No such uplifting feeling is generated by the music itself, but neither is From These Wounds entirely funereal. What stands out most about this album is its lush beauty. Often, I'm reminded of the heavier, slower parts of Green Carnation's Light of Day, Day of Darkness, and occasionally find hints of later GC. The symphonic elements, for example, at times sound similar to the keys on A Blessing in Disguise, and some of the riffing in that album's "As Life Flows By" is evoked in "The Architecture of Loss." Usually, though, the guitars are suitably lugubrious, except in the case of solos, which provide welcome (albeit brief and sparsely occurring) changes of pace, not by altering the relentlessly slow tempo, but by their stylistic contrast to their surroundings. Most incongruous is the classic Slash-style solo in "Vagrant God," and most enjoyable are the simple yet exotic, serpentine ones in several other tracks, that of "Pendulum" especially memorable because of the way the music swells into it. Such solos aren't new for Funeral, but those on this album are more striking than any I've heard in sampling their earlier work.

A genuine break from the past comes in the person of new singer Frode Forsmo, of the wonderfully weird Minas Tirith. A dramatic change from the lifeless, ethereal females on Funeral's previous recordings, his earthy, caressing voice makes even the most morbid lyrics sound soothing. He is at his most entrancing in "The Architecture of Loss," which also features From These Wounds's most beautiful melodies. Forsmo's tone is less remote and more predominantly gentle on this album than on Dissertatio Prohetae (2004), his other band's last release. He does, however, indulge in some Minas Tirith-style gritty, animalistic sounds in "Pendulum" and line-ending, testy flourishes in the chorus for "This Barren Skin," his intensity there an effective contrast to the sedately delivered verses. Forsmo's vocals bring an entirely new aesthetic to Funeral's music, serving their aim of not restricting themselves to "pure funeral doom" and giving this album "a more mature and earnest, even accessible feel," as stated by Tabu Records.

But perhaps they succeeded better than they intended: in announcements made during last spring and summer, Funeral described their next CD (for which preproduction was then underway) as taking a "back to the roots, ...much more dark and doomy approach [but] still with the funeral-groove intact." Whatever mood they strive for, I hope Funeral will find a way to diversify their sound. Lighter tone notwithstanding, From These Wounds is likely to warrant only an occasional play by anyone outside of funeral doom devotees and other masochistic/lethargic types. Although this album borders on chill metal, that still means restriction to a particular mood, one for which there are more interesting sources of satisfaction. There's no building action on From These Wounds, and the sameness of its somber mood and slow tempo isn't countered by enough sonic variety to engage the listener throughout its considerable length (with or without the bonus track). Besides letting Forsmo loose more, Funeral need only look to their own innate but largely unexplored quirkiness - represented by those wtf guitar solos - to make their plodding musical procession a more entertaining one.

written by Maud

Playing time: 64:57