Review of Brown Jenkins - Dagonite

As unorthodox as it is, the name Brown Jenkins didn’t immediately recall the H.P. Lovecraft character, but rather the Zambian street ‘drug’ Jenkem. Maybe it’s my frame of mind at the moment. Loosely based on “The Shadow over Innsmouth,” Mr. Jenkins produces a sludgy, repetitive, facile black-doom that sounds like the air in Innsmouth smells.

To be fair, Dagonite, in concept, works to such an extent that it’s markedly different—Catacombs’ In the Depths of R’lyeh is a more sophisticated relative—from Moribund’s usual fare, but that’s really about the extent of things. From first lurching note of “Blessed” to the final, uh, lurching note of “Starless,” Dagonite pivots on two, maybe three, compositional traits. The tempo edges under, rarely over, a slow march, while the riffs, laden with Burzum-esque distortion, grind incessantly against a backdrop of atonal strums and sub-human vocals to create what is essentially a 35-minute track segmented into five movements. Such a thing would be great—even for us funeral doom folks—if Brown Jenkins had more tricks up its sleeve. Like contrasting riffs, varying tempos, a wider and deeper sonic palette, or a more consistent drummer. It’s more about short-sighted monotony than minimalist smarts.

Really, art is in the eye of the beholder, but the perspective and delivery on Dagonite is ultimately lacking. Brown Jenkins and Jenkem may have something in common, but it’s advisable not to experiment with either anytime soon.