Review Summary: A vicious cataclysm of theatrically gothic grandeur and gorgeous songwriting
Originally written and recorded in 1995 whilst Cradle of Filth were still under the thumb of Cacophonous, issues between the label and the band saw the album sealed away from listeners like some horrendous family secret. Frontman Dani Filth opined that the exhaustive legal red tape and resulting frustration after the fact came through prominently during the process of re-recording the material following the transition to new label, Music For Nations, and truly, in the best possible way, it shows. Utilising the resources under their new label to hone Dusk to a level that expressed the extremity of the outfit's vision without compromise, the version of Dusk...and Her Embrace we finally got was well worth the wait. Many years following the release, fans were gifted with The Original Sin recording in 2016, which provided a version of the record more in-keeping with the intended original sound of the album. This release was certainly intriguing and more than enough to make any Cradle aficionado perk their ears up, but as it didn't bear a great deal of resemblance to the version we eventually got and didn't feature any of the previously recorded material, it felt more like a re-interpretation than a true curio in the band's history. Despite its unfortunate journey to release, however, the 1996 recording finally manifested as a teeth-gnashingly vitriolic campaign that makes its points in anguish and rage, and to this end it feels served incredibly well by the infuriated emotion bubbling to the surface during its gestation. Acting as a middle ground between Principle and Cruelty both chronologically and stylistically, Dusk sees CoF leaning into their black metal tendencies more so than ever before. The comparative schizophrenia of Principle's songwriting has been recalled in favour of a more brooding, crushing sense of scale within the musicality and a more sombre, serious focus overall. This sound is bolstered with frontman Dani Filth's own enthusiasm for occult history (particularly relating to his home county) and vintage horror films, yielding an album that has the undeniable influence of this European sound, but with a distinctly British edge.
Dusk is an exceptionally beautiful album in CoF's backcatalogue. A permutation of sorts that evolves the sounds of Principle into a more streamlined, cohesive package with a fittingly consistent tone, the release cements a number of the band's personal motifs into the established framework whilst still retaining a curiously distinctive sound when set against their other releases. Following the instrumental introduction, true opener 'Heaven Torn Asunder' is a gradual and disciplined display of extremity, with tinkling chimes flanking Filth's wailing cries before the main portion of the song is loosed, exploding into a tirade of immaculately chaotic instrumentation. Driven by riffs but also leaning heavily into its cavernous mainframe, it's a superb opening track that makes use of a wealth of instrumental assets as it asserts dominance over the listener. Continuing this trend, following track 'Funeral In Carpathia' is a tantrum of whirlwind melody and vicious, demonic vocals that growl and caterwaul in a caustic balancing act. It is in the dense verses of these haphazard compositions that the black metal sound comes out most notably, with incessant percussion and a choir backup vocal that seems to emulate a howling wind as the storm of the musicality rages in the foreground. The lengthy compositions here are multi-movement and ambitious in their scope, with thunderous passages of dissonant violence and plodding, orchestrally rich bridges that intersect and converge into displays of audacious, melodic pandemonium. The conclusion of the aforementioned track is especially notable in this regard, with the escalation of extremity a pronounced facet as the riff keeps pace inamongst the increasing carnage of the vocal delivery and percussion. Once the cymbals start to thunderstorm against the thrum, it becomes an overbearing assault that is nonetheless able to sustain the harmony in the composite facets of the music. For a sound this huge, this is a particularly impressive feat.
