Dragged into sunlight12/28/2023 ![]() And like the best post-metal, the latter half of Part II continues to grow in stature: its eviscerating cycle of riffs returning with more intensity with each repetition, resulting in a truly incredible end to the middle section of Widowmaker. ![]() ![]() It is cold, remorseless and contains enough twists and turns to satisfy the insatiable appetites of even the most jaded metal fan. A tumultuous emission of frightening spoken word samples (including words from the brutal serial killer, Richard Ramirez), pitched shrieks and innards rupturing growls on top of blackened hardcore/death metal, all of which has been perverted into deformity. ![]() Some may balk at its seemingly excessive length and find it a patience tester, but Dragged Into Sunlight’s music is not about instant gratification and you get the impression that Part I is supposed to test patience in order to weed out the weak.Īfter the creepy incline of Part I, Part II’s thunder clouds rain down the bile and bitterness that Dragged Into Sunlight has been known for. The maturity contained within this composition is light years ahead of the hell-fire abominations vomited out on the sadistic, Hatred For Mankind, and its placement here is essential to Widowmaker’s purposeful course. And even though there is no punishing rhythms or hellacious screams to be heard, the twang of its “Wild West by way of Olde England” atmospherics and the constant sense of dread contained within the instrumentation-heightened by the distressing use of strings, particularly the slicing violins that begin to appear amongst the reverb soaked guitars-makes Part I the most reserved, consuming, and melodic song that Dragged Into Sunlight has ever written. It unwinds slowly haunting the listener over the space of fifteen minutes. Part I is a scene-setting instrumental piece that thrives upon the tension and the terror between the notes. To experience the perverse world created by this UK based sect of sickness, whose reclusive band members-in an act of unity and the total suppression of individuality-are named only by single letters: C (bass), J (drums), A (guitars) and T (vocals), and shield their faces with balaclavas, it is imperative that Widowmaker‘s forty minute running time is engaged by the listener in its entirety. With Widowmaker the band have blended these extreme genres together and has constructed a record that is almost cinematic in style bringing Dragged Into Sunlight’s sound from the murkiest basement to the murder room front and centre.īroken into three distinct sections and labelled in a rudimentary fashion as Part I-III, Widowmaker dispenses with the frivolity of song titles and leans on the nightmarish artwork (courtesy of the maniacal mind of Justin Bartlett) and the music itself to fracture brittle psyches. But unlike the debut, Widowmaker salivates over aspects of hardcore (similar to bands like Integrity and AMENRA) and intently focuses its beady eyes on doom. Like the band’s debut, Hatred For Mankind, Widowmaker feasts upon the foul carcass of the blackest sludge, the nastiest black metal and the most disturbing death metal. That is why when another record comes along and petrifies you to the point where you begin to feel the blood drain from your face and the marrow of your bones begin to tighten, you take notice, breathe deep its vile essence, and embark upon its journey most morbid.Īnd what a journey Dragged Into Sunlight’s Widowmaker is. Hell, even the coruscating noise of artists like Merzbow and Whitehouse (who have been adopted by the metal community because of their musical extremity) and the laborious drone of Sunn o))) are now enjoyed by the more conservative metal listener a possible result of our increasing exposure to the most avant-garde and extreme of acts discovered through different digital avenues.īecause of this desensitization, in the year 2012 there is little left to instil fear in the heart of the listener, and it takes something special to do so: Nihill’s Verkdonkermaan more than rattled a few knees earlier this year and Atriarch’s recent masterpiece Ritual Of Passing will shake the weak to their very core. It has reached the point where impenetrable genres such as grindcore, death metal and black metal-all of which have prospered on being uncompromising and inaccessible in nature-have become popular, and in turn have lost the shock and horror of their youth. Over the past 40 years metal has stretched every possible “extreme” musical idea to the most illogical of conclusions.
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