samothrace

when the sun reaches the tops of the shortest trees and yr mind rests in gentle sleep-shapes samothrace picks you up in its palm and presents you to the dying day. like the rumbles and haunting flight of whales' cries soaring high and heavy, these kansas natives weave dark tapestries of melancholic metal one might find trapped in the bowels of a sunken ship. somehow i feel hope in these songs, leaking and swirling like mist from the quiet surface of a bottomless sea. i find comfort in the bone-trembling bass of it all; the pit i find myself staring up from when i catch a glimpse of a passing solo; the low, gruff, inhuman cries buried perfectly in the mix. and did i mention that waiting for upwards of five minutes to hear impressively massive riffage could never be described as waiting? to me samothrace is a stew, a dish labored over by an excellently-skilled chef, the cutting of explosions in the sky into cubes and carefully, slowly stirring the tender pieces into a cauldron in which a heady, musky omega massif broth has already been simmering for months. top that shit off with a dash of cough and a pinch of deadbird.

i must warn you. this shit is bomb.

for the sake of backing my super-cool name-dropping i will include songs by explosions in the sky, omega massif, cough, and deadbird along with a samothrace song. oh, and an öroku song because samothrace includes one or some ex-öroku member(s) i believe. a regular buffet of jams, i must say.

also, samothrace has finished recording a new album and are now on an huge u.s. tour (chicago, october 11 @ TBA, w/lone wolf & cub). look out for that shit. or come back and read me raving about it.