Review: Green Lung ‘Necropolitan’
It has been a satisfying journey to watch the rise of British occult metal band Green Lung. From the youthful outfit that emerged blinking from their hovel with the folksy, sylvan-inspired Woodland Rites back in 2019, consolidating their sound along the way with the harder-hitting Black Harvest, before taking their Sabbath-influenced sound nationwide with 2023’s This Heathen Land.
The last album in particular was a triumph in terms of success and, having witnessed a mind-blowing merch queue that didn’t drop all night in Bristol (as well as a phenomenal show), they capped off the cycle by delivering a masterclass whilst headlining this year’s Desertfest London at The Roundhouse.
Now seemingly poised to take another big step in terms of profile, the band unleash full-length number four, Necropolitan. This time, they take their love of historical horror to the streets of London in an ode to the city they hail from and the Victorian-era garden cemeteries that encircle the metropolis.
It also feels like a big throw of the dice as they have built their doom-laden sound on a quirky, Hammer Horror-esque, quintessentially English ‘hey nonny, nonny’ Wicker Man vibe. But now, that Green Man spirit has been eschewed slightly in favour of a more biting urban grind, reminiscent of the industrialisation that launched the terrifying sound of the greatest metal band of all time, Black Sabbath.
This growth, you feel, is necessary to maintain their upward trajectory, but it does have a notable impact by changing some of the subtle nuances in their sound. The nine tracks were expertly produced by Tom Dalgety (Opeth, Ghost) who this time handled everything from recording to mixing, may have lost some of the Celtic, Midsommar (OK, that was Swedish, but you know what I mean) flavours. In their place is a delicious, delirious danse macabre that evokes ’70s classic rock and experimentation with Mellotrons that really brings to the fore the baroque gothic psychedelia previously hinted at.
As with all their output, Necropolitan hangs around a loose concept, and the thematic intro of Open The Hellmouth starts with appropriate eerie sounds and chanting before the joyous celebration of Dance To The Grave ignites. Layered in terms of subject matter, it serves as a commentary on the current alliance of the far right and climate change-denying big tech. However, on a more straightforward level, it is a tale of the dark that rocks hard with a big swinging riff and towering chorus.
Vocalist Tom Templar has always owed a debt to the Prince of Darkness and here in particular, a year after his death, he channels latter-era Ozzy with venom – soaring melodies fragile, sinister, and utterly captivating in a track that goes hard on Hammond organ and the added bite of sprawling concrete landscapes.
Heavy as a sack of rhinos and dripping with gleefully twisted melodies…
Following up with the stomping, twisted glam rock of Black Magic Radio. The band throw out hooks and infectious beats as they reimagine pirate radio as an occult propaganda tool and celebrate some of the proto-goth subcultures in London in the ‘60s, referencing The Process Church and the Soho cafe Le Macabre. Cantering off into noodling solos and sumptuous organ parts, they bring the hammer down for the ringing slower section, determined to lose none of the sky-claw-inducing power they have honed over time.
Necropolitan Line hurtles in with a speed rush of Deep Purple meets Motörhead, taking inspiration from the real-life Necropolis Railway which transported the dead beneath the city in a track that feels like new territory. The unhinged honky-tonk piano and winking kitsch of the track, including the frenzied solo, might take a moment for older fans to get on board with (the shift in sound was a topic of our group post-Desertfest), but shows a band unafraid to take risks and challenge their audience.
These thoughts are soon banished by Evil In This House, a massive, crunching, creeping anthem that they debuted at Desertfest to a rapturous response. Heavy as a sack of rhinos and dripping with gleefully twisted melodies, Templar holds court like a deranged psychic investigator that has the fervour of a TV evangelist.
Elsewhere, there are more surprises as Together In Death brings the temperature down in a sombre, funereal-like ballad. It showcases Templar’s vocals in a way that would do Alice Cooper proud, before sliding into pummelling doom heaviness and a breakdown that wouldn’t sound out of place on Vol. 4.
Ozymandiasuses the classic sonnet by romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley to draw comparisons to crumbling empires in an epic number that contains a funky edge and stirring climax as the lyrics ‘look upon ye mighty and despair’ chime in with a histrionic finish. Meanwhile, Alostraelropes in Castle Rat’s Riley Pinkerton to narrate from Revelation, drawing comparisons to another legendary British metal band, Iron Maiden. As they head for the finish, you can feel the sense of confidence dripping off them as the tumbling rhythms give way to the hook of ‘Be My Babylon’.
Saving the best until last, the powerful To The Gallows Pole closes things out. Mid-paced and almost a return to the folk edge of yesteryear, it grooves from a cappella harmonies to a funky verse, smoky and low, before growing into an absolute earworm of a track. Full of retro flavour and resigned lyrics charged with finality, it draws the journey to a dramatic conclusion that is up there with anything the band have done before.
Necropolitan feels like a bigger, bolder Green Lung; a band that have worked to deliver a massive statement, one that will hopefully propel them to the greater levels of success they deserve. The sound stays faithful to their roots while adding a new wrinkle, and ultimately, they have delivered an album that is amazingly over the top, bombastic, and a fantastic ride from start to finish.
Label: Nuclear Blast
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
