### Baroness: Blue record

#### 19/11/09 || Euthanatos

Very rarely, I listen to a sample from a new album from some band, whether it be an illegal mp3 version of their album, some (or all) tracks on MySpace, whatever, and I feel the immediate urge to buy that shit immediately. It happened once this year already, with Mumakil’s heroic sophomore. Happened a few years ago as well with Pig Destroyer’s magnum opus. Surprisingly enough, it happened again. Twice in one year. God bless 2009. Such a surprising album was this one, “Blue Record”, from Southern metallers Baroness. I not only pre-ordered the album, I got a nice shirt to boot as well.

What’s so special about “Blue Record”? That’s actually a good question. I had already thoroughly enjoyed the previous album, aptly titled “The Red Album”, which was masterfully reviewed by our resident pet Christian Inquisitor right here. Anyway, as I was saying, I had already thought their previous album immensely entertaining, but this one was different. It’s epic, it’s grand on so many scales, it’s hard to fathom.

The natural comparison one would have to make, and I’m sure it’s been done to death already, is to current-day Mastodon. There are similarities in the music of the two groups, and both seemed to have peaked on the same year, releasing their best albums to date, although I think Mastodon had to take a few more tries. Baroness only needed 3 runs to pretty much release a perfect album. So, yeah, color me fucking impressed.

Once again, and I hate repeating myself, it’s hard to pin-point what is exactly so special about this record. It’s not that different than “The Red Album”, other than it’s that on heroin. It feels less heavier, but a lot denser. Does that make sense? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Let me put it this way; it sounds a lot more like southern rock, drowned in whiskey and put aflame. Let that fucker burn while you enjoy the ethereal ride.

Nothing is uniform here. There is a multitude of atmospheres, and even John Baizley’s vocals are not a constant, but just one more instrument in the fold that actually chooses to lead the pack in one direction, only to be swayed eventually by haunting guitars.

Many times, though, Baroness becomes a talented, full-on instrumental piece, and you can’t help but linger in the majestic passages they’ve constructed here.

And when Baizley does sing, it might take a little getting used to, but personally, I really enjoy his vocals. They’re neither here nor there, and he sounds quite unique. He’s not screaming, but there’s nothing soothing about his singing either. It also helps a lot that the lyrics are fantastic. Seriously, hit up the booklet on this bitch and be amazed. Few people in metal are doing quality stuff like this. The aforementioned Pig Destroyer and Mastodon, as well as Deathspell Omega are some that can be handpicked.

There must be some rich poison in the swamps of Savannah, because there are so many good sludge bands coming out of that place right now, and rest assured, Baroness is the best band. When the best band out of a genre releases their best album ever, what do you get? Balls dripped in honey with your dog licking them, that’s what. Pure, blissful heaven.

The cover: This alone is worth the price of the album. Even if you thought the music was shit, which you’d have to be in cerebral paralysis to think that, the cover alone would be worth the purchase. John Baizley might be my favorite cover artist at the moment, and on the art of “Blue Record”, he has done something incredible yet again. Talented fuck, I hope someone cuts his hands off.

- Information
- Released: 2009
- Label: Relapse
- Website: Baroness MySpace
- Band
- John Dyer Baizley: vocals, guitars
- Allen Blickle: drums
- Pete Adams: guitars
- Summer Welch: bass

- Tracklist
- 01. Bullhead’s Psalm
- 02. The Sweetest Curse
- 03. Jake Leg
- 04. Steel That Sleeps the Eye
- 05. Swollen and Halo
- 06. Ogeechee Hymnal
- 07. A Horse Called Golgotha
- 08. O’er Hell And Hide
- 09. War, Wisdom and Rhyme
- 10. Blackpowder Orchard
- 11. The Gnashing
- 12. Bullhead’s Lament