Strike The Sun
Somewhere in the cesspool of modernity that is Florida’s southernmost metropolis, a vanguard of sludge is hanging on to the crumbling ledges of mortality that partly define this entire region’s apocalyptic ecological situation. Miami’s gloomy atmosphere is in plain sight; the city is a cancerous orgy of materialism stretching for miles in a honeycomb of desperate paupers and zealots mingling with vampiric hedonists. This is a scene ripe for powerful music, and Shroud Eater is a beacon for all that there is to extol.
The chilling introduction “Smokeless Fire” lures like the echoes of sirens on a somber night, beckoning listeners into the collapsing wall of dreadful millennial face fucking sludge that is “Iron Mountain.”
Artisans and acolytes commissioned by the distortion drenched sounds of doom metal and all of its derivatives shall surrender to the 42 minute sojourn into this audible abyss; Strike The Sun has carved Shroud Eater’s place in the apocalyptic cult as one that it is sincere and definite.
“Awaken Assassin” could put motivational speakers out of business. The crawling tempo that slithers about this tune resonates with the spirit of a shadowy usurper conjured to overcome and trample over death. At its height, the tune climaxes with melodies prompting imagery of the ancient Persian hashishin watching their enemies through cold eyes.
A monolith of doom that keeps crushing as it rolls out with each seamless riff. Jean Saiz is churning out a ruckus in each chord as Davin Sosa and Janette Valentine power through rhythms almost effortlessly. This Miami trio is possessed by a thick and mighty groove that comes out in waves almost mystically.
“Another Skin” and “Dream Flesh” are two tracks that come together remarkably, the first an astral instrumental that will hurl you around for five minutes in a trance of chaotic confusion. The song “Another Skin” is trapped within a maddening struggle with itself until the climax, as each riff builds up then transitions, the whole song is falling apart into itself and stringing back together again in each reverberation. The tune closes out with some wailing consolation to this puzzle and then seemingly drops off into nothingness until the morbidly sanguine reflections of “Dream Flesh” chime in with that first impenetrable note.
Shroud Eater are capable song crafters that filter through influences ranging from jazz and doom fused blues until churning excellent results. Their melodies are piercing and the cadences are a tempest that will consume and smother in a moody ambiance. Saiz charms and riddles with powerful mana while the backbone unit of bassist Janette Valentine and drummer Davin Sosa crush with pummeling savagery.