Review: Ba’al ‘Soft Eyes’ EP
I first came across Ba’al, the moody, blackened post-metal crew from Sheffield via the APF Records sampler The First Four Years (2017-2022) which included the despairing One Under The Sun from their debut EP In Gallows By Mass (2017).
This mournful and stark piece of music was a good introduction to the feral, raw power that bubbled up in the quartet as they mixed heart-wrenching melancholy and melody into brute energy accompanied by vocalist Joe Stamps’ screams that could strip paint from the walls. I fell instantly in love with it.
However, it was their critically acclaimed first full-length album Eliipsism that ignited my passion for the band as they combined classic black metal traits with tidal wave high doom riffs and dreamy sequences that rivalled the likes of Deafheaven and Alcest with their atmospheric storytelling.
Having filled the subsequent years with solid road work, they look to capitalise on this experience and build on the already impressive skills that saw them bag the Bloodstock Metal 2 The Masses competition in 2017 with the release of new three-track EP Soft Eyes.
Recruiting Vow and Wallowing producer Joe Clayton, the band headed to No Studio in Manchester for the follow-up to their bleak but emotionally charged blend of light and shade.
The three tracks that make up Soft Eyes are all individual epic-length journeys that weave together to create the same crushing atmosphere they have previously conjured, ripping open their darkened heart but ensuring they sprinkle enough relief to maintain the teasing glimmers of hope that make their complex tapestry so captivating.
Opening with Ornamental Doll, a track that has been extensively road-tested over the last year, Soft Eyes begins with the delicate, soothing sound of bird calls, making the hard-hitting punch of Luke Rutter’s drums and jarring ring of the guitars all the more poignant and impactful. This dramatic thump gives way to warm riffs and lead notes traded by the twin attack of Nick Gosling and Chris Mole over deep fathoms of bass courtesy of Richard Spencer.
As with previous releases, one of the most striking things about Ba’al’s releases is the distilled evil that Stamps crams into his vocal range. Opening with shrieks and feral rasps that sandpaper your brain, he runs the gamut through a spectrum of intensity that few vocalists can compete with. Shifting to resonant growls and morose spoken word intonations I fell in love with on One Under The Sun. The strangled low croak heralds the smouldering quiet parts, expressing sorrow, anger and hope in equal measure.
whether scaling lofty heights or dragging you to the depths of despair, Ba’al prove they are not to be missed out on…
This freedom of expression and emotion is aided by a band who work through a range of sounds including clean melody and considered chord progressions, dexterous solos, thunderous breakdowns and a constant motion through some of the freshest and innovative takes on sludgy black metal.
After the creaking mechanical sounds that end the first track, Yearn To Burn Bright starts with a soft ominous intro with shuffle drums and light, but unsettling notes before Stamp gargles as if he has just crawled from the grave to deliver final judgement. Ba’al build from this to a crushing groove, backed by an incessant droning whine.
As the churning chug grows in power, the monstrously heavy passages are topped by sinister harmonies before they lumber into a faster pace and set off some more traditional black metal tremolo-picked guitar and pulverising double bass whilst the vocals soar and bark. The lyrics are often head-scratching with literary and cultural references thrown in but are articulated with passion, while the mood is matched by the frenetic cacophony around them making a personal and vulnerable voice as you lose yourself in the writhing coils of the composition.
Saving the longest track until last, the twinkling bright guitar and electronics of Bamber Bridge make a swelling, rumbling drone and feature some creative drumming to give a surprising amount of positive energy and beauty to the end of Soft Eyes.
When they finally let go into pummelling drums and a scything heft of the riffs, Ba’al creates a piece that features doom-heavy pounding and a progressive run that feels like some of the pomp of latter-day Iron Maiden refracted through a blackgaze mangle. The winding, epic solo that appears toward the end is a true thing of beauty that cannot be ignored despite Stamp’s vein-bulging delivery.
Keeping up the momentum of Ellipsism was always going to be a hard task for Ba’al, both personally and critically, considering the benchmark they set themselves. Their mission statement thus far has been to create truly harrowing pieces of musical violence that has the darkest moments made more extreme by the shimmering brightness that accompanies them. This in itself is not a new concept, but Ba’al’s approach has been to craft this complex, intelligent savagery to batter the emotions as well as the decibel levels.
In Soft Eyes they have given us enough to raise expectations for their next full length and also put enough distance from the last to keep things fresh, stretch the ideas and ensure their downbeat commentary on the world never feels like a gloomy dirge. These three tracks cram in so many ideas and yet somehow, the EP feels tight and precise, whether scaling lofty heights or dragging you to the depths of despair, Ba’al prove they are not to be missed out on.
Label: Ripcord Records
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Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
