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Friday Full-Length: Candlemass, Candlemass

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Candlemass, Candlemass (2005)

As they’ve done so much in the 15 years since to add to it, it’s almost strange to consider that by the time Candlemass got back together and released their declarative self-titled full-length in 2005, the band’s legacy had already been so long established and, in some ways, squandered. The band had broken up following 1999’s From the 13th Sun, and by then, the Stockholm-based mainstays seemed to have been floundering for some time. Their first four albums were and are largely untouchable. Essential documents of doom, all, from the still-influential 1986 debut, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus, to the holy trilogy of LPs fronted by Messiah Marcolin in 1987’s Nightfall (discussed here), 1988’s Ancient Dreams (discussed here) and 1989’s Tales of Creation. Issued in a new alliance with Nuclear Blast RecordsCandlemass‘ Candlemass was intended as a fourth installment in that grand lineage of Marcolin-fronted albums.

Founded by bassist Leif Edling and fueled as ever by his songcraft, the band had basked in Sabbathian tradition of seeing vocalists come and go, including Thomas Vikström on 1992’s Chapter VI and Björn Flodkvist on 1998’s Dactylis Glomerata and the aforementioned once-swansong From the 13th Sun. The trio of instrumentalists in guitarists Mats “Mappe” Björkman and Lars “Lasse” Johansson and drummer Jan Lindh had been in the band until a breakup circa 1994, and in addition to pushing outside the range of epic doom for which Candlemass had become known, Edling experimented with other lineups and other players during those years, which built off the work he did in the post-Candlemass project, Abstrakt Algebra, whose lone, self-titled album came out in 1995.

Okay. So it’s a complicated history with Candlemass. Established. Fine. Perhaps it’s best, then, to look at the self-titled not just as a declaration of purpose, but as a complete reorganization of mission for the band. Reformed with Edling, Marcolin, Björkman, Johansson and Lindh, signed to a new label with a nine-song/55-minute (more if you got the version with the bonus track “Mars and Volcanoes”), Candlemass entered a new era with this record and it’s one that has in some ways defined their course over the 15 years since. The strong launch given to the outing in “Black Dwarf” and the likewise catchy “Seven Silver Keys” — on which Edling seems to anticipate riffs Tony Iommi would come up with himself a few years later for Heaven and Hell — soars with righteousness, and the band as a whole are and Marcolin in particular is in top form.

“Assassin of the Light” is quintessential, powerful doom metal, with a highlight solo from Johansson and a modern take on the kind of grandiosity for which the original Marcolin era was known. Building toward the candlemass self titledseven-minute “Copernicus,” this initial salvo sets the tone for everything to follow throughout Candlemass, whether it’s the instrumental “The Man Who Fell From the Sky,” the nod-chugger “Witches” — if you can find me a better opening lyric for a doom song than “Someone stole the starlight from the backside of your hand,” I’d love to know what it is — or the head-scratcher “Born in a Tank,” which goes back and forth between talking about being buried alive in dirt and born in a tank of water in some kind of weird sci-fi scenario that boasts the line, “Buried alive like a dog,” leading one inevitably to wonder just who the hell it is burying dogs alive and why is no one stopping them from doing this awful thing? It’s a great riff and an energetic kick after the hypnotic chugging finish of “Witches,” but someone please call animal control and tell them what’s going on and see if we can put a stop to the horror.

In hindsight, the band might’ve been better off swapping “Born in a Tank” with “Mars and Volcanoes,” which as noted, ended up a bonus track on the limited-edition version of the CD. The two songs share a speedier tempo, but one suspects it was that riff that ultimately made the choice. So be it. The album proper finishes with the pairing of “Spellbreaker” (7:02) and “The Day and the Night” (8:53), a last push that answers the reach of “Copernicus” back at the end of side A and goes that much further into the classic-doom feel that Candlemass helped define in the first place, a pair of stops in “Spellbreaker” reminiscent of “Mirror, Mirror” from Ancient Dreams and the quiet unfolding of “The Day and the Night” leading to a massive concluding march worthy not only of finishing the record and emphasizing the titular duality, but fading while still in progress, Marcolin repeating the line, “I’m lost in the dark,” on his way out as if to enact being actually swallowed up by a great nothingness of silence. Doom. A masterclass therein.

This era of Candlemass, somewhat sadly, didn’t last. The band split with Marcolin ahead of 2007’s King of the Grey Islands — one recalls Edling at the time calling him “crazy” — and wound up recruiting Texas’ Robert Lowe, best known for his work in Solitude Aeturnus and currently back with his prior outfit, TyrantLowe completed his own trilogy of albums in that one, 2009’s Death Magic Doom (review here) and 2012’s Psalms for the Dead (review here) as well as a smattering of EPs and singles, before likewise parting ways with Edling and company. Mats Levén, who already had years of performing alongside Edling to his credit and who had completed demos for King of the Grey Islands before Lowe joined, took up the role and performed ably on EPs in 2016 and 2018, but as Johan Längquist — who sang on Epicus Doomicus Metallicus in 1986 but was never actually a member of the band — joined on for 2019’s The Door to Doom (review here) in a landmark return, the group again switched directions. And considering they were nominated for a Grammy for the track “Astorolus – The Great Octopus,” which featured a guest solo from Tony Iommi himself — touched by the hand of god, it was — it’s safe to say the change worked out in the band’s favor.

