If you’ve followed this blog at all, you’re already well aware that I have a very soft spot for a particular kind of heavy, glacial, melodic sludge metal (see: Isis, Cult of Luna, Mouth of the Architect, Spotlights, etc).
My friend Alex knows this, and so when he heard Bloodletting, the latest full length from California post metal outfit Mountaineer, his first reaction was to send me the link.
A few songs in, my first reaction was to buy the record. Said record has a label on it that says, “For Fans Of: Cult of Luna, Alcest, Torche, and Baroness.” That’s a pretty bold FFO if you can’t back it up. Luckily, Bloodletting proves it in spades.
Having ordered this during the pandemic, there was also a bit of a wait on this record. Despite the band being in California, the record label is located in Europe, where they faced such strict travel restrictions that they weren’t even able to travel to the post office to ship them. But each day that passed between ordering the record and its receiving, the luster didn’t wane a single degree.
“Blood of the Book” opens the record somewhat deceptively. Unaccompanied, wordless voices create a thick harmony that sounds far more like Grizzly Bear than Isis. But when the voices finally are accompanied, it’s with a wall of crushing distortion rather than the retro synths or processed banjos the first few bars might have forecast. When the lyrics finally enter, they’re delivered through a guttural bellow that is as far from the opening harmonies as the human voice can get.
Throughout the record, Mountaineer keeps playing with the juxtaposition of heaviness and melody, gloom and light. The vocal line of “The Weeds I Have Tended” certainly has a clear melody, but they almost sound screamed themselves. “Shot Through With Sunlight” meditates on a minute of clean guitar before exploding in an avalanche of amp-splitting chords. The last two minutes imbue a mournful guitar line with the same heaviness that would make the audience (remember when we had those?) unsure whether to mosh or to weep. After a patient, five minute build, the major keyed, clean-voiced climax of “To Those We’ve Said Goodbye” is practically triumphant.
“Bloodletting” opens the B side with dour heaviness, but the vocals remain clean and subdued, practically monklike in their near-chanting. The opening chords of “Apart” sound almost like it’s going to break into an indie rock ballad before the drums and guitar noise join in. The first few moments of “Ghost Story” play almost like straight post rock, clean guitars spiraling around eachother. Then, it explodes in a dirge like wall of distorted guitars and crashing cymbals.
It never exactly breaks from the conventions of its genre. But it doesn’t have to—nor would I want it to. Its eight tracks cover nearly fifty minutes, most of the songs going beyond the six-minute mark (the longest breaks eight). Tempos rarely rise above 75bpm, martial drums lurching along with the crushing guitars. And yo—this is my shit. It’s not necessarily a unique sound—Cult of Luna, Isis, and Neurosis established it pretty firmly in the mid 2000s, and since then, hundreds of bands have sought to attain the same sort of sound.
But even though Mountaineer wears their influence so plainly on their sleeve (or at least the hype sticker on that sleeve), it never feels like a cheap imitation. They feel more like the sons of those pioneers rather than phony copycats groping for the lowest hanging fruit.
Instead, Bloodletting feels like an Essential Record in the canon of slow, heavy music. It hits with just as much passion, beauty, and power as any of the heavy hitters. It is an absolutely gorgeous record, but that prettiness never interferes with its dark heaviness. It is absolutely spellbinding, and despite whatever other records come out this year, I already know that this will be near the top of my year-end list.