Type the band name into a search engine and you are more likely to be invited to church than anything else. Listen to their music though and you may find yourself in need of some redemption. As I guessed, this is not cheerful stuff. Composed by two entities, pictured in sackcloth masks slouched in the street and garlanded with what looks like flowers and thorns we have a duo divided between New York City and Lisbon Portugal. Trembling Master and Wound are their appropriate monikers, although whom performs what duties is not disclosed.

This is not atypical Iron Bonehead material at first glance although stylistically it is something the label have dabbled in. Musically this is a dirge of synthesized and downright miserable dark, gothic blackened doom with a funeral intent, designed to bury the listener six feet deep. I guess our progenitors will solemnly bring their own spade to the burial proceedings. The track titles tell their own tales and one gets a sense of the music within from the start of each number. ‘Your Lonely Death My Crown’ has synthpop at its entranceway and a couple of times during the album the strains of yesteryear are invoked by a sound reminiscent of Tubeway Army. ‘Fear In Bloom’ has a darkwave vibe that would have a listener sitting in the darkest corner of a nightclub and only the most mindless shuffling zombie moving to its mournful sound. ‘Watching You Beg For Your Life’ brings in the church organ at origin and drapes the coffin sat on its stand in anguish. Of course, those who can see beyond the darkness may find all of this quite beautiful. Once tracks move past their starting point, they are filled with melodies that would not be out of place on the dourest songs from The Cure, fragilely Disintegrating as it were.

Whichever of our pair provides the vocals here, rest assured they are equally morose. Dark, low in tone and in the mix. One could at first say they are muttering more than anything else although as the album continues over its nine painful shrouds of songs, they seem to become a bit more distinguishable. Whatever they are saying their tone speaks more than actual words and it’s not difficult to paint your own bleak picture around this. Surprisingly although many would find this monotonous it is not without various ideas texturing it. There are snatches of neo-classicalism, doom, post punk, shoegaze and various other shades of darkness within its slowly crawling fronds. Things never break into the remotest of sweats but it does drench you in a fever of lethargy and total depressive moroseness. I discover something lurking here each listen, even now after various plays I am suddenly struck by some very faint and joyless female backing vocals on a couple of songs

This is an album that many would not want to confront, musically it’s close to an expression of facing your own mortality and many would find it hard to make it through to the end, teetering on the brink of manic depressiveness through each and every song. Others will take numbing comfort in it and all that’s honestly missing is a cover of Gloomy Sunday or perhaps a Velvet Underground song. One way or another if it touches the right audience this could at least cause a stir among those searching for something truly and honestly melancholic. Not many can make a band like Joy Division sound truly happy but here Hours Of Worship seem to have done just that.

(7.5/10 Pete Woods)

https://hoursofworship.bandcamp.com/album/the-cold-that-you-left