On the material that Paradise Lost’s record company sent with “Ascension,” there’s a quote from singer Nick Holmes: “Miserable music is always the most enjoyable to listen to, and write I guess.”
He’s not wrong. Like Therapy? said back in the last century: “Happy people have no stories.”
And the last century is where we start with PL. There was a giveaway tape on one of the metal magazines (either Kerrang! or Raw, I can’t remember which) with snippets from their fifth record, Draconian Times — 30 years ago.
They’d been on a bit of a journey to that point, and ye gods they’ve been on one since. But they’ve never made a bad record – and they’ve made a track I’d probably class as one of the top ten ever. But I digress. The matter at hand is album number 17 and, after their few albums of experimentation, for the last decade or so they’ve been content to be big and doomy again, like a blast of Yorkshire autumn wind.
At this point, it surely must come naturally to them. The grandiosity that ushers in the album. The quite wonderful “Serpent On The Cross.” And before Nick Holmes has growled a note, Gregor Mackintosh has slashed out the most metal gallop he’s done in years.
How do you top perfection? The answer is you don’t. You can’t. What you can do is crank up the most PL thing you can conceive. “Tyrants Serenade.” “Another winter again,” offers Holmes as the first line, and if the Beach Boys are the sound of California sun, then surely Paradise Lost are the band of freezing fog and drizzle on the Yorkshire moors.
These songs are mostly self-contained stories, but with a thread of utter class running through them. From the ominous bells of “Salvation” – as slow and crushing as it gets – to the almost soundtrack-ready “Silence Like The Grave,” cinematic in scope, they don’t sound the same but could only be this band.
“Lay A Wreath Upon The World” brings out the acoustics to deliver a eulogy which, when you consider that fascists are wandering about in plain sight, is ever more needed. When it finally explodes, the wailing harmonies are sensational.
“Diluvium” (a term derived from the Latin for deluge – and yes, I used Google for that) appropriately comes over in waves. I’d argue that the middle section, with a Metallica-style gallop you never saw coming, makes it a highlight.
In old money, side two kicks off with “Savage Days,” which recalls their One Second era, but evidence that this album is a study in riffs is never far away. You can sense it again on “Sirens.”
The shortest song here, “Decievers,” is another that underlines this might be the most metal PL have been in a long time, while the keys that mark out so much of their sound are clearly there again on “The Precipice.” A real journey, this one too — it seems to wrap the whole album up in a neat package.
There’s a darkness lurking in the gothic, stony world that’s been created here. “This Stark Town” isn’t welcoming strangers with open arms, but “A Life Unknown” – on which drummer Jeff Singer, returning to the fold, is in wonderful form throughout – is a standout. He’s never better than on this track.
On that one Holmes sings: “We burn the life we know.” Maybe that’s where their need for reinvention comes from.
“Ascension” isn’t that, though. It’s the sound of a band that’s been doing this for 35 years and has complete mastery of their craft.
If they’ve never made a bad record, then this is one of their very best. And trust me, that’s high praise indeed.
Rating: 9.5/10
