Epilogue might be a surprising title for a debut
album, but the music of Reno metal band Weight of
the Tide is appropriately funereal. And the band
name is even more fitting because Weight of the Tide is very, very heavy.
The four members are all veterans of the local
metal scene, having played in bands like December
and Knightfall. In particular, Epilogue evolved
out of material written a couple of years ago for
Swamp Donkey, the sludge metal band that featured
singer-guitarist Mark Moots alongside drummer
(and sometimes bassist) Jason Thomas, both of whom are now in WotT.
Many songs on Epilogue fit the template that made
Swamp Donkey appealing: slow tempos, catchy
guitar riffs, and a heavy, distorted sound that
was like a deep, warm, luxurious bath. But the
album was recorded well over a year ago, and like
many good, prolific groups, the band’s
songwriting has changed, and the band members
already refer to the material on the album as “the old stuff.”
“The old songs don’t seem out of place, but we’ve
evolved a fair amount,” said Moots.
The core of the band’s songwriting remains
Crowbar-influenced sludge metal—slow and heavy
riffs—with added flavors more reminiscent of
classic ’70s metal and hard rock, like Judas
Priest and Thin Lizzy, alongside riffs that are a
bit more groove-oriented and Black Sabbath-inspired.
Genre subdivisions are the stuff of obsession for
metalheads, where the slightest variations of
tempo or rhythm can signify an entirely different
subgenre—and this minutia can ignite fiery
debates among the faithful while evoking eyerolls
from casual fans. Nonetheless: if Swamp Donkey
was a sludge metal band, WotT is doom metal.
Moots credits the evolution to what he calls “the
new blood”—bassist Marcus Mayhall and singer-guitarist Jes Phipps.
On the record, Moots’s singing is prominent in
the mix—his voice soars above the guitars rather
than growling, barking or howling down in a lower
register. Moots credits Phipps with helping to
arrange the vocals, and pushing him to sing
outside his comfort range. In the newer songs,
most of which still only have working titles,
both Moots and Phipps sing, sometimes alternating
verses, other times joining their voices in
harmonies that sound especially pretty rising above the heavy riffage below.
“It’s a classic heavy metal singer approach,”
said Moots. It’s melodic singing that’s not
totally operatic, but rather in the vein of
classic metal crooners like Rob Halford, Ronnie
James Dio and David Coverdale, all of whom Moots
and Phipps cite as inspirations.
The vocal harmonies are sometimes matched by the
duo’s guitar parts—including occasional twined
harmonized solos. Thomas is one of the area’s
most versatile drummers—a guy who’ll play simple,
tasteful accompaniment for an acoustic set by a
local singer-songwriter one night and then play
insane, complex progressive rock with Cranium the
next—and his deft feel keeps even the heaviest
guitar riffs from getting bogged down. And
Mayhall anchors the low end with basslines that
aren’t just the guitar riffs repeated ad nauseam.
The band’s songs are also suite-like, with
multiple parts, including rhythmic and dynamic
variations, that still add up to cohesive wholes,
often with third-act breakdowns that almost sound
like hardcore punk—a reference Thomas said is “totally unintentional.”
All of this adds up to a surprisingly eclectic
sound built around the heavy core. It’s like an
iceberg that can pick anything—heavy boulders or
beautiful trees, brutal guitar riffs or choirboy
harmonies—to carry along in its path.