With a name like Pissboiler, an indecipherable logo, and an album cover that’s terrifying and disturbing, you know this isn’t going to be an easy listen before you ever press play.
Okay, so mix together a foul, poisonous formula that contains virulent strains of grim funeral doom, disgusting sludge, and depraved drone, and you’ll have an idea of the acid-drenched vomit that In the Lair of Lucid Nightmares spews up all over you.
Sluggish riffs reluctantly unfold amidst feedback squeals. Depressed drums fall down in a lonesome hail of beats, while mournful melodies strike out in search of any glimmer of hope, only to be pulled back under by the murky bulk of the majority of the music. Pissboiler deal in darkness, despair, and horror; there is no hope here.
The vocalist’s deep growls are monstrous and suck in all light. It’s easy to get lost in their pitch-black depths.
The music is slow and despondent. It drags the listener down into the filth and forces them to confront their worst fears. Although uniformly dark and miserable, there’s still a mottled, diseased texture to this music. It’s not all heaviness, as lighter sections appear here and there, showing that Pissboiler understand how to write music that holds the listener’s attention, rather than becoming dull or too overly repetitive.
This is one of those albums that you’ll either like or you won’t. Obviously this can be said of any release, but the material on Pissboiler’s debut album is so nihilistic, harrowing, and filled with ugly negativity, that it’s hard to believe that any but the most devoted funeral doom fan would expose themselves to the band’s infections.
If you’re of sufficiently strong constitution, however, then I heartily recommend In the Lair of Lucid Nightmares.