1 FROM THE CRATES #32: Electric Wizard - Dopethrone (2000)

The following was recovered from the trunk of a 1974 Cadillac El Dorado that was driven off a bridge in flames on WA-18 last week. We believe it is the work of none other than Death Metal Dr. Gonzo… the most dangerous man in King County. If you have any information about his whereabouts, please contact the authorities immediately.

Electric Wizard – Dopethrone (Rise Above Records - 2000)

Electric Wizard (quite possibly extracting their very name from the amalgamation of two classic Black Sabbath song titles) sound exactly like a Black Sabbath record would sound if it were played at half speed through a Marshall JCM800 with gain knob broken off at the maximum setting. Holy fucking shitballs, I actually described that without needing to reference a black hole… even though it felt like Electric Wizard was gonna need a black hole. Blimey. Anyway.

You would think, that is if you are a being in possession of a functional sense of logic and space and time and such bullshit, that eventually doom metal would reach a limit. That it would get slower and slower and sludgier until it was just some nasty grime on the floor of the Burger King. Electric Wizard have made an entire career out of trying to disprove this idea by making gnarly, sludgy doom metal that retains its delicious viscosity in spite of plumbing the absolute depths of sensible heaviness.

The real majesty of Dopethrone isn’t in the heaviness of the riffs or the quasi-noise solos – it’s in the details. And by “details” I’m talking about moments like ten minutes into ‘Weird Tales’ where the instruments all fade out as a slow, swirling phase of noise occupies the entire noise spectrum FOR FIVE MINUTES. Usually I forget I’m listening to Electric Wizard (maybe only sort of because of the noise and lack of instrumentation… you know, sort of) until the next song kicks in and I find myself yelling “Fuck yeah!” all over again.

Dopethrone is the kind of album that makes you want to damage speakers just because you are in possession of a record that could do so, but instead you end up lying on the floor daydreaming about being a gnarly cyber-Viking and staring at the ceiling. If there’s space in your dome for much more than that while this shit is on the stereo, then it’s obviously not loud enough.

Words by Matt Abramson