Ritual Howls create a cinematic blend of twangy industrial rock that could fuel a post apocalyptic dance floor. Acollaboration between Paul Bancell (vocals, guitar), Chris Samuels (synth, samples, drum machine), and BenSaginaw (bass), the Detroit trio's fourth full length'Rendered Armor' follows the 'Their Body' EP of 2018 withexpansive arrangements sculpted with masterful production.Throughout 'Rendered Armor' familiar influences reveal themselves, but the band doesn’t rely on derivative imitation.Instead, Ritual Howls forge haunting atmospheres that are all their own, reaching into unexpected sonic domain.Each track unfolds with unnerving anticipation, as if sound tracking a chase scene in a surrealist western film. Bancelldelivers his baritone above a jangling guitar like an incantation, evoking macabre, religious imagery laden withfuturistic undertones. Propelled by Saginaw's often fuzzed out bass and Samuels' dance club friendly rhythms, it's nosurprise that the band hails from the techno capital of the US.Ritual Howls' most mature offering to date, 'Rendered Armor' finds the band further carving out their own eclectic mixof organic instrumentation and pulsing electronics, distinguishing them as a unique force in the current landscape ofunderground music.
Ritual Howls are a unique brand of industrial rock with death jangle-like guitars. Collaboratively, Ritual Howls create a surreal, introspective gloom that could fuel a disco in hell, a soundtrack to your favorite nightmares and most grisly fantasies.
The trio consists of Detroit's Paul Bancell (vocals/guitars), Ben Saginaw (bass) and Chris Samuels (Synths, Samples, Drum Machines). They collect samples of the physical world and feed them with guitar, vox, bass, synth and drum machines to create an aura of darkness over a pop sensibility. Paul Bancell provides lyrics that Poe or Lovecraft would approve of while Chris Samuels and Ben Saginaw sculpt sounds that bring his macabre tales lurching into the world of the living.
The band's Their Body EP follows up their third album, Into The Water, released a little over a year ago on Felte. Ritual Howls' production sees the band dipping their toes into cleaner sonic territory than previously heard. Lead single "This Is Transcendence," may be their most "pop" song to date. And lyrically, it's lyrics are as straightforward as we've heard from Paul Bancell too.i "Perfume" could have the most terrifying opening synth line that will sear your ears instantly. "Blood Red Moon" is reminiscent of signature Ritual Howls with Bancell's guitar leading while drum machine rhythms keep the industrial feel intact and Saginaw's low end thickens the intensity throughout.
While we wait for another full-length, Ritual Howls continue to impress and build upon an eclectic sound that seems to have never-ending possibilities.
Ritual Howls are industrial rock meets cinematic country goth. Entering a vast nothingness of everything, exploring the unknown, baptizing, cleansing yourself, actually putting something or someone into water, like an act of murder, hiding something. "Look into the water at your Francis Bacon face. Are your lies that easy to erase?" Welcome to the trio's third album, Into The Water.
Detroit's Paul Bancell (vocals/guitars), Ben Saginaw (bass) and Chris Samuels (synths, samples, drum machines) are Ritual Howls. They collect samples of the physical world and feed them with guitar, vox, bass, synth and drum machines to create an aura of darkness over a pop sensibility. Paul Bancell provides lyrics that Poe or Lovecraft would approve of while Chris Samuels and Ben Saginaw provide sounds that bring his macabre tales lurching into the world of the living. Collaboratively, Ritual Howls create a surreal, introspective gloom that could fuel a disco in hell, a soundtrack to your favorite nightmares and most grisly fantasies.
Detroit three piece Ritual Howls new album tells stories fit for Poe or Lovecraft. On their debut full length for felte, titled Turkish Leather, they incorporate a variety of styles into an ominously self-assured statement of intent, Ben Saginaw and Chris Samuels' sounds providing an imposing form for Paul Bancell's darkly alive lyrics to inhabit. Their influences range from English post-punk to Nick Cave to the industrial sounds of Skinny Puppy, and the band melds them expertly. Combining field recordings with electronics, this music is sound design turned pop.
Many tracks here feel cinematic - whether it's the industrial clanging of "A Taste of You," which brings to mind a Lynchian bar scene, or the gothy synths of "Take Me Up," a slow burning track that escalates into full on melodrama. It's easy to imagine these twangy guitar lines gracing a scene in a Jarmusch film: their aesthetic owes as much to Tom Waits as it does Ennio Moriccone.
Ritual Howls manages to take all these influences and come out sounding uniquely morbid, raw and unyielding - never derivative. It's a record that holds nothing back: the band announcing themselves to the world with all of the confidence of long time professionals. Their future audience will greet them with enthusiasm.