Body Void are the cathartic doom and sludge metal collaboration that brace the gale of disharmony conjured by vocalist and guitarist Willow Ryan against the earth-splitting rhythms of drummer Edward Holgerson.
They’ve been playing together since 2014 under the name Devoid, but in 2016, they dispersed and reconvened under their current name. Bury Me Beneath this Rotting Earth is their third LP and first for Prosthetic Records.
At only four tracks, you might think the album is an EP. But it’s not. They released an EP in 2019 called You Will Know the Fear You Forced upon Us. It was 37 minutes in length. Bury Me Beneath this Rotting Earth is 51 minutes, with each track running over 12 minutes in length.
So makes sure you’re sitting comfortably, because Body Void are going to need at least as much of your time and attention as your favorite podcaster this afternoon (unless, your favorite podcaster is Joe Rogan, in which case you’re probably going to need to skip this week’s episode and listen to Body Void’s album twice in a row [IT’S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!}).
Despite being familiar in some regards, it can be a little difficult to pin down Body Void’s sound. Which is to their credit. The band perform a laborious, caustic, cavernous, lo-fi, and pain-shingled style of doom that should be familiar to fans of Indian or Primitive Man.
It’s a style that they evaluate magnificently with brain-smearing, cosmic passages reminiscent of bands like Full of Hell’s attempts to step outside the gangrenous trenches of death and grind. The slow, agonizing progression of the grooves as well as the acerbic tone and wash of the guitars pry you away from your environment, and further, impart the impression that you are being divorced from the shell of your flesh. Like you are being forcefully separated from yourself, and your essence, dissolved in a pit of lye—conscious of your disappearance, but helpless to escape it.
The paring and rending nature of Willow’s shrinking vocal work adds to this effect as well, contributing to the songs a sense of hostile finitude, much the way that Megan Osztrosits’s vengeful snarl gifts to Couch Slut its sanguinary hurdle—with each line emerging from the sky like the talons of a giant bird, puncturing your side and carrying your off to be devoured in some high, lonesome place.
Bury Me Beneath this Rotting Earth is a lot to take in all at once. It is even overwhelming to a degree. So much so that you run the risk of being subsumed into it as you attempt to come to terms with its dark, absorbing immensity.
Buy or stream Bury Me Beneath this Rotting Earth via Bandcamp below: