Listen to the epic new album from Finland's first doom band, Spiritus Mortis

Spiritus Mortis promo pic 2016

Finland’s capacity for combining sonic misery and majesty may be renowned throughout the metal world, but as far reaching as the its doom scene has become, there is a ground zero, located in the western town of Alavus and claimed by Spiritus Mortis. Formed in 1987 – spending their first year as Rigor Mortis – not only were they Finland’s first ever doom band, they now have the country’s most renonwed magus of misery on vocals, former Reverend Bizarre frontman Albert Witchfinder.

Seven long, and no doubt ill-fated years after their last opus, The God Behind The God, Spiritus Mortis are back carrying, Atlas-like, a new slab of gloriously gloomy tunes that goes under the name of The Year Is One and is destined to be flung down from mount Svart Records on November 11.

Berate the gods, but find some small crumb of comfort, for we have a stream of the album in all its bereft and abandoned glory. Herein you’ll find tracks whose hope-leached titles such as I Am A Name On Your Funeral Wreath, She Died A Virgin and World Of No Light might not fully indicate how strangely invigorating the album is, built on the sturdiest of riffs, hinting at Candlemass with a more rustic bent but still with a genuine emotional bent. And if you ever wondered what doom would sound like if it was given a good whipping by Amebix, make a pilgrimage to (or just click on the track) Jesus Christ, Son Of Satan.

Enough verbiage! Roll up your sleeves, raise your fists in deity rebuke and shake your soul to The Year Is One Below!

Follow your destiny to Spiritus Mortis’s Facebook page here!

And seek salvation by pre-ordering The Year Is One on CD or vinyl!

Jonathan Selzer

Having freelanced regularly for the Melody Maker and Kerrang!, and edited the extreme metal monthly, Terrorizer, for seven years, Jonathan is now the overseer of all the album and live reviews in Metal Hammer. Bemoans his obsolete superpower of being invisible to Routemaster bus conductors, finds men without sideburns slightly circumspect, and thinks songs that aren’t about Satan, swords or witches are a bit silly.