But Created in the Image of Suffering by King Woman is loathe to the idea.
This is textbook doomgaze, which means the riffs are heavy and the atmospheres are lush. Bandleader Kristina Esfandiari’s mournful croon hangs above the sludgy cacophony as she airs her laments. Her lyrics are unabashedly spiritual: “I’d wash your feet/with my dirty hair.” “I’m your garden of Eden /I’m your promise land / You deny me the freedom / Still / I’m innocent.” “You break the bread and you drink the wine.” Her melodies wouldn’t be out of place accompanied by an acoustic guitar.
But the plague-like storm created by the instruments is a fitting world for her sorrow. The guitars are low and slow and the drums hit like an earthquake. The record’s gloom is singularly focused, taking few moments for breath.
The deepest of these breaths is the seven minute “Hierophant,” a love song that treats the lover as the divine. “If you’re a holy church, I want to worship.” The record actually shifts into a major key here, borrowing a few tricks from post rock as it cycles around the same melody.