Owls Over Oaks — O.O.O.

Spread over three long-form tracks. O.O.O. is heavy, loosely structured doom, propped up by massive amounts of distortion on the ever-present basses, grim, throaty vocals, and plodding drums. Recorded and mastered by the legendary James Plotkin, O.O.O. is an interesting debut record from this newly formed three-piece

 

Owls Over Oaks' O.O.O. is labelled as "extreme drone doom," although that name feels like a bit of a stretch, as the album seems very accessible, but not necessarily relatable. In that, maybe the "extreme" would classify this more in the experimental end of the spectrum, although I feel that is giving the album too much credit as well. On the whole, O.O.O. feels unfinished, like ideas jotted down, recorded, and not revisited or fine tuned, resulting in an album that feels rushed, filled with partially formed ideas. However, at the core of it all, Leynir's (sole composer, lyricist, and bassist) main bass is heavy and very distorted, and the secondary bass adds nice textures behind it. I do believe there is something to Owls Over Oaks' songs and tenets, it just needs more time and attention to be realized. The first track, "Owls," is slow, sparse, and plodding. However, it is really thin, despite the brutal bass tone, with the space between notes poking glaring holes in the layers, making the "extreme drone" seem like hyperbole of the highest order. The first seven minutes drag on like this before changing directions and thickening up the sauce. But, like day old gravy, thick doesn't always mean interesting. "Over" comes next and faces similar problems. While the bass tone is gnarly, the riff is uninteresting and the drums feel awkward, making the bass sound even more wonky. And like the first track, this one aimlessly plods forward, an overlong practice session committed to tape, before ending with a random set of notes, neither droning nor doomy. "Oaks" has the strongest elements to it, with an almost workable doom song coming in at 0:30, until about a minute in when the distance between the drummer and the bassist almost send it off the rails. There are a few changes in direction for the remainder of the overlong run time, but it all seems kept together by chewed bubble gum, the slighted breeze threatening to blow the whole thing apart, wobbling forward for 18+ minutes.

 

The debut album from Owls Over Oaks, O.O.O., is a bit of an unfinished mystery; there are plenty of interesting ideas, but they just don't come to fruition. After going over this release for the past week, I started to wonder if I was just missing something, but having been deeply into the extreme metal and experimental scenes for over thirty years, I have to rely on my knowledge and trust my opinion. Despite what my wife may say, longer doesn't always equal better, especially when the songs lack substance.