|I have a vision:
One day in Autumn 2005, Nobuyuki Sentou from Coffins, Makoto Fujishima from Deathchurch and Jumpei Ishimaru from Morquido met in the back room of a snack bar in Tokyo (or somewhere else, but let's say Tokyo), drank a lot of sake (or something else, but I can smell a scent of sake) and decided at the end of their little party that it'd be a great idea to unleash a monster upon the surface of the earth. It would be a moth. A funeral moth. The name sounds like a joke, the music doesn't. At all.
The album offers to the adventurous listener two devastating, frightening and ultra heavy tracks for a total duration of 28 minutes.
A moth can suggest dark, cold and damp places. When you attach the adjective "funeral" to it, the living space of this tiny creature becomes very dark, very cold and very damp. The Doom that Funeral Moth plays is more than that: this is not dark but opaque; this is not cold, but icy; and "damp" is too feeble a term to describe the noxious humidity this album is oozing.
From second one, the band's ambition is made quite clear: an inhuman growl jumps at your ears - the kind of voice from beyond the grave that you desperately try to make come out of your throat when, alone at home, you want to see if you too could start a growler career. Golemís blood has to run in your veins.
The overall pace doesn't show much variations: the drums are comatose and the guitars stretch their filamentous phlegms in labyrinthine underground corridors. Funeral Doom is all about mystic, occult liturgy. Funeral Moth multiply, under the outward appearances of a by-the-book simplicity, different sound patterns that are the most able to plunge the listener into the dark ceremony they set up: ethereal bleak choirs, sinister shamanic vibrations, shrill shouts of anguish, haunted whispers, leads of guitar that are as frayed and diaphanous as the wings of the tiny insect, rolling drums, and, as mentioned, the voice of eternal damnation.
There is no cosmic grandeur a la Colosseum, no poisonous charm a la Shape of Despair, no cottony meditation a la Skepticism. Funeral Moth is the anti-seduction, the icy uneasyness. Itís an obscure, slimy and sad pit. Take it as a warning - and, of course, as an invitation.
2. Depressive Dawn of a Dismal Misty Day
Duration : Approx. 28 minutes.
Visit the Funeral Moth bandpage.