Monday 14 June 2021

Wampyric Solitude "Carpathian Melancholy" (2020)

 

Intrigued by the despairing loneliness found among the deeper carvings on Lost Ages of Darkness, I set my sights on finding another record. Operating under a variety of other monikers, this anonymous musician's other incarnations where all to brash and obvious for my taste. The hazardous machinations of militant percussion and Dungeon Synth failing to evoke the magic its intentions clearly strode for under an awkward and bumbling aesthetic. So I returned to the aptly named Wampyric Solitude to find a different approach to a familiar feeling with a melancholic title all to fitting.

Pivoting from the contained variety of shorter tracks, Carpathian Melancholy lurches into the lengthy as its five tracks, averaging ten minutes each, births its inspiration through long, yearning passageways of brooding unease and distant tension. Minimal in nature, its groaning synths steadily build atmospheres that are ripe in the background, meditative as they sink into the subconscious of a distracted mind. Its opening number, The Night And The Sorrow, can't help but carry a subtle uplift in cloudy gloom that fondly reminds me Brian Eno's An Ending (Ascent). Its starlit astral synth tone, cutting through the reclusive lingering doom.

Each track pivots and this This Sanguine Affliction steers us to the smoky Noir Jazz vibes again as its haunting hi hat plucks at ones sanity with its grounded tempo. The song musters a rise in its conclusion as the eeriness gathers gusto but mostly it is a slow, drawn out affair of mood setting. The title track is the one song to offset this template of slow, methodical brooding. Its sorrowful opening strings suddenly pivot past the mid point, erupting with a startling piano, passive drum beat and grave vocals. They wretch in pain, smothered in a predictable reverb, howling despairing lyrics. Eventually some hazy distortion guitar is ushered in. Its tone intriguing but the song is locked into its depressive state, paralyzed in repetition.

I don't feel too strongly about it. Maybe it comes shy of something grander but overall this stretching out of duration made the music serve mood and atmosphere more so than its own spectacle. The softness and subtlety I once praised feels lost in its lengthy nature but still this record has offered another flavor of background music, for focus on other tasks, that I may return to on occasion if inclined.

Rating: 5/10