Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard Y Proffwyd Dwyll

Y Proffwyd Dwyll is once again produced by Chris (Conan) Fielding, and is without doubt a whopping great slab of heaviness. But that’s not all. Those who’ve investigated beyond the name, have already discovered that both the band and their music are deadly serious, and though MWWB may share sonic alliances with likes of Conan, Windhand and Yob, the many who tuned into their impessive debut have discovered that MWWB don’t stick to the usual tropes, and are a unique proposition, with a sound all their own. Down-tuned to ‘Z,’ the guitar tone is tar thick and the riffs massive and full of hooks ... of course. But with the soaring, angelic, multi textured vocals of Jessica Ball, MWWB have added an extra dimension to what’s considered doom. Not your normal melodramatic dark chanteuse here pilgrims, more like MWWB’s secret weapon, a vein of crystal in the rock. In fact it’s a combination which sounds at times startling and often beautiful. Like if Liz Fraser had fronted Kyuss or Sleep ... though that’s too simplistic a comparison. There’s nothing approaching the 30 minute epic of their debut’s ‘Nachthexen’ (though these six tracks all clock in around the eight or nine minute mark) but the arrangements are tighter and the vocal elements are considerably upped. Add to that a smattering of cello, some swirling moog wig outs, and you have a record that also invokes Hawkwind’s cosmic synthscapes, as well as a nod to the John Carpenter soundtracks that the band love. The album title is old North Welsh loosely translated as ‘False Prophet’ and the concept of worship is the narrative thread that binds the record. And indeed the album conjures moments of ethereal beauty, the smell of the earth, the scent of the forest or far off land, the cosmic dreams of some wandering shaman perhaps. But rest assured, MWWB haven't gone all whimsical on us, this album is one heavy beast, and it rocks like the proverbial bastard.