Review Summary: It's a banefyre, turn the lights out
Crippled Black Phoenix have been a staple of the musical underground for around fifteen years now. The brainchild of former Electric Wizard drummer Justin Greaves, the group has seen a wide circle of musicians contribute at various times, and stands out for their ability to create dark and moody atmospheres through a wide range of genre influences.
Banefyre is their latest album, an absolute behemoth of an LP even by the band’s oft long-winded standards.
One unfortunately necessary note: the less said about this album’s intro track “Incantation For The Different”, the better. At best, it’s an ill-advised addition to an already very lengthy release, at worst, it’s a little piece which approaches life-threatening levels of cringe. Fortunately, though, the second track, “Wyches And Basterdz”, quickly wipes that bad taste out of the listener’s mouth, providing a high level of quality which most of the rest of the album manages to maintain.
As a whole, this record stretches to around ninety-three minutes in duration across twelve tracks. Listeners aware of Crippled Black Phoenix’s previous material won’t necessarily be surprised by the sonic influences in play, but the songs here are satisfactorily diverse. “Wyches And Basterdz” may be the most overtly metallic offering, running on a foundation of doomy riffage, while mid-album duet of “Rose Of Jericho” and “Blackout77” delve deep into post-rock, feeling like lost cuts from some classic 2000s era release in that genre. In between, there are more immediate, alt-rock tinged offerings, along with “Ghostland”, which thrives as a surprisingly anthemic number built upon a mournful and vaguely Celtic folk melody. In the album’s later stages, “Everything Is Beautiful But Us” leans into an unusually upbeat rendition of Emma Ruth Rundle-style gaze-Gothic, while mammoth closer “The Scene Is A False Prophet” is all melancholy prog meets post-metal, ominous and powerful but always operating with restraint.
Banefyre does suffer a bit from the common malady of works of this span: over 1.5 hours is a long time to dedicate to a single record, and a little trimming probably would benefit the effort’s impact as a whole. That said, bar the intro which shall not be named, Crippled Black Phoenix have done a very impressive job here of crafting reliably excellent music, and even given the degree of stylistic variation, there’s a coherent mood throughout. Likely not surprisingly, this album’s a bit of a downer, contemplating such topics as social inequity and urban unrest, depression, and religion, none of which are delivered in a particularly uplifting way. The results provide a vibe somewhere between a more ordinary artistic expression of angst and a soundtrack to a candlelit Satanic ritual. All this is to say that while
Banefyre is an album which will genuinely rock your socks off in a fair number of spots, it’s the haunting nature of many of its songs which will stay with the listener more than anything.
