From a not too sunny Glasgow comes this duo that does nothing to brighten up the misty atmosphere of the Scottish capital. Ommadon, now on their sixth full length in a relatively short space of time, contribute to darkening the atmosphere with a funeral drone doom that leaves little room for lightness and optimism. The band inflicts two long tracks in which sizzling riffs unwind incessantly while the drums inflict blows at regular intervals as if they were the infamous thirty-nine lashes of evangelical memory; End Times is the title of the album and in fact it is difficult to think of the persistence of some residual form of life after all this: only in the second track the guitar tries almost shyly to outline passages with a melodic semblance, rejected shortly after with losses, while the voice, if it can be called that, appears only rarely going to contribute to the evil cause. End Times is a work that could be listened to for ten minutes or for six hours, and all in all it wouldn’t make any difference, because once you are nailed to the chair or to the armchair by the notes of these Scots, the loss of any perception of space and time is immediate. An album recommended to those who have in their DNA a strong masochistic component, something that we who love doom can in no way disguise.

2018 – Dry Cough Records