Collapsed Vein’s Pain Communion opens with layers of slow methodical soul crushing dives, the sound—rich and full— immediately immerses the listener in the world that Kevin George has sought to sonically create and more so has achieved with driving clarity; something I can write with assuredly thanks to my habit of listening to an album before reading the accompanying notes: my initial thoughts and descriptions mostly matching word for word.
I did know on first listen that Collapsed Vein is a solo project; the knowledge only serving to make the full backing vocals that are dropped just the right amount back in the mix so as to be ethereal all the more incredible; the use of percussion to ignite the track’s narrative phenomenal. By quite the coincidence track one ‘Cadaver Synod’ is about the very same event the entire album last reviewed is (Warrior Pope A Morbid Parody of Justice):
Kevin George
Pope John VIII had the body of previous Pope Formosus exhumed so as to put it on trail for crimes against the Church, in the process finding the cadaver guilty and slicing off its three ordaining fingers so as to thoroughly annul any of the blessings, decrees and ordinations carried out by Formosus.
It sets the bar for what is to come across the rest of Pain Communion’s ten tracks, the incredible quality and commitment never dropping beneath that standard for a second.
‘Pissgrave’ opens like an audio vacuum, sucking all breath from the listener, from there saturating them with aplomb in the “crushing doom with cathedral-like atmospherics” described in the release pack. The vocals—powerful, hard, dark, determined, driving—somehow manage to drift across the sound as though smoke from its smouldering fire; a cultivated solo adds solemnity to this comment on the folly of real estate in death that aptly includes an excerpt from Crowley “The Pentagram” too.
‘Deviant Burial’ is gloriously monumental and towering, which isn’t to say what’s gone before isn’t, but that the assent continues. It is here that the sense of ‘cathedral’ first really struck me, I think because the precise feeling it creates is of being in one while basked in a glorious sunlight that finds its way glaringly through each and every window present regardless of its direction. Lyrically continuing the theme, the idea of how exactly someone is stuck in the ground equalling what happens next for them—rejected from Heaven or prevented from returning to life, as examples—is considered.
And while many of the ideas and traditions might indeed sound ridiculous, it isn’t ridicule they’re met with here, but instead a deep-seated contempt for the fact that humanity has and still treats such absurdities with the greatest of severity.
Incredibly the elevation continues with ‘Children of God’; a truly poetic hymn on the subject of death’s futility. If these words had been put in front of me and attributed to a just found work of T. S. Eliot, I wouldn’t have doubted it for a second.
‘May Your Name Still Endure’ is the view from the now reached mountain top; crisp in sound as such lofty air despite the numerous layers and bounty of nuances: Pain Communion enthralling for the production and mix alone. Be blissfully overwhelmed in the audio awesomeness of it, the swinging purposeful unforgiving strides conjured in the mind; or surf in awe on the complexities pinning it all together beneath the surface: either way, such are the proportions of both no two rides are ever the same.
‘Inevitable End’ is absolutely dripping with that demise-of-the-world melancholy only found in doom; it conjures feelings of narrow eyes looking upon dark clouds burdened with storm and desperate for release, while the lyrics are a sombre love story that absolutely highlights the quality of Kevin George’s words never mind the perfectly fitting solo the track opens with. According to the release notes Pain Communion took over a decade to manifest: in that time it’s more than evident not a second was wasted.
‘Invictus’ whips itself up into a tumultuous storm capable of moving the ocean beds of the seven seas. Latin for unbeaten, the vocals rampage like a wild horse on a beach through the troubled water’s breaking wakes; while lyrically a declaration to reject that most vile and unnatural to the self.
The release pack describes Pain Communion as a “harrowing exploration of mortality, religious decay, and isolation” and it certainly feels no stone is left unturned in that endeavour when reaching ‘Overwhelmed With Bereavement’; a track so vibrant it feels independent of any audio restraints, alive in its own right and free in the flesh to relentlessly pursue anyone unwilling to acknowledge the truth for the utterly fearful reality doing so will bring.
As though in summary of all that has gone before, ‘The Devil’s Orchard’ lyrically captures the pitiful condition known as life while musically revelling in what can be the magnificent and glorious outcome of the absurdity. It could be said that the journey—for that’s truly what a listen to Pain Communion is—finishes here, as closing track ‘The Eternal Idol’ is a Black Sabbath cover. But given how well the lyrics work with this opus into the abyss it’s a fitting tribute to those who played a part influencing its creator in the first place.
Collapsed Vein:
- Kevin George – The Primogenitor: Guitars / Bass / Drums / Vocals / Keyboards
Pain Communion:
- Produced, Mixed and Mastered by Kevin George.
- Recorded @ Executioner213 Recordings (Great Falls, MT)
- Additional guitars & bass recorded @ home (Kalispell, MT)
- Guest appearance: Aleister Crowley – Poem on ‘Pissgrave’
- ‘Inevitable End’ dedicated in memory of RJR
- Cover Art: Septian Fajrianto
- Basement Photo: Vanessa Parchen
- Graveyard Photo: Kevin George
- Logo: Jason Roberts
Links:
* * *
If digging what you’re reading / hearing and would like to help new and independent artists reach a wider audience, please remember sharing is caring and the more you share the more you care xxx
(sharing icons located bottom of page)
* * *
Thanks for reading 🙂
N. P. Ryan
To receive notifications of future posts of poetry—be they happy, sarcastic or sad—music history and reviews, the odd bit of this and that plus the occasional stab at promoting my books, please enter an email address below.
N. P. Ryan 