Artist: The Wounded Kings
Album: The Shadow Over Atlantis
Type: Album
Label: I Hate Records

Christ, if I was the head of any other record label handling doom metal as a speciality, I’d be tempted to give up the fight. Ihate records continue to travel from triumph to triumph, seemingly signing brilliance with the regularity that I take big, sweaty dumps*. Happily, the Wounded Kings hail from our very own England, which seems to be having a resurgence of quality doom metal bands over the last couple of years, and it’s a massive personal pleasure to find Ihate plundering our isles for talent.

“The Shadow Over Atlantis” is an occult tinged, dreamlike work of doomy ambience. The guitars, here delay drenched and fuelled with the psychedelic tones of a bad trip make this a direct descendent of the likes of Black Widow, Coven and lesser known acts like Nosferatu, channelled through the prototypical metal filters of Black Sabbath. This dream like quality is not consigned to the guitar tone. Instead, every pore of the album is in a kind of half-forgotten haze – from the distant sounding clean vocals with clear similarities to Johan Lanquist on the “Epicus, Doomicus, Metallicus” opus, to the slow, half-awake pace of the tracks themselves. “Baptism of the Ancients” (the second and best track of the album) epitomises the album with swirling, serpent like guitar melodies swimming in the mist of the music, not unlike the ebbs and tides of the oceans themselves.

As the name of the album would suggest, this is principally a concept album regarding the lost continent so beloved of Plato, and the watery theme is perfectly reflected in the fluid nature of the music. Now, I am usually a self-confessed fan of the power of the riff, but this is an album less concerned with the nuts and bolts mechanics of doom rather than the atmosphere and ambience of things-now-lost, with a natty grasp of dynamics and instrumentalism. As the tides swirl, so too does the ferocity of the more metalized aspects of the music, while at other times, simple haunting piano tones dominate, transporting the listener to other times and places.

The bottom line then is this; don’t buy this album expecting a riff-laden wig out to get your bell bottoms and pre-faded classic rock logo infected T-shirt moving too. This isn’t what the Wounded Kings are about. Put this CD on, dim the lights and indulge yourself in whatever indulgences you prefer – and be transported to the dream-lands of unknown Atlantis – no magical experience necessary.

http://www.myspace.com/thewoundedkings2

Chris Davison
*Once a day, usually in the morning, 0930-1000

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