As the title of this debut LP suggests, Crosss are a band concerned equally with texture and form. This Halifax power-trio make rugged and ruthless rock music whose punch comes from a combination of pristine sonics and deliberate structures. Each track here (save perhaps the 20-minute droning closer, ‘Will O’ The Wisp’) would make the perfect accompaniment to educational pamphlets such as:
“How To Make Heavy Psych Rock 101”
“Growing Your Fanbase: Appealing To Potheads, Witches and Bikers”
“So You Want Your Song To Be In A Skate Video?”
“The Frightening Powers Of The Natural World Revealed!”
“How To Use Occult Imagery Without Going Off The Deep End”
“Biblical Violence And The Black Sea”
“The Bowie Approach: Appropriating What The World Thinks Is Cool But Ultimately Too Scary For Their Own Good”
That’s right, Crosss have culled all the evil bits and pieces from metal, stoner rock, drone, doom and psych music and made them frighteningly appealing, downright palatable in fact. And that is what makes Obsidian Spectre such a success.
Despite it’s heaviness, it never feels alienating, intimidating or over-bearing. When it hits it feels a little like a poison kiss. All of these mid-tempo, sludgy jams are ripe for meditative head-banging. Rather than a reaper’s scythe cutting you down mercilessly in an open field, this record feels like an outstretched arm tempting you from beyond the portal. There is a welcoming tenderness somewhere under the black veil. The songs are concise and tantalizing.
It’s amazing to imagine that this music is actually made by three people. Like the pummelling tunnel visions of Shellac, Crosss’ execution is so acute and powerful that the songs hit with a single-minded precision. If ever you’ve felt drawn to the darkside, Crosss are the fated ferrymen who await you patiently.
