Wiegedood
De Doden Hebben Het Goed

The Church of Ra rises forcefully every time one crosses Belgian soil in Ghent. It towers in its dark imagery, where shadows voraciously feed on every glimmer of light. It shakes off every dust particle and shines anew, each time in a new form. When the mother creature is asleep, aka the AmenRa, other emissaries take charge of bringing this unusual artist collective back to the fore. This time, the corollary is named Wiegedood, and it is fueled by the forces of Gilles Demolder (Øathbreaker), Wim Coppers (Rise & Fall), and Levy Seynaeve (Hessian, AmenRa). The manifesto with which they appeared in May is called "De Doden Habben Het Goed", and within its hermeticism of four compositions, it secretes the atmospheric soul of raw black metal, capable of offering apocalyptic glimpses and connotations of a sinister aura, as the Church of Ra demands.

The unrest of a leaden sky, driven by a lashing wind made of violent gusts, is the perfect setting to place the rain of tremolo picking that overwhelms and inundates from the very first moment of listening. Wiegedood operates in a very simple and essential manner, well-concealed behind the incessant storm of blast beats that aptly surrounds the tension-filled and dramatic climaxes of their proposal. There is no desire to create lavish or excessively eclectic solutions, rather to trace a short, yet intense, path studded with spectral melodies, where cold apparitions can prevail. That the element of mystery has always been a trump card for the Church of Ra is no secret, so if you are familiar with the artistic concept that distinguishes it, you know what to expect from this debut by Wiegedood. In this, they manage not to fall into self-referentialism, but instead continue to create layers upon layers of that strongly ritualistic entity (in terms of creative idea) that seems to join together in the thread of Ariadne launched by AmenRa more than a decade ago. The sounds emanating from this "De Doden Habben Het Goed" highlight an unstoppable desire to create these desolate landscapes, where black metal gallops exacerbate pain and suffering. There are no intrusions from the hardcore, sludge, and post-metal shores that characterize the main bands of the trio involved in Wiegedood, but rather only a deadly black that pulses, pulses, until it explodes in the final minutes of "Onder.Gaan | Voznesenie", where an ethereal reverberation of a female voice accompanies us to the conclusion.

The ceremony is over, this time without Colin van Eeckhout presiding. Nothing to complain about, though, as this small side project manages to keep the flame alive and the Church of Ra, as always, delivers musical satisfaction. It won't innovate anything, it won't be a groundbreaking release, but if you find the time for a listen, Wiegedood will surely make themselves heard. Without a doubt.