Witching Chronicles: Exploring The Amammoth’s Distant Skies and the Ocean Flies

Amammoth’s path has never been about playing it safe, and with Distant Skies and The Ocean Flies, they’re not holding back. From the first demo, Inhale, to their debut The Fire Above, this band’s been working on something heavy, slow, and dirty. And they’ve nailed it again with their second full-length. This is a band that takes sludge, stoner, and doom metal and uses it like a battering ram. But this time, they’ve shifted gears slightly – they’re still crushing, but there’s something darker, more elusive, and heavier about it.

With their earlier work, Amammoth’s music felt like an exploration into the social and existential abyss – questions of power, creation, and control. This time, they’ve taken a dive into the ocean. No, not the literal kind (well, maybe), but the deep, uncharted waters of human mystery, alien life, and what’s lurking beneath the surface. Distant Skies and The Ocean Flies isn’t just a record; it’s like being dragged through the deep end and pulled into an abyss you didn’t expect. The whole thing is steeped in weirdness – hidden aquatic secrets, UFO conspiracies, and the kind of heavy stuff that only gets weirder the more you think about it.

Musically, this album is monstrous. The guitars come in thick, slow, and nasty, like they’re crawling through mud. There’s no sugar-coating the heaviness – this is sludge at its most brutal. The riffs are the kind that make your bones ache, dragging you down but somehow keeping you locked in with their groove. This isn’t clean, polished stuff. It’s rough, gritty, and feels like it’s been hammered into existence with sweat and fists. But here’s the thing – Amammoth still knows how to keep things moving. Despite the crushing weight of it all, there’s a groove that keeps things from drowning in too much sludge. The rhythm section’s on fire, holding it all together while the guitars stumble and riff their way through the muck.

The vocals here are as gnarly as ever. If you’ve heard their previous work, you’ll know the vocalist’s gravelly, tortured style. But here, it’s like his voice has been worn down even more, digging deeper into some raw, pained territory. It’s not pretty – it’s not meant to be. The rasp, the way his voice seems to tear through the air with every word – it feels desperate, like he’s trying to drag out something horrible and vital from within. It’s got this old-school, tortured vibe that fits perfectly with the whole underwater, cosmic horror theme.

And yeah, the aggression’s there, but the band doesn’t just hammer you with heaviness the whole time. There are moments where they ease off the pedal a bit, and suddenly you’re floating in space or swimming in the deep sea. Those slow, spaced-out moments are essential – they’re the breath between the chokehold. Think krautrock meets doom – strange, trippy, otherworldly. It’s an odd balance of being trapped under the weight of sound but also drifting in a space that feels endless and expansive. It’s a weird mix that works.

The themes here are far from straightforward, and I don’t mean that as a criticism. The whole idea of the ocean as this vast, unknowable space mirrors the album’s vibe. It’s heavy, it’s daunting, but it’s also full of possibilities – terrifying, yes, but also full of what could be out there. This isn’t just some album about societal collapse; it’s more about the unknown, the things we can’t comprehend or reach. Aliens? Yeah, they’re here too. The ocean’s just the metaphor for that untouchable mystery we’ll probably never solve. There’s something about the way the band mixes these alien themes with their downtuned riffs – it feels like they’re pushing the boundaries of doom, yet keeping it grounded in something familiar.

Where The Fire Above was about myths and power, Distant Skies and The Ocean Flies feels like a voyage into something deeper, more esoteric. The ocean holds its secrets, sure, but it’s also a metaphor for something bigger – something terrifying. And that’s what Amammoth’s good at – creating this atmosphere that isn’t just about the weight of the music, but about the weight of what’s behind it. It’s about the unknown, the feeling that something’s lurking just out of sight, and that makes the album all the more unnerving.

The cover art of Distant Skies and The Ocean Flies really hits the nail on the head when it comes to reflecting the album’s vibe. The swirling storm clouds feel just as chaotic and heavy as the music itself – raw, dark, and relentless. There’s a sense of being lost in something vast and unknowable, with that lonely figure in the middle making you feel small against the backdrop of it all. It’s like the artwork is just as torn between that deep, suffocating heaviness and the strange, eerie moments of calm that the music pulls off so well. It’s a perfect match, capturing both the intense aggression and the unsettling, cosmic vibe that runs through the entire album.

This record is relentless, brutal, and unforgiving, but it’s also smart enough to slow down and let you catch your breath. There’s something captivating about the way the band bends time and space, bringing doom, sludge, and stoner metal together with something far weirder and more expansive. Distant Skies and The Ocean Flies is heavy in the best way possible – both in sound and in concept. It’s a trip through dark waters and strange skies. Not everyone’s gonna make it to the end of the journey, but for those who do, it’s an experience you won’t forget.

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Released by Electric Valley Records on March 21, 2025