Conffinworm may mix black and doom metal but the resulting sound is as straight forward as it gets. We could save ourselves the treatment for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and say that they simply play sludge metal. The definition fits them just as well. It truly encapsulates the harshness of their sound, the moods they evoke and the power they so clearly possess.
The vocals are the blackened part. The vocalist goes simply by D, so let’s call him The Dude. The Dude could front Mayhem if he wanted to. His screams are phantasmagoric, ungodly yelling spat out not through the mouth but through a blistered throat and a frozen diaphragm. Like most good black metal throats, The Dude’s approach is over the top. Constantly on the verge of hysteria he seems to infrequently take a break through the use of monstruous guttural belches. But mostly, The Dude is just there, indifferent to the tune and as melodic and harmonic as nails on a chalkboard.
The doom parts of Coffinworm are implicit. Their songs rarely come to a dragging pace. Most of them are delivered in a violent mid tempo and with the exception of “Strip Nude for Your Killer” there is nary a painfully slow moment in When All Became None. But all of us in this hole may have noticed that any band playing sludge is automatically lumped in the most morose of genres.
All in all, the sound of Coffinworm is nothing out of the ordinary. There isn't a whole lot of originality, just. Violent sludge with blackened vocals and, at times, a hardcore drive and that when done like this, is more than what's needed to shape up a good metal album. These are songs loaded with vitriol and laid down with fury. Coffinworm is out to terrorize us.
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