Kev Rowland
I live in New Zealand, a country with incredible landscapes and wonderful people, which in terms of geothermic activity is also fairly active. All kiwis enjoy going to the multiple places where it is possible to swim in thermally heated water or have been to Hot Water Beach and dug spa pools in the sand, and when it comes to earthquakes, we all think we’re experts. Since moving to Aotearoa in 2006 there have been three major quakes, two of which caused loss of life, but generally when we feel a quake we have discussions as to how big it was and how far away, and then all check the GeoNet app on our phones to see how close we were. Why do I mention this? It’s just because I am sure the tectonic plates often move more quickly than these guys. Slow by name, slow by nature, this is funeral doom where Déhà can strike a chord, and while the strings are still resonating he can go to the bar, order a drink, and still have plenty of time to strike the next one. On top of that, this atmospheric music is unbelievably heavy yet although we can all feel the weight of the music all around is, it is somehow never unbearably oppressive.
For many years Slow were just Déhà (all instruments), and this is the first album where someone else has been involved, Lore (lyrics, concepts, bass, vocals (backing), arrangements). Between them they have created something which is majestic, all-encompassing, doom which has also contains huge elements of atmospheric black metal as if Burzum and Sabbath have gone somewhere and recorded at quarter speed. That somewhere had to be a cave in Scandinavia, in the winter, music like this has no business at all coming out of Belgium. Play this to the powers that be in Brussels and the EU would collapse like the house of cards it undoubtedly is.
Any slower and this band would be going backwards, any heavier and the music would never get up off the floor. Perfect music to listen to in the dark of the night, outside with headphones on, looking up at the stars with a drink in hand. Majestic.