On a morning that has all the characteristics of the impending apocalypse, as gun metal grey clouds disgorge their pregnant bellies of water onto the unsuspecting populous of the United Kingdom as gales flail, wind lashes sodden garden fences like a cat o nine tails metering out punishment to insolent pirates off the coast of Port Royal, Jamaica on the good ship Scurvy, a little injection of hope has been injected into my arm in the form of Doom/Sludge husband and wife duo Azell.

Over the years I have been lucky enough to enjoy many bands that are comprised of two members, and the same thought always crosses my mind when listening to the songs and that’s ‘How the fuck do they make so much noise’? Before you say it, and although I may not be the most technically of minded individuals, I do know my way around a calculator and of course, in these technically advanced and A.I. influenced days we live in, of course, anything is possible…. technically. You can layer hundreds of guitars, bass parts, vocals, cymbals, snares, hedgehog grunts, seagull tears and kick drums at the touch of a button, a flick of a switch or via a vocal command to Skynet. The problem with this proliferation of technology, is that everyone thinks they’re Godflesh, Pitchshifter or Ministry. But the thing is, for all the hundreds and thousands of turgid, derivative, and fetid bands that have ‘technically’ managed to create a collection of songs, only a tiny amount of this output is worth listening to. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should and so let’s transition to Louisville, Kentuckians Azell and this their debut album.

The first thing you notice, is that the production is one of the best I have heard this year. Thick like molasses, creamy, oozy, and deliciously unctuous. It creeps out of its spider hole, caresses your check, bites your lip, and eats your face in real time. It’s pretty powerful stuff. Like a slowed down version of EyeHateGod, with added bile but less heroin. The vocals from Courtney and husband David Napier (I think he may be backing or sharing vocal duties, it’s hard to tell), are angst ridden screeches that remind me of a mix of two of the leading lights in the new wave of heavy music in the UK, Pupil Slicer and Heriot who also just happen to be female fronted bands. The songs are sodden in tears, baked in despair, and roll around your mouth like a stomach on a channel crossing in high seas after a lunch of sardines, Guinness, and chili con carne. The guitars are built up in waves, each more devastating than the last, as they tower and collapse over your face. It’s like Iron Monkey playing Primitive Man covers. Its dark, oppressive, and delightful.

The walls of stupefying heavy guitars are punctuated with slow, plodding drums that keep a funeral, almost dirge like tempo as bursts of keyboard driven effects, offer light relief amongst the carnage of the riff, and it’s in these moments where Azell stray slightly from the path of ludicrously heavy, that you can see that this band are not competing in their first rodeo (despite this being their first album) and are certainly no one trick pony. Whilst this album, overall, is as heavy as ninety-five-year old’s incontinence pants after an ‘all you can drink tea /all you can eat fruit cake party’ where the toilet is out of order, there are moments of real clarity, of nuance. You are offered sneaky peaks behind the brooding dark clouds, where the real heart of the band beats. It’s reminiscent of Will Haven’s finer moments (of course, there are many dear listener) in its straightforward approach to flaying the skin from your eardrums and punching you in the small of your back. It may lack, at times, enough variation in its pace and tempo, but that’s just nit-picking because there is so much fine work going on within ‘Death Control’, that it’s hard to take it in on third, fifth or even tenth listen. But its fine, take your time, wallow in the filth that pulses from each chord change and bass drum hit. With each gargled utterance, you’ll start to understand more, so just lie back and wallow in the wonderful muck that Azell have created.

The year has just tipped into March, and whilst Easter eggs hover on the horizon like chocolate manifestations of long forgotten gods and deities, Azell’s ‘Death Control’ could well be a candidate for album of the year. It might be too soon for that kind of jibber jabber, but based on what I have heard this year, it’ll take something special to top this album. The fact that this is Azell’s debut full length release, certainly bodes well for the future of the band, so do yourselves a favour, get this plugged into your brainbox immediately and let it take you on its sorrowful and dangerous journey. This is a dense, aggressive, and spellbindingly innovative body of work which takes a slightly stale genre, puts it in the toaster and slathers it with Nutella and hope. Stunningly good.

(9/10 Nick Griffiths)

https://www.facebook.com/azell.band

https://azellrr.bandcamp.com/album/death-control