TERMINAL: SALOME SIT WHEREVER THE F*CK THEY WANT

I’ve been waiting for Terminal, the debut full-length from Salome, pretty much since I heard the band’s self-titled EP back in 2007. And I’m happy report that it was worth the wait.

What sets Salome apart from the doom metal crowd is that they never do quite what one would expect from their genre. Doom’s most satisfying aspect might be, as the brilliant Justin Foley would put it, that the genre allows you really feel the weight and physical exertion of the music — but it’s biggest pratfall is that it can become redundant and boring in a hurry. For too many doom bands, drone isn’t the appetizer — it’s the main course. It’s like they’re testing the listener: “Oh, yeah? You think you’re hard? Well, how long can you listen to this shit? IT’S LIKE WATCHING PAINT DRY, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

And so by the standards of their peers, Salome might be considered progressive — downright schizophrenic, even. I will freely admit that I will most likely never listen to the seventeen minute experiment in feedback known as “An Accident of History” again, but unless you have really, really bad ADHD and literally can’t sit still under any circumstances, it’s the only cut on the album that will test your patience. For the most part, Salome songs are in a constant state of flux, seguing from one section of pure, unadulterated sonic evil to the next in a manner seemingly designed to repeatedly remind you, “Oh, hey, this band is awesome.”

The only word I can think of to describe Aaron Deal’s drum playing is “mighty;” you can feel it right at the peak of your skull every time he hits his kit. Guitarist Rob Moore has his work cut out for him, as Salome is without a bass player, but his guitars always soar in a way that I actually think is pretty rare for this genre. He’s slinging mud, not wallowing in it; when I listen to him play, the random phrase “gut slugs” often pops into my mind.

Then there’s vocalist Kat Katz. It would be wrong to call her a “secret weapon” at this point, especially since she appeared on Agoraphobic Nosebleed’s Agorapocalypse last year. But her vocals really do feel special. Some credit should obviously go to Deal, who produced the album; it’s easy to see how Katz could be a “You have to see her live to really understand” sort of vocalist, but her unique personality absolutely shines through in the performances on Terminal. I’m sorry to say that I’m having a hard time articulating what it is, exactly, that makes Katz “pop,” so to speak. But I really think it comes down to this admittedly ethereal assertion: she sounds authentically scary, always. Not like a metal singer screaming because that’s what metal singers do, but like a crazy fucking THING bellowing because it’s being kept in captivity when what it’s meant to be doing is ripping your fucking throat out for a snack. And the fractured, journal-of-a-mental-patient nature of her lyrics (example: “Convert me to your truth/This lived/This happened”) only adds to the effect. Like vocalists ranging from J.R. Hayes to Julie Christmas, you listen to Kat Katz and you think, She ain’t faking it.

Up until now, I think that Salome have been in a kind of weird position in the scene; a substantial amount of people knew who they were, but it was kind of a challenge to get ahold of their EP, so if you hadn’t had the opportunity to see them live, you might not know how powerful they were. Hopefully, Terminal will change that. Salome aren’t a flash-in-the-pan; they’re a giant, monstrous force to be reckoned with. Get the fuck out of their way.

(four out of five horns)

-AR

Salome’s Terminal comes out November 9 on Profound Lore. You can listen to the song “Master Failure” here.