According exclusively to Welsh traditions of Arthurian legend, Carnwennan (or ‘Little White Hilt’) was the dagger gifted by God to the fabled King of the Britons, which he in turn used to slice a witch in half. That sounds metal as fuck to me (or does it…are we metal heads pro-witch or anti-witch?!) and makes for an interesting choice in monikers for a band from Albany, New York. None the less, a witch-slicing dagger from God by any other name would be as fitting, as the sound on their full-length debut is full of mythic fury that may very well suit to score legends from Annales Cambriae without having to dip into power or trad sub-genres. And yes, I’ll cop that my headline doesn’t reflect the actual origin of the band’s name, but come on, as if you didn’t get a chuckle from my appropriation of a Monty Python quote. I hope. It is objectively one of the funniest films in history, still standing the test of time almost 50 years later, full of intensely quotable dialogue and iconic sight gags…
Uh, yes, anyway…
Carnwennan is comprised of Alexandria Ashpond on lead guitar, Alex Waters on bass, Jack Jackal on guitars and vocals, and James Leshkevich behind the drums. Their sound inhabits the overlap of drone, sludge, and doom, with some flourishes from across the metal spectrum scattered in here and there. Coming off the back of the group’s demo Dusk which was released last year, Lotus represents their full-length debut. The album was recorded as one continuous track, divided into four separate movements, something I personally am often a fan of, but more on that later.
The intro to album opener “I” is an environmental sample that (fittingly, considering their sludge-stylings), calls to mind the hometown of the sub-genre, conjuring brief images of Nola after dark – all crickets and sticky humid air. This quickly gives way to guitars that seemingly wail in protest before a crashing call to life; the track starts the record off on good footing by neatly balancing the overlap between the funeral doom dirge and the harsh and dirty sludge vocals. Our patience pays off toward the back end of the track where the group build to an emotional highpoint of furious if brief blast-beats and gravel-throated growls.
“II” winds the dirge waaaaaay back, slowing things down greatly, giving the group the space to slowly ratchet the tempo up over the next five minutes. This builds to a classic stoner riff which is complemented at end of the track by a solo, neither grating nor showy (which is always a plus), just beautifully propelled by the rich driving bass and stompy drumming, bringing the track to a headbangingly memorable finish.
While the tempo and the main riff behind “III” feel deliberate and hypnotically dreamlike, Jackal’s howls – the harshest on the record thus far – give a sense of vitriol seemingly at odds with the instrumentation, all while keeping with a bog-thick, primal rhythm. An official video for the track was co-directed by Jackal and Cam Damage, which you can check out below:
“IV” exists in a slower and more pensive place, tipping its hat to both the drone and country phases of Earth without aping the Washington titans. This is an interesting decision; rather than having the movement act as a warm-up for both the band and the listener, here it almost feels like the group alluding to the autumn years of human existence, like the subject of the album reflecting on the choices they made on the journey that led them to this point…or that might just be me, a month off staring down the barrel of my 42nd birthday.
The only criticism I could give the record (and it’s barely a criticism at that), is that while tonally, yes, the album feels incredibly cohesive, the four sections of the ‘one song’ feel just distinct enough to stand on their own, as opposed to being irremovable parts of a whole – at least almost a dozen initial listens in. Perhaps that’s something that becomes more apparent with further revisits, and perhaps I’ll have to reassess that (faint) criticism in the future. Anyway…
Though there are plenty of bands out there that straddle the line between doom and sludge, Carnwennan do plenty to stand out from the pack, whether that be the emotive, guttural vocals, or the cozy, blast-door-thick bass, or the memorable stoner riffs. And while the components that make up their sound are clear, there’s no heart on any of their sleeves indicating that they’re leaning too heavily on any one influence in particular. They’ve been able not only to release a fully formed sound, but they’ve also avoided the trap of sounding like just another sludge or doom band, Lotus being a prime example of all of this at play. A formidable debut.
