I want to provide an analogy that’s vital to understanding what might be my forerunner for Album of the Year.
The caterpillar cocoons, resting, sleeping, evolving, growing its wings. It gestates in the cocoon, becoming something new, something dangerous and powerful. It becomes the butterfly, camouflaged from the hunter by its beauty. It is not that the caterpillar never existed; the caterpillar simply served its purpose and it is now time to evolve into the next stage of existence.
Too much? Maybe. But sometimes we have to move into analogy in order to talk about what is difficult to place into words, namely the evolution of a band. I hope that the members of Temple of the Fuzz Witch will forgive my candor, but their first two albums were solid, but underwhelming to my ears.
The riffs were tight and damn good, the rhythm section was solid to the core, and the vocals sliced through the mix just right. The songwriting was there. But it wasn’t quite what I was looking for. I heard some things there that showed considerable promise, but I didn’t see the promise realized quite yet. There was a touch of scene to them, a touch of trying to distinguish themselves from the herd but not necessarily knowing the right approach.
The Butterfly Becomes the Monster: How Temple of the Fuzz Witch Saved the Heavy Underground
Well, friends, welcome to the new Temple of the Fuzz Witch. Welcome to a ride that will save your day, week, month, year. This new Temple of the Fuzz Witch…is simply sublime.
Now is the point where a disclaimer becomes necessary. Apotheosis, well, it might not be for everyone. But it’s perfect for me. For a while, I thought that doom was the world I wanted to occupy and to a certain extent, that’s still true. However, I have to say that my view towards doom is evolving. It’s not the end all be all. I personally believe that it needs evolution in order to survive and flourish. It deserves to survive and flourish.
To me, the best way to do that is to inject other subgenres into its somewhat sanctified space. Sludge, death metal, black metal. Take the best of those other genres and inject a little bit of it into the world of doom. Personally, I believe that “blackened doom” is the next evolution of doom. My own band is exploring this and I think some of the best bands in the heavy underground are too. One of those, somewhat inexplicably, is Temple of the Fuzz Witch.
Enough of the past. Enough of the present. Let’s get to the future.
Apotheosis is a fascinating album for what it brings to the table. The same brooding, heavy, elemental riffs and chord progressions are there. They’re groovy and fun and longstanding fans will relish their appearance on what I believe to be an album that breaks considerable ground. It’ll keep the stoner/doom crowd sated and that’s what you kind of have to do when you’re evolving.
Then…
The black metal starts.
What a pleasant surprise this was. The blood curdling screams. The pounding double kick. The hum and rumble of bass applied to speed and solidity. The tremolo picking of the guitar. It’s all there, all of the elements that I want in 2024. It’s not some trite attempt at sounding like Emperor. It’s not funereally slow and ponderous like Mizmor and Hell, two of my favorite bands (though it does have moments like that). It’s not party black metal like Immortal, made for good times in dark spaces. It’s simply Temple of the Fuzz Witch and, personally, that’s an amazing thing in my book.
The first song, A Call to Prey, is the ideal opener for an album by a band “changing” sounds. There are still the bludgeoning riffs and colossal drumlines – these are familiar from the first two albums. But the vocals, which pop up about 35 seconds into the song, immediately mark the band as having made significant changes. The gritty violence of black metal is initially most felt here. The song could be seen by many as an appetizer to what is to come.
Gone, at least in this song, are the hauntingly charged vocals of the first two albums. Instead, vocals are pushed into Norwegian darkness, albeit not so high that longstanding listeners might be put off. Instead, our vocalist here pushes himself into the midrange, an apt selection as this song falls somewhere closer to doom or stoner metal than black metal. But, as mentioned before, this is simply the appetizer. The main courses and dessert are yet to come.
Wight is a sludgy blackened doom masterpiece. There is no room to breathe here. Clean vocals return, a welcome change for some. While I would have preferred a consistent focus on extreme vocals, I think this was the right choice for Temple of the Fuzz Witch. The song quickly mutates however into a Black Sabbath meets Immortal meets Eyehategod dirge. Tremolo picking cuts through the mix, allowing a new element to creep into the songs that A Call to Prey did not utilize.
This ability to continually add new elements to the songs as the album progresses is one of the strengths of the band and shows that they are not changing for the sake of change, but because it serves the songs that they’re writing. By the time that the extreme vocals return, we are able to see a more cohesive vision at work here. This is a band that is eager to challenge not just themselves, but listeners as well. Speaking with some bias as a lover of black metal and a lover of doom, I could not be more excited to take them up on their dare.
Nephilim is potentially my favorite song on the album. It starts with an Alice in Chains-esque sludge with the vocals to boot. As the harsh vocals enter the song, the guitars sustain a chord – we are sustained along with this chord, waiting for what is to come. The tasteful balance between clean and harsh vocals has to be a calculated decision. Not only does it work for these songs, especially as they chug chug chug their way along, but it also works to tastefully welcome us to this new era.
