Lung Molde is an evocative name for a band. Knowing nothing about the music, it begins to shape your impressions of what you will hear. You begin to imagine your air supply choked off by a toxic growth of slime breeding in the hothouse of your own body, of a once pink vitality turned into a gasping black ruin, of your eyes clouded by the fog of your own impending asphyxiation. Or maybe that’s just me, contemplating the start of lung molde season here in the Pacific Northwest.
This Portland trio (which includes members of Triumvir Foul) chose their name well, because, as you’re about to learn through our premiere of their debut self-titled album, the music is indeed calamitous. Their brand of staggering sludge and doom generates an oppressive atmosphere, creating a soundscape that’s blighted, bulldozed, and burned.