Now here’s an album that just sounds like a bulldozer with a brick on the gas pedal. Bulldozers have pedals, right? Well, either way, I’m sure Warcrab do and they utilize them to craft some dense, captivating sludge/doom metal. It’s been a while since we’ve heard from them, but they’ve always occupied the back of my mind since their last effort, Damned in Endless Night. Album was good, great even in certain spots, but this new one is a new beast entirely.
Where Damned in Endless Night didn’t shy away from the atmosphere and cinematic elements to set stages, and then have the raucous metal set fire to the stage’s curtains, it seems this new album, The Howling Silence, is down to do things a bit differently. It’s more angry – I don’t know what else I’d expect from a band called fucking Warcrab, but it’s still a bit of a shift in attitude, one that’s noticeable and carries this new work to its bitter end.
See, I actually liked the variance and ambience on their last album, so to find this new one nearly bereft of it was a point of adjustment for sure. Then again, I’m always fine with bearing down and cutting the brake lines to something like this, and it seems the band are happy with playing this wild card role as well. Across seven songs, there’s a lot of ass to be kicked and since crabs have like fucking eight feet, they are operating at a foot-to-ass surplus. Prepare to be worn as a shoe when you hit play.
I think the strongest impression The Howling Silence makes upfront is in “Sword of Mars”. Located in the soft, squishy center of the album, it has some subtle guitar melodies that mesh with the bulwarked rhythm section, but they’re far from traditionally catchy. Seriously, these drums are working overtime with neat fills, muddy splashes, and a great sense of power that never stops for long. The combination of sludge and doom really requires weight to make good on both of those genre’s expectations and Warcrab are more than up to the task. I love the vocals and how they’re just a few shades removed from Jeff Walker’s (Carcass) specific raspy lilt.
Maybe I was being a bit unfair earlier with my little critique of the dynamics of this album because “As The Mourners Turn Away” is definitely this album’s moody take on the sound. Slanted much more toward doom, this is a slow-and-low slapper that revels in the swamp and the, well, mournful tone the song’s name calls upon. “Sourlands Under a Rancid Sun” and “Howling Silence” also scale themselves back to leave room for more minimalist instrumentation and an air of deep, dark contemplation. That’s the thing, though: instead of being wholesale sad or morose, here there’s always a foreboding sense of lurking dread that the more metallic performances capitalize on, something the final track expounds on to great effect (I also love the chanting of its title near the end – it’s certainly howling, not silent whatsoever).
There’s no way around acknowledging that Warcrab‘s shell seems to have hardened over time, though given the last three years, whose hasn’t? The Howling Silence certainly feels more immediate than recent Warcrab work and I do enjoy it for that. The energy isn’t infinite and I honestly wouldn’t expect it to be, and the little change-ups we’re afforded feel less like respites and more like wind-ups to more cataclysmic destruction that shatters foundations and supports. The Warcrab is warrier and crabbier than ever, and that’s fine by me. They come off as deft, urgent, and antagonistic, a great place to occupy for a band of their modality, and this album is a violent, pounding way to kick off November.