There was a moment upon listening to this song that I wondered if they were going to move in a more Alice in Chains type of direction. Then, right around the 3 minute mark, the riffs drift into their own purgatory. Doom is sped up to the extreme and suddenly it is a battering deluge of black metal, complete with blast beats, thundering drums, and the aforementioned haunting screams of the vocalist. A true treat, this song – it’s one that listeners should spend some considerable time with.
Bow Down is a true crowd pleaser. For fans who are less excited by blackened doom than myself, this is the song for you. I found its euphoria edged with darkness to be fascinating and, for me at least, somewhat of an initial turnoff. But the thing is, this song works! It’s an amazing single and it’s perfect to draw people into the experience.
My only problem with the song is that, taken along with the rest of the album, it seems to be a bit too much of a concession. By the time the harsh vocals come in, my worries that the band was trying to dance with the listener a little too much were assuaged – this is the new sound after all. But, if there is a criticism of this album from my part, it actually lies with one of the lead singles. Ultimately, this might be the most popular song from the album, but I think it’s the only song that isn’t quite essential.
Sanguine brings in the sludge, starting with walls of feedback and slow, eerie arpeggios. The effects on the guitars are simply sublime in the true sense of the word: they’re beautiful but still inflict a chill on your spine. As the song progresses to its heartbeat, clean vocals return but they feel more purposeful than in “Bow Down” for example – these are the only vocal choices that could have been made for this song.
There is a real unease to this song, one that is supposed to infect the listener. I wonder, perhaps wearing too much of a Freudian hat, whether the tone of this song reflects the unease that many bands feel as their sound evolves. Either way, this one is not to be missed and is a shining example of how to pair multiple genres together.
Cursed reeks of New Orleans. There’s some Eyehategod, some Crowbar in there without a doubt. The dynamics of the drums are among the best parts of this song – they carry what could be repetitive into a new, fresh realm that keeps the listener waiting for what’s to come. The vocal melodies at work here are sophisticated and bring to mind elements of Husker Du. When the harsh vocals enter the mix, they come as a point of emphasis – it is as if they are not begging but demanding that the listener pay attention to what they’re doing.
This demand is felt throughout the album, but it stands out more here. Clean vocals moving into harsh vocals are a theme throughout that are perhaps the best example. Temple of the Fuzz Witch doesn’t simply say “we scream now”; instead, they’re saying that you better listen because something important is happening.
Raze, maybe the eeriest song on the album, slowly builds not just musically but in terms of volume. The slow fade in is mixing and mastering done at its best – I love little touches like this. By the time the full volume sets in, we are disturbed and uncertain and the song delivers by emphasizing this feeling in the listener. Here, we don’t start with clean vocals and move into harsh.
Instead, Temple of the Fuzz Witch demands once again that we pay attention. Clean vocals will carry along longtime listeners just fine in this song, but “Raze” specifically seems to be a bit of a statement that there is a massive change here. The stoner/doom elements shine, but they partially shine out the most because of the shadows that surround them.
Apostate is a song that begins with dynamics. Distorted guitars play well with less distorted ones, the bass serves as the bedrock, and the drums accentuate the mood. It’s artfully done and more bands should listen to this song as a template for how to set a tone and develop throughout a song. Slow, uncomfortable, and borderline asynchronous at times – this is a band that has studied their music and studied their instruments and learned how to use them to serve the song, not themselves.
Finally, album closer Ashes is the perfect conclusion to the thesis statement that they’ve been crafting. It seems to combine all of the elements of the album into one song – the harsh vocals, the guitars that are on the verge of falling out of track, the thunderous bass, the fast and slow and fast and slow drums.
For an English major turned musician, this is poetry in sound. They have created their introduction, developed the point they are trying to make, and finally in conclusion delivered you an approximation of everything they’ve been trying to tell us about Temple of the Fuzz Witch. This song should be on multitudes of playlists throughout the year, regardless of whether you are into stoner, doom, or black metal.
To wrap it up, I must emphasize how Temple of the Fuzz Witch has turned from caterpillar into a butterfly. Not a beautiful one. Not a colorful one. Perhaps it’s the rotting corpse of a butterfly that didn’t make its proper migration. But the evolution, the elements of a living entity, the daring to say we will not go with the herd…these are what make this album beautiful.
I could wax poetic about this album until it’s spring of 2025 and hopefully they surprise us with more material somehow. I want more from this band. I’m starving, parched for it. Whether the blackened elements are for you or not, this album should still be at the top of your listening list as soon as it is released. While this phrase gets thrown around a little too often, I believe it here: this is an important album. – Blake Carrera
Blake’s takes on Hashtronaut and The Endless
