by Will Yarbrough (@willyarbrough15)
While relatively fresh to metal's archives, Mother of Graves are settled on their burial plot. Born circa 2019, the Indianapolis vets planted their headstone upon the middle ground between death and doom that major labels found so agreeable during the '90s. On their second album for Profound Lore and third overall, the band carry the torch lit by the Peaceville Three to new emotional peaks. The Light That Keeps Us isn't flashy, but it radiates such conviction that its brilliance is obvious.
The Light That Keeps Us is remarkably sturdy. Rather than break or bend the rules, Mother of Graves are justly rewarded for their faith in Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride and Anathema (in that order). With headstocks bowed, guitarists Chris Morrison and Ben Sandman serve the gods of gothic melody. Despite being tempted by double bass, drummer Don Curtis never lets the album's 45-minute runtime crawl out from under its prevailing cloud of despair. The band's rock-solid songwriting is supported by well-rounded production. Even bassist Corey Clark is permitted to do some heavy lifting during the rare moments of silence. As opener "Wingless Soul" falls into the depths below, who should appear from behind the mastering console but Dan "The Man" Swanö to bless the proceedings with his tearstained cleans.
Shade can be thrown at The Light That Keeps Us. "Through The Pale Shade" shreds its veil with a riff that'll bring the most coldhearted bastard to tears. Sadly, the song would echo louder in the halls of memory if several others weren't smitten with its gorgeously gloomy piano intro. Like their forebearers, Mother of Graves need to be more adventurous after another album or two, but for now, the lack of daring is a minor grievance, not a grave misstep. There's no fault in staying the course when it leads to the surprisingly catchy "The Silent Weight of the Stars".
Besides, The Light That Keeps Us isn't hopelessly chained to death-doom's past. Mother of Graves aren't scared to shake the foundation with melodeath ("Eventide Angel"), folk ("A Moonlit Tryst"), post-metal ("The Beggar's Allegory") and trad heroics (the otherwise plodding title track). However, they really leave their mark on the lyrics. A poet who definitely knows it, Brandon Howe bleeds onto the page in the most classic sense. Anyone who's turned off by a Capital-R-Romantic best avoid the album entirely lest they be offended by his growls of grievous moons and the welkin's grief.
Metal's crypt is overflowing with acts who long to be remembered for freakish speed, skill or strength. With The Light That Keeps Us, Mother of Graves are setting a new standard for American death-doom by pushing their emotions to the extreme. Tortured though their soul may be entering the album's final climb, unlike Sisyphus, slowly but surely, the band reach the summit. "Bloodied, I bear the crown of failure's shame". Of course, Howe is being dramatic. As the last ray of keys surrender to eternal night, it's clear that everything the darkness touches falls under their kingdom.