Seriously, who the hell calls their album I Taste Your Fucking Tears of Sorrow? I tell you who, zee Germans. I have to hand it out to Wytchcraft though, I’ve spent more time trying to decide whether or not I’m crying or laughing at the(ir) name(s) than I’ve spend on downloading sleazy, coprophilic chocolate-mousse movies of varying qualities. It doesn’t help the first impression that the cover artwork is straight out of some home baked, horror-porn movie.But instead of getting 90 minutes of vampire lesbians doing their thing, there’s music to be listened and later on, people to be crucified afterwards for atrocities against mankind. However, whether or not it’s the cause of the full moon or what (my skit-writers being on a strike don’t help, either), but instead of cracking jokes about the name Wytchcraft, the band will avoid the wrath of Inquisition today and instead, get a beer flavored salute as the 58-minute epoch withasillyname delivers a doze of good, clean and almost upbeat (even if that’s stretching it a bit) doom metal of the traditional nature.

This being the New Millennium and not “Happy Days” with Richie Cunningham banging Becky from behind, the band dwells not without some bonus elements instead of just crying for what once was. And besides, Richie was the king of teenage sorrow some 20 years before Sabbath even was on the map of mainstream knowledge anyway… that rascal. But as I was babbling, you could say that the mainly-traditional, very rock’n’rollish doom takes a detour every now and then to more modern variations of the genre.

I had my doubts for the actual music when the first track, carrying the title of the album, was far from ending. Just when I thought that this was going to be a long ride, the band threw a surprise move and spiced things up a bit. The theatrically tormented, carrying voice of Mr. Tubbesing suddenly took a plunge to deeper growls. While the song is probably the weakest on the album, the move does come at a proper time, setting the mood for the rest of the album and actually raising the interest of the listener. In a way, I was slightly intrigued to hear what other surprises there might be. Of course, it didn’t take long for the man to climb back to the more traditional presentation, but that’s ok, as later on the songs improve quite a lot. The rest of the band also changes its pace accordingly; sometimes slowing things down to match the speed of a Finnish Funeral march, or take a slab at nostalgia, and bang their instruments like Steve Harris and co. back in the early 80s. We also get to hear some stringed instruments (“Entities from an Unknown Plane”), German (“Lass Mich Gehen”) and a bunch of other stuff as well (that brings My Dying Bride/early Anathema etc. to my mind).

I Taste Your Fucking Tears of Sorrow is a bit like a kebab. The bones of the music (i.e. the traditional aspect) tastes “ok” alone, but without the extra sauce (i.e. the varying details) it really wouldn’t have grasped my attention as well as it did. Still, a kebab is far from being the king of foods. So while I’m definitely not thoroughly satisfied, this is an album that shows that behind it all is a band that might be onto something. There are some rugged edges still present, but I’ll give the band the benefit of the doubt, in hopes that they have enough self-criticism and quality control when it’s time for their next endeavors. If all goes well, the next sacrificial offering should be a more balanced, thicker (the album sounds a bit bland as it is, but considering the do-it-yourself -nature of it, it’s to be expected) and most of all, ten times more indulging record.

As I won’t go out and recommend the album to everyone, I’m still going to say that doom enthusiasts (that aren’t completely glued to the old) should at least take a look. Perhaps the rest (of us) will hear about the band later on… burp.

[Visit the band's website]

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