Mastering the Maelstrom

YOB are a stoner/doom/sludge metal band from Eugene, Oregon. Led by founder and guitarist-vocalist Mike Scheidt, the band have been releasing full-length albums since 2002. YOB are practitioners of the long-form—none of their proper studio albums contain more than six songs, yet the shortest clocks in at about 49 minutes. This tradition continues on Clearing the Path to Ascend—a 62-minute, four-song journey into massive realms of yearning, weariness, pain, elation, rage and reconciliation.

If you have listened to YOB before, you will recognize the hallmarks of the band. Scheidt’s guitar tone is a thick and multifaceted thing, pummeling and crunchy on the low end and ringy and amorphous in the midrange. Imagine a downtempo, downtuned Bob Mould and you won’t be far off. There is some overdubbing of guitar parts, and the result is a rich, textured auditory swirl that sounds much, much bigger than your average power trio. Scheidt’s vocals are multifaceted as well, manifesting in plaintive Ozzy-fied keenings, earth-shaking roars, somber, mystic mutterings, and blustery madman howls.

Drummer Travis Foster and bassist Aaron Reiseberg also do a fine job on Clearing the Path to Ascend. One might say, somewhat paradoxically, that they play well enough to disappear. Their impressive unity with Scheidt borders on mind-meld, and allows YOB to lumber and stomp with a naturalistic freedom. The music feels untethered from typical rock music structures and feels more like a unified narrative than a summation of recorded parts.

The dynamics on Clearing the Path to Ascend are played up a little for contrast, but for the most part, the songs tend to evolve, redefining themselves incrementally around a steady melody or rhythm. “Unmask The Spectre” is a fine example, as the song progresses through dread and pummeling, bloody triumph, tragedy, and redemption over fifteen minutes without ever changing its essential identity. On initial listens, there is a bit of drift to Clearing the Path to Ascend, and the album can fail to make a memorable impression. What becomes apparent on closer listens is that although YOB’s music does not necessarily demand attention, it certainly rewards it, with compositional and sonic nuances that become more impressive with each visitation.

Clearing the Path to Ascend’s most impressive attribute is the way it thrives in such a tempestuous region of the abyss. Using subtle dynamics and an array of emotional voices, Scheidt and company wring large, sensational shifts out of very deliberate compositions. Shifting winds and traversing clouds somehow turn looming horror into unparalleled grandeur, quiet despair into roiling determination. Each new perspective on the maelstrom is more bracing than the last. In the end, the ultimate impression left by Clearing the Path to Ascend is cemented by closer “Marrow,” a cinematic final trudge to the summit. The afterimage is not one of doom and mortality, but rather one of wonder and transcendence—an enlightened and lovingly crafted gift from a band that keeps on giving.