Label: Nucler Blast
Release date: April 19th, 2024
My Dying Bride is as steadfastly committed to sadness, misery, and existential despair as a Victorian widow who refuses to remove her mourning veil. While others merely flirt with darkness, this band has lived in it for over three decades, sipping tea with the Reaper and writing heartbreaking poetry.
In an era where many metal bands are content to growl about vague horrors, Aaron Stainthorpe continues to craft verses that could easily be found in a particularly grim poetry anthology. Each song is drenched in poetic despair, as though he’s spent the past few years locked in a candlelit library, scribbling verses while sighing deeply into the abyss. His dedication to writing has always been evident, a quality that resonates throughout the band’s latest effort, “A Mortal Binding”.
From the first notes of “Her Dominion”, it’s clear that this album isn’t here to lift anyone’s spirits. It was conceived as yet another chapter in an endless elegy of existential woe. The production is richer than before, lending everything an almost cinematic weight, though a film based on this album would likely end with everyone dead, lost, or existentially unfulfilled. This is eerily well demonstrated in “Thornwyck Hymn”, a track that feels like a warm embrace from a haunted specter of a bygone era, gently insisting that you surrender to the sorrow.
The band’s grieving poet-in-chief on “A Mortal Binding” sounds more passionate and tormented than he has in years. After a somewhat restrained performance on “The Ghost of Orion”, Aaron has dusted off his inner demon and let it roar once more. His clean vocals are so expressive that one can easily imagine Hamlet in the throes of an emotional breakdown. Deeply theatrical yet never cliché, he strikes a perfect balance of melancholy without tipping into full gothic novel protagonist wailing in the rain levels of melodrama.
The return of his guttural growls is what really stands out, though. They are deeper and more commanding than they’ve been in years, and for the first time in a while, he sounds like he’s properly enjoying being utterly miserable. It’s particularly evident on “The Apocalyptist”, an 11-minute slab of doomy goodness that brings back the spirit of “Turn Loose the Swans”. When he roars through a song, it feels like a sermon delivered by a particularly furious medieval priest. When he mourns on “Crushed Embers”, you can practically hear the black veil being drawn.
The true MVPs here are guitarists Andrew Craighan and Neil Blanchett, whose riffs feel less like mere notes and more like waves of pure sorrow crashing over you. Craighan’s guitar work remains the backbone of the My Dying Bride sound, weaving labyrinthine melodies that seem composed in a crypt by candlelight. They don’t need elaborate symphonic arrangements to set the mood – just six strings, a boatload of distortion, and the collective sadness of a thousand poets. Mark Mynett’s mix enhances this atmosphere, ensuring that Lena Abé’s basslines aren’t just present but essential. Her playing is more prominent than ever, snaking through the compositions with a gritty, mournful presence – like a particularly annoyed poltergeist – adding another haunting layer to the band’s signature melancholy.
Shaun MacGowan’s violin makes its sorrowful return, because let’s be honest – what’s a My Dying Bride album without at least one moment of existential despair over a cup of tea? The 2nd of Three Bells tolls for the doomed, weaving mournful strings and crushing riffs into a soundtrack fit for weeping into the abyss. If despair had a soundtrack, this would be track two.
Sure, it’s not an album for casual listeners. This is the kind of record that demands patience, introspection, and perhaps a melancholic tea party with your inner demons on a particularly bleak Tuesday afternoon. But for those who understand MDB’s misery, this is a well-crafted doom album. There’s no need for gimmicks, no sudden electronic experiments, no desperate attempts to stay relevant.
