Grim, trance-like black metal from this cult SF band (RIP).
Featuring a member of genius instrumental math-metallers
and Drag City recording artists, The (Fucking) Champs.

Weakling prove that not all brilliant black metal comes only from northern climes. Without seeing a single snowflake fall, this San Francisco band has produced an astounding debut album that is superior to not only all other American black metal bands but that is capable of destroying the best Scandinavia has to offer!

Ghastly, anguished vocals and bloodchilling keyboards combine with dual, trebly buzzsaw guitars and inhuman, trance-inducing drumming to create an evil atmosphere of utter grinding grimness. Weakling draws upon 90's black metal in the Norwegian tradition (especially, the raw and primitive likes of Darkthrone, Burzum, Mayhem and Immortal) but then creates uniquely fucked song-structures of epic length. Original, intense, insane.

Like a cross between the atmospheric, monomaniacal, distorted black metal buzz of Burzum and the progressive, advanced death metal orchestrations of Opeth. Heavy, dark, hypnotic. Somehow capturing the raw grandeur of the foulest black metal demo but executed with the precision and ambition of the most brainiac prog metal opus. Songs that incorporate spacey synth-wash, melodic/folky guitar breaks, intense percussion grind, and dirgy, doomy riff-crawl.

Sophisticated metal-freaks will definitely be adding Weakling to their personal pantheon of eccentric favorites. For fans of the obscure and eclectic likes of Abigor, Mistigo Varggoth Darkestra, Incantation, Abruptum, Corrupted, Nagelfar, etc., as well as the aforementioned greats.

As with the best music, Weakling transcends genre. In some ways, Dead As Dreams can be considered akin to the avantgarde, experimental creations of such diverse artists as the Swans, Skullflower, Steve Reich, Yoko Ono, Sonic Youth or Hermann Nitsch. The sounds are not obviously similar, but the effect can be. Imagine the hypnotic repetition of Terry Riley or the pummelling drone of H. Nitsch, performed by a death metal band. A suffocating soundscape of riffing and drone, subterranean satanic art rock that equals metal. Nihilistic, depressive, never-ending... yet triumphal. As ever evil triumphs. Note that the band name Weakling is of course not self-descriptive. Rather, it is an accusation. The finger is pointing at YOU. Bow down! Weakling!

The current status of Weakling is nebulous, so this debut may also be their swansong. But if these 70 minutes are indeed their epitaph, it's quite a legacy.