Let’s be honest: when you hear “Norwegian/Czech pagan doom metal,” your brain instantly conjures up a certain kind of aesthetic: cloaked figures in misty forests, crumbling altars, and guitars that sound like tectonic plates groaning. Colosalist doesn’t just fit the mold. They rewrote it.
Their debut album, Two Suns, drops on September 9 via Hoggorm Music, a date already feeling like a ritual. Recorded in Finland with Aksu Hanttu (who knows his way around a reverb-drenched guitar tone), the record isn’t just heavy. It’s slow. It’s cold. It’s a walk through a forest where every tree remembers your name and doesn’t like you much.
The duality in the title? That’s not poetic fluff. It’s literal. One sun burns out. The other rises in silence. The band’s lyrics, haunted, fragmented, poetic, don’t preach; they lament. Themes of betrayal, forgotten faith, and the mythic gardener who walks in frost-laden caves? They’re less about fantasy, more about the quiet erosion of belief in a world that keeps spinning.
Musically, it’s a tightrope walk between old-school heaviness (think My Dying Bride’s melancholy, Saturnus’ grandeur) and something sharper, more modern. The riffs aren’t just slow, they breathe. The vocals? Not screamed, but whispered, howled, sung with the weight of centuries. And the production, mastered by Svante Forsbäck, no less, is crisp enough to hear a snowflake land on a stone, yet deep enough to feel the earth trembling beneath.
The lead single, “Die Inside Me,” is already out with a lyric video that feels like a fever dream shot on grainy film. You don’t just listen to it, you inhabit it.
This isn’t music for background noise. It’s for late nights, empty rooms, and staring at walls that suddenly seem too thin. It’s doom with soul, pagan with purpose.
So yeah, go ahead, press play. But don’t expect warmth. This one’s about facing the dark in light. And somehow, that’s the only thing that makes sense.
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