Review Summary: I'd like to be // Under the sea // In...
There's one thing that Jacques Coasteau, indisputable scholar of all things maritime, couldn't unveil during his extensive and exhaustive studies of the unimaginable mysteries that dwell at the bottom of the ocean. Who would have thought that the dark pits of the sea would be home to crypts and tombs where vampire wraiths feast and party from dusk to... well, dusk. In search of proof, Californian label Prosthetic Records have managed to dive deeper than anyone else in history, deep down into the pitch-black abyss, and what they have brought with them is just something that shall not be named, let alone be heard; but I know you all here are creatures whose thirst of knowledge is just impossible to quench so here they are. Meet: Dryad.
Turns out that crusty black metal wasn't exclusive of snowstorms, satanic rituals and warmongering nerds. Down there, at the bottom of the sea, between giant siphonophores, abhorrent isopods and nightmarish shrimps, four spirits of dubious origin have been brought to the surface through a turbulent recording of several episodes of oceanic mischief only imaginable until now in horror sci-fi flicks of the 50s and 60s. Thirteen tracks of absolute filth that bite like a shoal of starving sharks. Dryad's
The Abyssal Plain is the first sonic evidence of undersea undead activity, and it might not be the last.
A subject which has been labelled as Claire Nuñez seems to act as a leader for these deep-sea species. Not only she seems proficient in battering six ropes with a shell to create tortuous concatenations of power chords, she also seems very adept at recreating forlorn melodies of a gothic past through their own version of what we have come to know as
synths. In tow, three other specimens appear to act following her through some kind of electric stimulus to create a cacophony of caustic punk and repugnant black metal that not even the most adventurous ears would dare to explore, but we will, right? This is the kind of horror that made the crew of the Event Horizon gouge their eyes as an act of salvation, so if you appreciate your aural limbs, stay away from this recording.
But.
If you're willing to cross the threshold, I'll let you in a little secret, just between us. Man,
The Abyssal Plain is a hell of a record. Really, this band's debut slaps whales from here to the Mariana Trench. "Bottomfeeder", "Pompeii Worm", "Eutrophication", you name it. This album is packed to the brim with effervescent hymns to the dark below. Nuñez shrieks like a piranha in heat, while guitar swinger Grimmtooth provides a monstrous counterpart with his own megalodonic growls. Dryad navigate styles like cocaine mermaids on a coral rave. The whole affair sounds like they did record these songs in an oceanic cave, so don't expect the crystal-clear waters of a Honolulu beach. This shit is dark, ugly and doesn't care about you. If anything, be thankful that Nuñez has been merciful enough to add a couple of palate cleansers in the form of organ interludes, so one doesn't sink in the muck when trying to traverse
The Abyssal Plain.
This is the first sighting of what I believe are many to come, so you better hurry on those swimming lessons because I may forgive you this one, but next time you're coming with me. The submarine mosh pit awaits!
