Journal Review

Darsombra is the name Brian Daniloski uses for his more experimental side.

Traditionally heard in the avant-garde metal band Meatjack, Daniloski takes an all-together different approach with Darsombra. For his first recording under the name, "Ecdysis," he melds gloom-riddled guitar with field recordings from his native Baltimore for a truly dark piece of work. And before you dismiss it as creepy but unfocused ambiance, there's actual structure at work here. It makes it all the more unnerving.

On "Thinning the Herd," Daniloski's guitar acts as a squealing foreboding sequenced to an audible tension recorded among his neighbors. That evolves into an opaque underworld led by some of the bleakest guitar I've ever heard.

As for "The Place Where There is No Darkness," I beg to differ. The ensuing tenebrous notes, both elongated and stabbing, cry out from the depths. It's similar to the suffocating doom on closer "Dies Irae."

"My House" incorporates a leaden and cavernous beat with more ragged guitar work. It was recorded in a living space that used to be a funeral home. Inclusion of a sitar at the end completes its odd aura. It's effectively ghoulish enough that it's probably playing in some serial killer's basement right now.

In contrast, "Swelter" hangs a weighty, indefatigable haze over the listener. With extensive sighs throughout, it's easy to feel the heat. "Drag the Carcass" continues the hirsute crawl from earlier, distinguishing itself from the mad, breathless ramblings of a local orator preaching about the dead.

"Ecdysis" is experimental in every sense of the word. It acts as another mind-altering outlet for Daniloski, and gives those wanting to safely feed their darkest inclinations a complete platter. Music with atmosphere. With Darsombra, it's everything it should be.

Wade Coggeshall