Bandcamp Some bands take an EP to test the water. Prophets of Thwaites use theirs to plant a flag. Vulnerant omnes ultima necat, the debut from this Dutch outfit, is built entirely on one idea, the contrast between the crushing and the delicate, and across its two studio tracks it works that tension hard: fragile, atmospheric clean passages that swell and then collapse into heavy, suffocating weight. Guitarist and vocalist Esma Larabi frames it as doom about the things we choose not to see, and the writing lives up to the concept, “A deadlock” and the title track both moving from hush to eruption with real dynamic intent. For a first release, the ambition is clear and the atmosphere is genuine.
The delivery is modern and clean, sometimes to a fault. The production keeps enough headroom for the loud-quiet swings to register, and Larabi’s clear, well-pitched voice anchors the melodies, but the drums are polished to a slightly sterile, triggered sheen that saps some of the organic weight doom lives on, and in the densest riff passages the vocal has to fight a guitar wall crowding the same mids. It is the sound of a band with strong instincts still finding the right room to record them in.
Tellingly, the two live bonus tracks that round out the CD edition breathe more than the studio versions. The live “Vulnerant Omnes Ultima Necat” leans epic and doomy with a looser, more human weight, and “Karzelek,” drawn from the Polish folklore of the karzełki, the dwarves said to haunt the mines, brings a dark, folkloric atmosphere that hints at where this band could go once the studio polish loosens.
Vulnerant omnes ultima necat is a short, promising, atmospherically committed debut that nails its crushing-versus-delicate thesis even as the production still wants roughening. There are only two studio songs here, but they say enough: this is a band worth watching. Anyone who likes their doom with a fragile heart, the Draconian and early-Katatonia stretch of the grey, should keep an eye on Prophets of Thwaites.
A debut built on the contrast between the crushing and the delicate, and the writing works that tension well: fragile atmospheric clean passages swelling into heavy, suffocating weight, the loud-quiet swings kept intact by a master with real headroom. Esma Larabi’s clear, well-pitched voice anchors the melodies. The reservations are in the finish: the drums are polished to a slightly sterile, triggered sheen that saps some organic doom weight, and in the densest riff passages the vocal fights a guitar wall crowding the 1 to 3 kHz mids. The two live bonus tracks breathe more than the studio versions, the live title track leaning epic and doomy with looser human weight, “Karzelek” bringing a dark folkloric atmosphere. Short, promising, atmospherically committed.
Standout tracks: Vulnerant omnes ultima necat, A deadlock, Karzelek (Live)