Moss – Underground Ritual, Live in Camden (20.08.2010)

By now I am sure everyone who visits this blog is aware of our complete juxtapositional love for music. At one end of the spectrum we share our love for something as bright and beautiful as maudlin of the Well through to the the serene tones of Angelo Badalamenti, anything that acts to relax and calm. The darker end of the spectrum invariably includes music designed and preoccupied with making you feeling completely distressed and unnerved, ruffled feathers and paranoid psychosis (see Scott Walker for something to fall asleep too). Moss are a form of the latter. The Southampton based trio’s approach revolves around the concept of playing their instruments at an incredibly detuned, decelerated, imperceptibly slow rate. The destiny of the slug. Like Earth shattering into a nightmare, think inordinately heavy doom imbrued with the cacophonous reverb of Black Metal. Shrieks and wails from the far corner of the cave as the doom, the dull ever-revolving mass of primeval earth, plods along to its eternally returning purpose.

The Underground Ritual was an EP that found its way into the hands of the original founding fathers of Moss, circulated with the initial 115 copies of Cthonic Rites (115 marking the anniversary of the birth of HP Lovecraft). One long, 25 minute track that howls of reverberation, distortion and largely guitar focused sound with both the drums and vocals taking backseat. Remember how we told you we would never post a live recording that overshadowed a band, or portrayed them in the wrong light? Well this is Moss down to a tee, performing their voidal doom invoked drone to the very limits of humanly conceivable horror. Another excellent audial interpretation of what shock and fear Lovecraft might have invoked during his time here on earth, if you have never heard Moss – the time has arrived.

Moss knows the gate. Moss is the gate. Moss is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Moss. They know where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. They know where They have trod earth’s fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread.

You'll find me in the vast wilderness of British Columbia, talking metal at LURKER, or working in publishing and front-end web/eBook development.

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