Review Summary: A gold standard for doom, epic or otherwise
Unlike so many bands averse to genre categories because ‘it’s all metal, maaaan,’ Candlemass’s debut album tells you exactly what it stands for in plain Dog Latin. There is some serious vision behind 1986’s Epicus Doomicus Metallicus, taking Black Sabbath’s doom metal template beyond what Trouble, Pentagram, and Saint Vitus had introduced. Much of that comes courtesy of an epic veneer informed by groups like Angel Witch and Manilla Road among others, taking the compositions to unprecedentedly arcane excursions.
For such a lofty premise, the circumstances behind the album’s creation reinforce a scrappy underdog execution. Much has been made of the recording process, held up in a freezing Stockholm studio owned by Heavy Load’s Ragner Wahlquist with half of the musicians playing on a sessional basis. The results are rawer than most anything else they’d ever release but that works in its favor more often than not, its ominous atmosphere fleshed out by crispy guitar and bass tones.
It’s also impressive to see how much of themselves the musicians put into the proceedings, leading to performances that shape the epic doom tropes yet would be impossible to replicate. Things may be slowly paced but the drums are never too lethargic, even dipping into some methodical double bass in spots while the guitars mix in enough exotic solos to suggest more behind the riffs than simple plods. I also love the spoopy keyboards that pop up throughout, dated in just the right way.
Of course, vocalist Johan Langquist’s mournful baritone is easily the album’s most identifiable feature. While his lower range can make him rather reserved when compared to the bombastic monk waiting in the wings, his sweeping bellows and punctuating wails set the theatrical standard for the genre while still carrying pathos in its echoing loneliness. In hindsight, I’m not sure how well he would’ve fit the band going forward but that just emphasizes the lightning in a bottle feel of it all.
The ambitious songwriting is also to be admired, largely defying the doom stereotype of riding out repetitive riffs. On the contrary, songs like “Demon’s Gate” and “Black Stone Wielder” are filled to the brim with changing parts across labyrinthine structures that play out like dark descents into ancient torchlit catacombs. The former track is especially legendary for its pitch-shifted narration, ominous guitars and synths, subtle bass pulse, surging drums, and haunting vocals. The closing “A Sorcerer’s Pledge” proves to be just as climactic with its sung laments and ringing guitar soon giving way to scorching riff sets and angelic female vocals during its surges that might as well be a seed planted for gothic metal.
But even an esoteric mission like this can still feature a couple numbers on the more accessible side. It’s no doubt blasphemous for me to wait this long to namedrop “Solitude” due to how perfectly it serves as a mission statement for the album, band, and perhaps even the entire genre with its iconic trudging riff and lyrics delivered with the sort of triumphant misery that probably gave ground for a bit of camp. “Crystal Ball” may be less recognized in comparison but is still a staple in itself thanks to catchy guitar fanfare and a sturdy chorus.
Like Sabbath’s debut album before it, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus is a trailblazer whose flawless execution only seems enhanced by its rougher edges. Its unique character is rooted in familiar influences being pushed to further extents than before, the rough production is perfectly suited to the mystical aesthetic, the haphazard lineup ironically allows each of the musicians to shine, and the songwriting miraculously holds it all together. Candlemass would find ways to take the template to bold heights, but their debut is truly in a league of its own. It remains one of the gold standards for doom metal, epic or otherwise.
