Father Murphy - And He Told Us To Turn To The Sun

 

Inspired by an unholy union of two of their native Italy’s most enduring exports – Catholicism and trashy horror – Father Murphy are a nightmare of tortured groans, discordant clatters and chilling chants, a black mass that would fit comfortably into Constellation’s galaxy of unorthodox oddities. Corrupted organ drones mix into haunted whispers, but lest this sound is too unsettling, the menace is paired with a knowing ridiculousness. Aware of their theatrical absurdity, the band inject welcome silliness to the penultimate At That Time I Guess We Misunderstood, before the closing In Their Graves revives the dread, its incessant beat giving way to a John Carpenter-esque dirge punctuated with eerie death rattles (well, drums). Their uncanny talent for evoking bad omens won’t appeal to all, but for those with the constitution for such things, Father Murphy’s unfamiliar atmospherics will provoke the right kind of shudders. [Chris Buckle]