With the atmosphere of a pagan folk tale and a Victorian ghost story, Widow’s Weeds’ debut is a bewitching affair that perfectly marries dark dream pop with chamber music and gothic electro experimentation.
Widow’s Weeds is a collaboration of The Hare and The Moon’s Grey Malkin, darkwave practitioners Daughters of Grief and Hidden Velvet, along with some additional help from Alan Davidson, of whom you may know of as Kitchen Cynics.
Their first of hopefully many albums is dense with multiple layers of darkly ethereal drones, which part to reveal chilling poetic recitations and spectral vocals that hover over a pool of woeful strings and distorted electronics. The songs range from shadowy soundscapes to eerie renditions of traditional folk standards, which at times sound like grim lullabies from a cursed music box.
The album must indeed be taken as a whole, as it slowly unveils itself like an old haunted house full of myths and urban legends. However, if there was one song that totally sums up the vibe of the record, it would be the mysterious “Black Shore.” This anxious piece feels like a somber, opaque dream, complete with funereal violins, tolling church bells and spellbinding banshee vocals that reverberate as though they’re calling from deep within an endless catacomb. All the while, the track pulses with an ominous heartbeat-like thump that booms like distant thunder, giving the recording a very Telltale Heart sort of tension. If Marissa Nadler, Current 93 and Bocksholm ever collaborated together, it might sound something like this song.
Perfect for a stormy night while at home (or better yet, a 18th century home in the remote country side), Widow’s Weeds will surprise and enchant you to no end. Check it out here.