The passage above precedes the CD version (but not the vinyl issue, curiously enough) of Savannah, GA metal band Baroness' latest release. While some might assume that this is merely intellectual posturing from another “hipster metal” band, the words serve as a thematic correlate to Blue Record’s lyrics, and also seem to represent a mission statement of sorts for the band. Sure, claiming to be inspired by Lovecraft, Poe—or literature and art in general—doesn’t exactly dispel notions of artifice so prevalent to this scene, but guitarist and singer John Dyer Baizley (who studied at the Rhode Island School of Design before essentially sequestering himself in the woods for a few years) doesn’t seem prone to such petty conceits.

Blue Record presents a noticeable stylistic departure from 2007’s excellent Red Album, and the personnel shift (former lead guitarist Brian Blickle was replaced with Peter Adams prior to the recording) is at least partially responsible. While Red was full of elements of stoner/sludge metal, and even traces of hardcore, Blue hearkens back to 70s prog metal with its continuous, suite-like arc, repeated melodic motifs, and a lot of (comparatively) clear singing. With John Congleton’s clean production, each player is heard, and the mix is well balanced. However, most of the jaw-dropping moments come from drummer Allen Blickle and guitarists Adams and Baizley. Blickle’s powerful rhythms propel most songs along at a swift gallop, but come thundering down during climaxes. Adams and Baizley’s harmonized leads and fuzzed-out, searing solos are technically impressive, certainly, but they more importantly express soulful nostalgia for a bygone era that modern metal seems to have forgotten. 

Though Baizley revealed to Decibel magazine that he avoids writing lyrics until “the last minute,” the resulting verses on Blue Record are steeped in bucolic and Biblical imagery. It’s Baizley's varied cadence, however, that truly impresses; without his unique presence, lines like “Lest they firmament tread,” “stallions on the eiderdown” and “crawl past the soft, spiraled sinewy earth / ‘soiled dove’ / steal the fruit of its jaws” would be hard to sell with such Newsom-esque levels of confidence, nor would they sound so entirely natural.

In terms of sequencing, Blue Record is nearly flawless: “Bullhead’s Psalm” establishes an eerie swampland setting, its distant, murky Hammond organ quickly overtaken by rapid guitar chugging and tricky drum work from Blickle on the following track, “The Sweetest Curse.” This pattern is repeated throughout—instrumental segue, followed by distinctly southern flavored metal—but it never tires or feels rote. The songs themselves flow like mini-epics; standout “A Horse Called Golgotha” cycles through about three different styles before Adams ushers in a shifting psychedelic bridge, replete with horse whinny-mimicking guitar solo. This typically economical mid-section concludes with Blickle’s pounding fill segueing into a dramatic—and truly triumphant—outro. Regardless of your stance on “hipster metal,” there’s no denying that Baroness have crafted not only one of the most perfectly executed and sequenced metal albums of the year, but also a record that’s endlessly fun and satisfying to listen to.

Last Word: There’s a reason that both purely metal outlets (Decibel) and those who rarely feature the genre (well, this site, among others) are praising Blue Record, and you owe it to yourself to listen and find out what that reason is.

Review By:
Lukas Suveg

IN REVIEW ONLINE