Pallbearer: Forgotten Days | 4ZZZ Brisbane 102.1FM

- Prior to the release of Pallbearer’s new record, nearly half of it had either been put out as singles or as part of the Quicksand of Existing EP. By virtue of how enormous every song is, the early taste isn’t spoiling the meal like that sweet treat your mum warned you about having before eating dinner. A hefty serve of material has been whipped up in the three years since 2017’s Heartless and I think it’s fair to say the Little Rock group have walked deeper into doom territory. Forgotten Days doesn’t divert too far from what we’ve come to know from Pallbearer but there is some shift in focus. These daunting song lengths wind along to the impending end that's on its way. Instead of pushing through the black cloud, the band is now coming to terms with the fact the end is both imminent and unavoidable.

Forgotten Days lulls us in with a groovy stoner lick, a riff sounding like a juggernaut as it ploughs, ignoring any resistance, through everything it comes up against. A minor interlude pushes up the level of clarity and finds a moment to survey our surrounds all before a scorching guitar solo blaze chars what life we know to ashes. All bridges to the outside have now been torched. Our only reprieve is seven songs and close to three quarters of an hour away. Riverbed and Stasis complement each other and reinforce the impression of being trapped in the middle of a wasteland. The former is a melancholic slow burner with lines about cauterising the wound like amputation with a burning blade. In this downtrodden trudge, we’ve accepted the loss and all that can be done is minimise the impact and stop the flow. Stasis is the punctuation mark to Riverbed’s statement. The songs title makes up the refrain of its last minute. Before that point though, an organic composition germinates like its own living being while some phases / processed sound buzzes around as the plant’s pollinating bee. On the other side of the midpoint-mammoth is Silver Wings, the shortest song on the record, followed by a marathon of defeatism. Silver Wings begins its burrow after a shade over a minute as it digs under the usual crust of endless sludge guitars. It does find some room to let things breathe. The time for said breath is only moments before an instrumental wallop sends us tunnelling through more earth. What I found most noticeable here and on each track subsequently as I listened back is Pallbearer’s endless fascination with a wave-like intensity in texture and volume. Masterminded by a monstrous drum sound, all other elements restrain themselves ever so slightly before dumping another layer of grim grime over you. Pallbearer pick their moments, they call their shots superbly. Doom slowly swings down like a rusty sword of Damocles. You know something is coming. You’re only waiting for it to strike.

I should have known, solely from the muted, dreary album cover that this was going to be a consuming and heavy listen and just how it would made me feel. You need to go for a walk to look at birds and plants and shit just to regain some semblance of positivity after having anything optimistic ground out of you. Now that I'm back in emotional balance, there are still infinite avenues to explore in this labyrinth: I’m going to bring a six pack of Sobah and a packed lunch and continue my descent.

- Matt Lynch.
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