Candlemass - The Door to Doom

I have wanted to get to this one so much sooner, but time just sometimes has its way when it wants to impede me. Nevertheless, the clock has stuck, and the time is now to finally go over the new Candlemass album, The Door to Doom. The Swedish doom metal stalwarts have had one of the most consistent of careers on their field with the more epic and energetic approach they’ve taken with their music, and their latest full-length is yet another solid offering of the band’s more fervent and charismatic approach to the grandiosity of doom metal, which is fortunate given the seven year wait after 2012’s Psalms for the Deadbeing the longest wait of any for a Candlemass full-length.

The Door to Doom really is business as usual for Candlemass, but their presence in doom metal is such an unrivalled one like Meshuggah’s in/over djent or Rammstein’s in Neue Deutche Härte, and they continue to be such a breath of fresh air among all the gloom surrounding them in the genre. And speaking of the typicality of the genre, Candlemass pull off and continue to justify the Sabbath-worshipping riffage they dip into that so many of their contemporaries constantly ham-fist their ways through. Okay, perhaps bringing Tony Iommi himself onto a song here could constitute an unfair advantage, but I think it speaks less to a cheating dependence on outside input from a legend and more to Candlemass’ credibility and the respectable legacy they’ve built for themselves alongside Black Sabbath after the original doom masters’ peak of output and their declaration of retirement earlier this decade.

But yes, The Door to Doom is another in a string of tight albums from Candlemass, and their consistency with the style, though predictable, is welcome and has yet to show signs of staling. The album is mostly a series of strong, meaty doom hard-hitters, with the band coming through their amps as crisp as ever and everyone mixed fairly to display the tastefulness of each instrumental part of the album. Starting off with the mid-paced groove and hauting choir vocal backing of “Spendor Demon Majesty”, the band waste no time getting into the bombastic, monolithic style of doom they do so well. It’s a fine, well-riffed opening song, and it sets the stage well for the subsequent overbearing monstrosity of “Under the Ocean”, whose reverb-laden guitar intro (later reprised in its bridge of sorts) leads into one of the most towering and intimidating doom riffs on the album, and it really hearkens back to Sabbath at their most sinister. Speaking of Sabbath, Tony Iommi makes his appearance on the gargantuan doom barn burner, “Astorolus - The Great Octopus”, which plays heavily on loud/soft dynamics to produce the fantastical feel it carries, and to which the Black Sabbath guitar icon brings a tasty riff worthy of his legacy.

The following track, “Bridge of the Blind”, isn’t exactly an interlude, but it’s a slow, shorter, acoustic piece that provides a mildly sorrowful vibe in the middle of the album. While it’s no standout among the epic doom around it, it provides a good breather.

The song “Death’s Wheel” resumes the urgent doom marching with a more linear approach and plenty of doom chugging to get the blood pumping again. It’s also not really a standout cut, and its straight-shot composition makes it less wildly thrilling than the dynamic songs before it, but it’s sufficiently heavy to maintain the album’s atmosphere. “Black Trinity” is another of one of the more derivative cuts on the album, riding some andante drums over one of the less creative riffs on the album, and not really doing anything all too exciting in the compositional department aside from a cool synchrony of guitar and vocal high notes on the pre-chorus. The album picks up majestically from its slump with the quick climb of the intro of “House of Doom” from the EP of the same name last year, it’s another great burner that serves as an ode to Candlemass’ dedication to doom with some delicious incorporation church bells and organ between the song’s thick, slow bookends.

The closing song, “The Omega Circle”, unfortunately ends the album on a bit of a flat note, going out long, but not really bringing anything unique to the album to close it out, aside from the song’s flanger-effected guitar coda. It doesn’t mar the overall experience of the album too horribly, fortunately. The album is a fine return for Candlemass, a somewhat derivative, albeit lively, festival of old-school riffs that get the job done perfectly well and captures that thrilling side of early Black Sabbath and the Heaven and Hell project with Dio. Well done again, Candlemass.

Well done again, Candlemass/10