Bandcamp Purple Skies bill themselves as proto-doom from the Norwegian wild west, and the gorgeous art-nouveau cover, a golden-haired figure dissolving into swirls against deep teal, sets the tone before a note plays: this is retro, warm, and steeped in the fuzz-doom of decades past. The Bergen band deal in riff-forward heaviness with one foot in classic doom and one in heavy psych, nine tracks of vintage haze that mostly know exactly what they want to be, even if the recording doesn’t always let them get there.
The clearest proof of what this band can do is the title track. “A Million Years” is the one moment the production fully cooperates, a mix that breathes and skips the loudness-war flattening, its guitars carrying an earthy, mid-forward saturation with clear chord definition and a genuinely present, growling bass anchoring the low mids. It’s warm, dynamic and full of character, the retro-doom promise delivered clean, and it makes you wish the rest of the album sounded like it. There’s real songwriting throughout, too, the fuzzed grooves of “Bitchcraft” and the dusty swing of “Worthless Men” showing a band with a firm grip on the idiom.
The trouble is the low mids, which cling to most of the record like fog. Across the album a frequency pile-up around 200 to 400 Hz muddies the picture, the guitars masking a dull, contourless bass and the whole thing gluing together: “Haven” opens the record matte and murky with a buried drum sound, “Too Worn to Tell” lets its reverb swamp the bass into a diffuse hum, “Arcahic Freeway” turns boxy with harsh cymbals, and the more modern-sounding cuts (“Mr Fear,” “Quiet Flowers”) flatten their transients for volume. It’s a warm, deliberately vintage aesthetic, and some of the haze is clearly the point, but it costs the riffs the definition they deserve.
A Million Years is a charming, riff-first, unapologetically retro proto-doom record from a band who clearly love the fuzz they’re working in, and who prove on the title track exactly how good they can sound when the mix gets out of the way. A cleaner low end across the board would have lifted it a full notch; as it stands, it’s a likeable, warm, slightly murky trip worth taking for the highlights, best played loud with the haze forgiven.
Retro-spined proto-doom and fuzz, riff-forward with one foot in classic doom and one in heavy psych. The clearest win is the title track: “A Million Years” is the one moment the production fully cooperates, a mix that breathes and skips the loudness-war flattening, guitars with earthy mid-forward saturation and clear chord definition, a genuinely present growling bass anchoring the low mids. There’s real songwriting elsewhere too, the fuzzed grooves of “Bitchcraft” and dusty swing of “Worthless Men.” The trouble is the low mids clinging to most of the record like fog: a pile-up around 200-400 Hz muddies the picture, guitars masking a dull contourless bass, “Haven” opening matte and murky with buried drums, “Too Worn to Tell” swamping its bass into a diffuse hum, “Arcahic Freeway” boxy with harsh cymbals, and the modern-sounding cuts (“Mr Fear,” “Quiet Flowers”) flattening transients for volume. The vintage haze is partly the point but costs the riffs their definition. Charming and warm, murky everywhere the title track isn’t.
Standout tracks: A Million Years, Bitchcraft, Worthless Men
