Firebreather, the Gothenburg trio who have spent the better part of a decade turning distortion into something approaching a natural disaster, unleash their fourth album, Blood That I Spill Turns To Fire, and it is a forty-minute slab of doom, sludge and psychedelic metal that sounds as though it has been excavated from beneath a mountain that has spent centuries dreaming of your demise.
The album finds Mattias Nööjd (guitar and vocals), Jacob Madetoja (bass) and drummer Joakim Olsson refining the elemental brutality that has defined their career since their self-titled debut in 2017. The objective, by the band’s own account, was to preserve the rawness, weight and groove of their established sound while introducing a little more melody into the vocals. A deceptively simple ambition, perhaps, but then the most effective acts of musical violence rarely require complicated explanations. Firebreather understand that a single, perfectly placed riff can communicate more existential misery than an entire library of overworked concept albums
The opening salvo, “Only in the Eyes of Others,” establishes the terms of engagement with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball through a cathedral window. The guitars grind and snarl, the bass occupies its own little kingdom of subterranean menace, and Nööjd’s voice emerges from the murk like an ancient prophet who has finally abandoned the idea that humanity might be worth saving. Yet there’s an underlying musicality here that separates Firebreather from the endless procession of bands who believe that downtuning alone constitutes a personality. The riff is king, certainly, but the songwriting knows when to make its mark.
“El Cuervo” is a particularly satisfying beast, twisting its muscular, sludge-encrusted foundation into something more agile and unexpectedly dramatic. The title track is another highlight, its central riff carrying the scorched-earth majesty of Black Sabbath while the vocal melodies introduce a welcome flash of hard-rock swagger.
The music feels ancient without sounding antiquated, as if the primordial language of heavy metal has been rediscovered in some forgotten cavern and translated into a more contemporary dialect of misery. There’s a certain grim elegance to the arrangement, too. Firebreather don’t need to throw every conceivable distortion pedal into the abyss to make their point. They simply find the pressure point and lean.
Formed in Gothenburg in 2016, the band have built their identity around the meeting point of doom, sludge, stoner metal and psychedelic rock. Their earlier albums established the foundations; Under a Blood Moon introduced a more pronounced Americana flavour, while Dwell in the Fog further refined their command of groove. The new record consolidates that evolution while allowing greater space for melody and emotional expression.
“The Sorrow Hides” offers another reminder that the band’s musical vocabulary extends beyond brute force. Its Sabbath-like DNA is unmistakable, but Firebreather’s particular genius lies in the way they make familiar ingredients taste faintly dangerous again. The blues lurk beneath the distortion, giving the song an emotional undertow that distinguishes genuine heaviness from mere volume. This is music with blood in its veins, not just concrete in its boots.
Then comes “Against the Light,” arguably the album’s crowning achievement. Here, the trio’s instincts converge in a glorious exercise in tension, groove and release. Madetoja’s bass coils around Nööjd’s guitar work, providing a sinuous counterweight to the song’s muscular forward motion, before the guitar opens into a solo steeped in bluesy sorrow. For a few extraordinary moments, the music seems to rise above its own crushing gravity.
“Protector of Realm” continues the record’s fascination with expressive guitar work, allowing the blues to seep through the band’s heavier framework. And closer “Shrines” takes its time, stretching towards the seven-minute mark without losing its grip on the listener. Its accumulating riff and forceful percussion make for a suitably monumental finale, less an explosive conclusion than a slow, deliberate burial beneath several tons of beautifully arranged sound.
There is something reassuring about a band that understands its limitations and treats them as creative boundaries rather than obstacles to be overcome. Blood That I Spill Turns To Fire doesn’t radically transform Firebreather’s sound, nor does it need to. Its achievements are smaller, more substantial and ultimately more enduring: stronger melodic contours, expressive guitar work, a production that balances grime with clarity, and a sequence of songs that knows the value of a well-placed riff.
The album occasionally lingers where it might move forward, and its commitment to a relatively consistent sonic palette will not convert anyone who finds doom metal fundamentally tedious. But that is hardly a fatal flaw. Firebreather are not in the business of providing background music for people who consider silence an inconvenience. They want the listener to inhabit their songs, to feel the bass in the ribcage and the guitar lines spreading through the mind like smoke.
And when it works, as it does on “El Cuervo,” the title track and especially “Against the Light,” the results are magnificent.
Donnie’s Rating: 8.5/10
Blood That I Spill Turns To Fire is out now on Heavy Psych Sounds.
