Without really trying, Sunn O))) have become the literati's living embodiment of metal, transcending their origins (and intentions) as an Earth tribute band and becoming the rulers of a scene most people didn't even know existed. That said, they're still a band that more people reference in conversation than actually listen to, and though Stephen O'Malley and Greg Anderson's pedigree is unmatched within the circles in which they run, they're still outsiders, forced to insinuate themselves into a scene dominated by riff-crazed knuckle-draggers and second-rate Slayer clones.
Black One is a mega low-frequency belt of derision and death-knell drone -- a full-blown Bataan death march that drags metal through an apocalyptic wasteland, breaking its spirit bit by bit, dragging it over broken glass, jagged rocks and shards of metallic compost, eventually stampeding straight off a cliff and onto the razor-sharp rocks below. It's hard to believe, but the band's nearly obdurate White 1 and White 2 roar like speed metal compared to this depth-plumbing siege of molten frustration.
Fans who worried that there were no dark roads left for the band to travel will have their fears assuaged by "Sin Nanna"'s subdermal throb and stone-grinding cadence, which eerily foreshadows "It Took the Night to Believe"'s howling trudge through the neverworld. The group's cover of Immortal's black metal anthem "Cursed Realms (Of the Winterdemons)" slows the siege to a glacial pace, slowly crushing every sonic element into gritty dust. "Candlegoat" and closer "Bathory Erzsebet" are equally grueling, slowly wrapping their gnarled claws around riffs so slow, they appear in exaggerated slow motion, tearing off the skin and leaving a host of disembowelled carcasses in their wake.
As with all of Sunn O)))'s previous work, Black One carries with it an overwhelming air of ceremony, both in terms of the group's chosen genre and the black/death metal realm from which so much of their inspiration is derived. This time, however, they look to the Black Forest not only for guidance, but for assistance. Xasthur and Attila Csihar contribute truly demonic vokill performances to "Bathory Erzsebet" (recorded in a Jericho Pine casket placed in the back of a hearse outside the studio) and "Cursed Realms (Of the Winterdemons)", respectively. Though their guttural, quavering tales of malice are barely audible beneath the billowing black soot that sprays from O'Malley and Anderson's amps, they add a sickening new dimension to the band's assault, as do fiendish contributions from power electronics brute John Wiese and drone guitar demigod Oren Ambarchi. As always, Sunn O)))'s mantra -- "maximum volume yields maximum results" -- holds true, right down to the last punctuated flash of O'Malley's hellspawn guitar, drowning out Xasthur's final breath.
Anderson and O'Malley pledged their undying allegiance to the gods of bottom-heavy thunder when they named themselves after Norman Sundholm's low-frequency machine creations, and with each successive release they've confounded and shattered established notions of doom metal's potential. With Black One, they've set the genre's bar even higher -- or perhaps more appropriately, given their inspiration, even lower.
