2007
Label: Spikefarm Records