Earlier this year, Candlemass released the EP The Pendulum (discussed here) and likely would’ve hit a number of festivals and tour dates, etc., were it not for the global pandemic. A live stream in July (review here) helped keep their palpable forward momentum going and demonstrated the utter vitality of their approach all the more resonant some 35 years on from their first demo tapes, and I won’t profess to know what’ll come next for them, but it’s worth looking back at their accomplishments of the last decade and a half and noting that this self-titled was the point at which they restarted and firmly stated who they were and what their intentions were as a group. They’ve only lived up to that since.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

A little bit after 6AM. Sun’s not quite up yet. Went for a run in between the top part of this post and this. About 1.3 miles, same course through the neighborhood I do basically every other day — though I usually give myself one bye a week to account for timing, feeling crappy, being busy as I was yesterday, kid or dog being up early, and so on. There’s a big hill just up the road that is satisfying to climb at a jog. I’ve been doing so long enough where I can get to the top without dragging my feet and that feels good. I also have a stretch where I run on the balls of my feet and a stretch where I high-step a little bit and a sprint to finish. It’s a whole thing. I stretch before and after, work on breathing, try not to be crazy about it. Try try try. All you can do.

The left side of my groin has been tight for like two months. Stretch stretch stretch. Trying to live by the Ichiro Suzuki model. Dude stretched every other second of his career. That shit matters as you get older.

Two cool-looking objects in the sky besides the moon despite the beginning-to-dawn day. I assume one was Jupiter or Mars, that’s closer to the moon, and the other has to be Venus. It’s practically punching you in the face with yellow. Star-viewing around here isn’t the best because of light pollution, but I’ll take what I can get. I’ve seen some nice sunrises too.

The Pecan was coming with me for a while. We were going later — after he got up, obviously. But he kind of decided he didn’t want to do it anymore and I didn’t really feel like making him and myself miserable. I ask him every now and again if he wants to go. I asked yesterday before we took him to daycare if he wanted to go for a run, reminded him of some of his favorite landmarks, and it basically took the entire morning off the rails. He’s starting hitting again, and he bites himself when he’s frustrated. He still hits and kicks the dog with every available opportunity. I guess that’s just what life is now. Kid’s rainboot being brought down heel-first on the dog’s head in the back seat of the car. Wham.

He blew off nap yesterday as well, so I took him to his favorite sandbox to basically kill time letting him play. He wanted to go on the swings and wouldn’t accept “in a little bit” so ran up to where I was sitting and slapped me in the face. I picked him up and we left, him literally kicking and screaming as I put him back in his car seat. It was substantially less than fun.

The week was like that. Ups and downs.

They buried my father I think on Wednesday. In Pennsylvania, a national cemetery because he was in the Air Force. They put Vietnam on his memorial but he never went. My sister called to correct and they took basically my position, which was “whatever who cares he’s dead,” but fine. That’s done.

We’re going to the zoo today with The Patient Mrs.’ mother, sister, and her sister’s two kids, all of whom are lovely. It’s the kind of thing one might look forward to in a normal year. Zoos, if you didn’t know, are immoral as shit. To think that we, as a species, stand around and pretend some lion is fucking happy walking back and forth in a pen for its entire life when it should be out there chasing down zebras and giraffes and the occasional human out on the savanna? You gotta be kidding me. But you know what? I got a kid, and that kid wants to see an elephant, and I know elephants are intelligent, thinking, feeling creatures, but fuck it, there it is. Rainboot on the dog’s head. The choices we make. I don’t expect history to be kind to us. I do expect the future to be blind to its own failings.

Speaking of, anyone outright terrified of the presidential election yet? Did Trump declare victory yet? It’s kind of astounding to think I might actually be alive to witness the downfall of American democracy to some half-assed Putin wannabe who used social media to sublimate an entire political party to his every will. And a global pandemic! Wow. If I didn’t have to then live with the ramifications of it — I don’t know, maybe a cross between The Handmaid’s Tale and even more cops killing Black people while millions are out of work aching for a resurgent Civil War? — it would be a fascinating science experiment. To the rest of the world, hi from the test tube. Guard your votes, kids.

The Pecan’s up, which is fair enough as it’s after 6:30 now. He’s reading books (such as he does), but I should probably go grab him. Two quick things:

1. New Gimme show today. 5PM Eastern. Please listen. I promise it’s good. http://gimmemetal.com.

2. Next week is PACKED. Doubled up most days. Lot of good stuff as we move into Fall, so keep an eye out.

Meantime, great and safe weekend. See you at the zoo, though I probably won’t recognize you because of the mask. Ha.

Much love.

FRM.

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