Agonhymn
Doom Jazz

Just in time for Father’s Day comes a slab of barbeque-rattling doom metal set to spark Sunday lunchtime conversation in all new directions/dimensions. Agonhymn are a Melbourne two-piece with an interest in aural density and, as they put it, ‘superiority through volume’.

Doom Jazz is a slab of largesse with intimations of a mud-slide – a viscous deluge of heavy-and-thick detuned chords and stump-rumbling bass. The natural world is one the band themselves reach for: one track here – they’re all unnamed – fades with the tranquil sound of sea-gulls and lapping sea-water, coming only after the primeval pummelling of the song which precedes it. An appeal to nature is often associated with this type of slowcore metal, its overwhelming scale reaching for a kind of natural sublimity. With other bands, this can easily trip over into mysticism, but remaining largely instrumental (and inscrutable when singing), Agonhymn avoid the embarrassing New Age lyrical realms of their brethren.

Even in the ear-bruising sections, the band has a sense of dynamics which keep things moving and interesting. A faster-paced stoner-rock interlude on track four and a few sections of post-rock style guitar ambiance provide different shadings. So with the old man already rocking the latest Neurosis disc, mum sick of the Isis remix stocking-filler and your baby brother spending winter with Jesu, Agonhymn’s Doom Jazz is the perfect family gift this year. Agonhymn: not just for Father’s Day, for damned eternity.

by Ben Gook