Föhn - Condescending

Föhn is a funeral doom band from Greece who formed in 2016. “Condescending” is their debut full-length album.  It shouldn’t be a surprise that Föhn is yet another great band from Greece.  There are many countries with ridiculously great scenes but Greece is a different beast altogether. 

And so is Föhn’s “Condescending.”  I can say that with the utmost certainty that not only is this one of the best albums, doom or otherwise, I’ve heard in the second half of 2024, it is also going to be a very, very strong contender for album of the year.  It’s a stunning example of not only doom metal but music in general.

“Condescending” has all the hallmarks of the funeral doom genre:  long songs, cavernous atmosphere, deep growls, slow music and an impenetrable rhythm section.  However, it is what it does with these elements that make it an engaging album and a step above a lot of other funeral doom. 

Across the album’s four song, 57 minute runtime, I was thrust into the downward spiral of an ever maddening world.  Most funeral doom focuses on sweltering darkness generated by suffocating blankets of glacial riffs.  “Condescending” brings that as well but it also adds a layer of psychosis to their bleak poetry, each song pulling me further down into a well, where all the unspeakable things of life wait.

But Föhn’s music doesn’t succumb to the finality of it all; rather, the album embraces it as a tool so that it controls the darkness, not the other way around.   There is a certain regal type of songwriting on display here; it’s profane in a way that only funeral doom can be but it’s also methodical, meticulous, and even avant-garde.  

Funeral doom is never in a rush but this album truly soaks itself in a captivating tapestry, birthing music that demands multiple listens to truly grasp everything.  I don’t mean it’s complicated and messy; on the contrary, it flows very smoothly but that’s because there are layers within layers.  Each listening session brought me to these different layers, these little worlds that make up the album as a whole when they come together and form this massive, despotic universe. 

Special and very honorable mentions must be given to guest musicians Viktor Karaminis and Dimitris Pantelias; the former plays tenor saxophone on “Bereft” and “Persona” while the latter plays Soprano saxophone on “Bereft.”

If I’m being honest, I normally don’t care for the sax but their pieces fit extremely well, to the point where I cannot imagine the songs without them, nor would I want to.  Their playing, particularly in the beginning, on “Bereft” adds the avant-garde elements I spoke of earlier but also makes the song seem absolutely maddening, as if I could feel my grip on sanity slowly being unraveled. The sax has another shining moment around the 9:25 mark; a soulful passage that takes the night in its own hand and flies away with it.  

 

The sax on “Persona,” adds melancholic flavors that enhance the song’s atmosphere while complimenting it.  If the sax was removed from this song, a lot of the tone would change and, to me, that’s the mark of great songwriting and playing.

Greg Chandler (Esoteric) mixed and mastered the album so, of course, it sounds absolutely bottomless.  I listen to music with headphones usually and there are times throughout where I feel like I was falling into something infinite.  

“Bereft” opens the album with a cacophony of noises and the sax.  It swirls together, nearly unbridled with fervor which is unusual for music with slow tempos.  Around the two minute mark, the song pulls itself together with Georgios Schoinianakis stark riffs and Georgios Miliaras throbbing bass. Georgios S. also plays drums drums; captivating and interesting, handling the slower pace with ease, keeping the music engaged.

The ever approaching blackness expands and opens wide around the five minute mark, swallowing all the light.  Liminal spaces after the halfway point showcase the band’s ability to thrive in a minimalist environment, surviving on the bare necessities but using them for all their worth.

I love the build up of “A Day After,” because in the beginning it sounds somewhat spacey and far away.  The melodies wrap around the riffs but offer little comfort, further pushing the ethereal tendrils of darkness further into the psyche.

Nikolaos Vlachakis vocals are profane and inhuman—ultra deep growls that cling to the notes even as the guitar builds its layers from them.  This song is a perfect example of funeral doom: slow, expansive yet claustrophobic and with a special energy that only doom fans will  hear and understand. 

Around the 10 minute mark, the song is stripped of its suffocating distortion, replaced by a clean ambience that is no less both dangerous and awe inspiring.  The distortion builds back up with what I think is some sort of clean chant in the background.  It’s very ancient sounding and more than a little unnerving. 

“The Weight of Nothing,” has one of the most cynical and bleakest openings I’ve heard in doom lately–sorrow laden to an unbelievable degree that it would make a funeral seem happy by comparison.  The guitars are nice here, just tinged with enough dour melody to boost the desperation rather than take focus from it. 

My favorite part is the song fading out around the 4:54 mark, giving away to clean instruments before building back up to the impressive death growls.  The band is at their best when they navigate waters that go from deceptively calm to turbulent so this part really resonated with me. 

I love the final quarter of the song, specifically the movement that begins around the 7:46 mark; the higher pitched death screams are magically freighting and the melodies they lead into are surprisingly catchy and very potent. 

“Persona” ends the album with nearly 18 minutes of epic gloominess.  A song this long needs a long intro and this is made of spoken word, simple but clean tones that build up into a harrowing riff that slams down the heavy factor like a monsoon.  This song feels like another dimension, almost alien but also a familiar death .

After the ten minute mark, a built in interlude featuring the saxophone hits to offer up these sounds at a different angle before returning to the doomed out doom around the 11:12 mark.  From here the song moves along more like a force of nature, an oncoming storm that brings ill tidings. 

It’s almost unbelievable that “Condescending” is Föhn’s first album because they handle funeral doom in such a deft, professional way.  They aren’t depressing or cavernous for the sake of it but use those elements, among others, as a way to explore their songwriting techniques.  This is wholly impressive doom metal and it’s going to be hard to take this monster down.  Any other releases coming after need to bring all they have but it still may not be enough.   This is, without a doubt, an essential release for 2024.