Perhaps the most noteworthy thing about Dusk is its thick, gothic atmosphere. Cradle's devotion to aesthetics is no secret, and even on their initial EP they demonstrated a thorough, permeating ambient backdrop that washed over the musical content. Dusk does the same, but the confluence of atmospherics and music is more linked here than previously, and perhaps moreso than it has ever been since. Orchestral refrains and classical touches, such as the opening of 'A Gothic Romance' and the cyclical piano hook in the latter stages of 'Malice Through the Looking Glass' are as ostentatious and grand as is to be expected by the band, but the way they connect with the form of the musical structure feels intrinsic and almost symbiotic. Overall, the album exhibits a musical arrangement with a clear influence from classical; structural elements and even instrumental order display this inspiration with verve and nuance. This is especially notable on the title track and 'Beauty Slept In Sodom', with their gradual development, interlaced melodic lines and disquieting harmonies. The more pronounced classical underpinning not only affords the release an impressively meticulous base to build its fittingly gothic invective upon, but also actively extrapolates the elegance of the release, employing novel injections of instrumentation to keep the vibe in order with this aesthetic. The mixing of the two elements feels comfortable and beautiful in its assaultive energy, the brutality underscored with a fine, flowery, classical delicateness. The general theme and faerytale-esque bleakness to the conceptual elements here feels very 'Cradle', but every musical component on display feels in-keeping with the intended, markedly individual effect. The result is an album that demonstrates integrity even as it batters the listener down, and although CoF would ease off the brooding black metal throttle on subsequent releases, the sound on display here somehow feels more of an apt, murky, even artistic display of their sound than they have managed before or since.
Despite my consistent reference to this album as 'black metal', this pigeonhole is is sure to stir up some bad blood amongst purists, so I'll clarify. Dusk demonstrates a wealth of tendencies associated with the genre, more specifically the 'symphonic' subgenre, and submerges about waist-deep in these gloomy waters with careful aplomb. The main common trait is the oppressive, cavernous production that saturates every composition with looming, epic magnificence and even though the songwriting does feature structures and soundscapes evocative of black metal, the overall feel is far less assaultive; a tribute to the dynamism the band has utilised to keep the experience a consistently interesting journey. The usual incessant walls of sound one would associate with black metal riffs are sporadically replaced with more melodic passages typical of other metal genres, and riffs are allowed to ring out in vibrato rather than be pummelled into the musical tapestry until the pick is worn to the nub. Nonetheless, it still deserves to be termed as a black metal album, for it exhibits the attitude and the flair, not only with competence, but with virtuosity. The technique the band uses to establish the sound is certainly black metal in essence, and the result is intoxicatingly broad and exciting, with the overblown grandeur and spiritual preoccupations of the thematic content as fitting to a black metal record as it is possible to be. Filth, too, gives the most piercing vocals of his career here- eardrum-stabblingly shrill and yet still expressive and even emotional when the occasion calls for it. There are also occasional flirtations with death metal vocal techniques throughout, which afford certain moments on the release an animalistic quality; an almost bark-at-the-moon level of primitive anguish that works startlingly well in context.
Dusk... and Her Embrace is a magnificent slice of highly individual metal sensibility and a wonderful entry into Cradle of Filth's discography. Although the band would depart from this sound more and more with every subsequent release, the degree of evolution between this record and Principle is especially impressive. Here we see the richness of Cradle's sound find a more convincing foothold that they had previously managed to do, and their songwriting showcases a maturity that is commendable for a band only on their second full-length release. The melodies and harmonies are beyond reproach, the lyricism an intelligently penned array of gothic elegance and monstrous fantasy. Not only do the compositions themselves retain the sinister energy that the band were able to achieve on their debut LP, they develop and finely tune this madness to a level that feels decidedly evil, but in a controlled and restrained way. This allows the experience of Dusk to feel smart, chaotic and vindictive all at once, with the sharpness of cheese in the theatricality of the overtone lending the experience a sense of fun despite all the unpleasant imagery. It's not their most well-produced record and the heavy black metal influence does result in the album feeling a touch blinkered and less individual to the artists when compared to their more freeform efforts, but it's one of their strongest displays of musicianship regardless, and the unfettered sense of dread and overblown nature of the orchestration renders it an essential album for fans of the band, and for metal enthusiasts in general. It's as beautiful as the album title would suggest, and as extreme as the band name would suggest.
