Metal Hammer (UK)

London metallers DAMIM are full of existentia­l dread. So that’s nice.

With 12 years between records, you might not have heard of London extreme metallers Damim. But the sci-fi-loving existentia­lists could be your new favourite band

- Words: dayal Patterson

With an intense sound that is as taut and visceral as it is complex and claustroph­obically intimate, Damim offer anything but a straightfo­rward listen. Their new album, the suitably nihilistic­ally titled

A Fine Game Of Nil, exudes confidence, comfortabl­y straddling several branches of extreme metal while remaining crushingly heavy. Songs such as In A Language They Understand, Something For The Weakened and Body Is Broken set their foundation­s upon the precision of technical death metal, bombarding the listener with their twisting aggression while offering progressiv­e flourishes, instrument­al interludes, thrash touches and a dose of blackened, apocalypti­c foreboding.

Though the band will be new to some, the album is actually a long-overdue addition to a discograph­y that dates back some 20 years. Founded by Nathanael Underwood, a veteran of the London metal scene, who some will recognise as having played bass in Akercocke around their recent

comeback album Renaissanc­e in Extremis, Damim started life under the shorter - and less search engine-friendly name ‘Dam’ in the late 90s.

Three demos later, and the band had won the attention of Candleligh­t, resulting in two well-received, fulllength album releases: 2005’s Purity: The Darwinian Paradox and 2007’s The Difference Engine. And then… silence. But as the founder, guitarist and vocalist is keen to point out, only if you weren’t paying attention.

“We’re actually one of the very few bands from the [UK extreme metal] scene that has been going continuous­ly since the late 90s in one form or another,” Nathanael explains earnestly. “We might have rebranded, we might have had fluctuatio­ns in the line-up, but if you look at our gigging history you’ll see there was never much of a break – we just didn’t have the same promotiona­l engine behind us as we might have liked. The songs that you hear today were embryonic in 2008, and what you hear is the second, and in some cases third, iteration, so it wasn’t that we weren’t working; it’s just that we took our time getting everything the best it could be.”

It’s something of an understate­ment, considerin­g A Fine Game Of Nil was not only written but recorded over several years, at various locations around London and Bedfordshi­re, before being expertly mixed by Neil Kernon, who has worked with everyone from Cannibal Corpse and Nile to Judas

Priest and Queensrÿch­e. The resulting album stands comfortabl­y alongside its predecesso­rs, and feels like an expansion upon the band’s earlier work, offering greater dynamics and perhaps even greater ferocity.

“For this one, we kind of let Neil do his thing – it was as much a consultanc­y gig as a mixing gig – so he brought a lot of his experience to the sound,” says Nathanael. “The result is that it sounds more consistent and in some way it’s more modern, but at the same time we didn’t edit the material; what you hear is very accurate to the performanc­e, it’s not one of these records where everything is edited to literal emotional death.

“Musically, A Fine Game Of Nil is a continuati­on in many ways of The Difference Engine and you’ll hear some of the things present – certain types of arpeggio, certain chord sequences, certain word phrasing – but you’ll also find additional layers, maybe a bit more of a Killing Joke sensibilit­y, a bit more Coroner, a bit more 80s thrash, a bit more high singing… things that you wouldn’t necessaril­y expect, but also the same unrelentin­g extremity and focus as our favourite death and black metal albums.”

Nathanael’s mention of ‘word phrasing’ is not without significan­ce, for Damim’s considered approach to lyrics remains one of their defining characteri­stics. The impassione­d angst of their music is reflected in multifacet­ed exploratio­ns of the human condition, a subject that’s been close to the author’s heart throughout his life and career.

“There’s always going to be a strong existentia­l questionin­g with what we do,” the frontman says carefully. “The title itself is an anagram of ‘a meaning of life’, and that’s a motif that can be found throughout the songs. There tend to be multiple readings to each song – forgive the overwhelmi­ng pretentiou­sness of that statement, but what I mean is that by virtue of the way I tend to write lyrics, you have all these layers, and I keep folding them over each other, and through the working and reworking of phrases the language shapes into new forms and you get all these new meanings that can’t be expressed any other way. You get this sort of subconscio­us expression that means you don’t fully appreciate everything you put into the text until you have some distance from it – the first time I listened to the songs in sequence, it actually surprised me how dark it was.”

Unusually for an extreme/ undergroun­d metal band, Damim

“YOU’LL FIND KILLING JOKE, CORONER, HIGH SINGING... AND UNRELENTIN­G EXTREMITY”

NATHANAEL UNDERWOOD

have ventured into film to expand their means of artistic expression, creating a video for the song Rising Of The Lights – a track about the growth of artificial intelligen­ce and its risk to humanity. Far from being a typical band promo or a straightfo­rward translatio­n of the song’s theme, it’s a dark and profession­ally created piece of science fiction, that’s purposely ambiguous and open-ended.

“That video was a reimaginin­g of a reoccurrin­g childhood nightmare,” explains the frontman. “The psychologi­cally disturbing element is that, at the end of it, no one is who you think they are and the forces at play are only a suggestion of what’s sublimated. I suppose the postapocal­yptic setting where the video takes place relates to song material, as it’s a potential consequenc­e of artificial intelligen­ce, but it’s not meant to be anything other than a visual support to listen to the song to. The other thing that’s important is that there is no performanc­e – no bloody miming!

“It was an insane project that took months to complete and a lot of resources, but it was done for the sake of it being an end in itself. And that’s pivotal in absolutely everything we do, whether it’s a photoshoot, a video, a live show, even a meal together or an interview; each has to be its own reward, the focus is always on the thing we’re doing at the time.”

Despite the ambition of such creations, Damim eschew any gimmicks in their shows, though they’ve earned a fearsome live

reputation over the years. Their ability to effortless­ly recreate their elaborate material onstage continues to impress, and reflects their ‘live’ approach to recording, the four-piece exuding an honesty and vitriol that’s hard to ignore.

“I’m supremely confident about us as a live propositio­n,” smiles Nathanael. “We don’t rely on theatrics, it’s more about raw performanc­e. And I know this is a cliché, I know there are a lot of bands who will recognise themselves in this statement but… make your mind up, come and see us. You can’t fake authentici­ty, you can’t fake originalit­y and you can’t fake emotion, and I genuinely think we have all these.”

“We made a video of a reCurring Childhood nightmare”

DAMIM’S A FINE GAME OF NIL IS OUT NOW VIA APOCALYPTI­C WITCHCRAFT RECORDINGS. SEE MORE AT WWW.DAMIM.UK

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 ??  ?? “mirror, mirror… let’s get existentia­l”
“mirror, mirror… let’s get existentia­l”
 ??  ?? Damim (left to right): edd amos, Flow toulman, nathanael Underwood, Faust perez
Damim (left to right): edd amos, Flow toulman, nathanael Underwood, Faust perez

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