Despite being one of the top dogs of French doom metal, Barabbas are still somewhat of a well kept secret. Their second album released in 2022 by the excellent young label Sleeping Church is a great showcase of their particular niche. The living or the dead shouldn’t sleep on them, they’re worth the time.
Weaponized by two extremely tight guitarists, their sound is as heavy as it can get but they’re not satisfied with the sole fact of being thunderous. The inclusion of feelsy leads like on Le cimetière des rêves brisés can remind of the melodic side of doom/death for example. It’s a good way to show that they’re not shackled by the limits of doom/stoner and exist as their own entity. Furthermore, the experience of Thomas Bastide who spent more than a decade with the defunct cult Parisian progressive doom band Northwinds (Baguette Doom series #2) probably helped Barabbas expand their sound forward. They’re more than just bread and butter doom, I’d at least say that they added the jambon to the baguette sandwich. A song such as the epic Mon crâne est une crypte (et j’y suis emmuré) has layers and layers of atmosphere and isn’t overshadowed by the heavy riffs.
Fueled by somber lyrics about life, death and religion, their identity definitely benefits from such themes. Their lyrics (all in French) explore harsh topics through the lens of nihilism, dark humor and pessimism. Given that France’s historical background is so rich in moments of darkness, it’s interesting to base your identity around something of the sort. They’re very good at evocating some good old classic French fin de siècle sentiment and they’re not doing it in a cheesy pseudo avant garde way like Pensées Nocturnes.
Luckily they’re able to provide an appropriate musical skeleton to the structure. It’s a long but garnished album with more than enough meat on the bones. We’re served seven songs of about eight minutes sandwiched (baguetted?) by short moody pieces and it’s not monotonous or overly repetitive. Still, it’s close to one hour and it could still benefit from some editing. As I’m getting older, I’m more and more grumpy about albums lasting too long. I’m firmly in the philosophy school that forty minutes is the sweet spot, even for doom metal!
To lead their church as a mad priest, Saint Rodolphe is a powerhouse and charismatic presence. His vocals are powerful, tough and touched by necroticism. He’s not unlike Nathaniel of fellow French doomsters Dionysiaque but without the harsh, somber crypt extreme influences.
Ultimately, La mort appelle tous les vivants (Death calls all the living) is a potent album full of mighty riffs and entrancing priestly vocals. I’ll answer their call and die, I don’t give a damn. Bandcamp
