Fields of the Nephilim Albums (10)
What The Critics Say
The early 21st century experienced a glut of metal bands that incorporated obvious elements of goth into their sound -- especially detected in their appreciation of symphonic and keyboard sounds (as well as their fashion sense). Most of these groups knowingly or unknowingly borrowed a thing or two from Fields of the Nephilim. Led by Carl McCoy, Fields of the Nephilim have long specialized in an extremely sonically rich and layered goth sound, and continue to do so, as evidenced by their 2006 release, Mourning Sun. Although not as brutally heavy as some modern-day goth metal acts, McCoy's oft-growled vocals wouldn't sound entirely out of place in your average band comprised of members in white makeup, black attire, and pointy guitars. The material on Mourning Sun manages to have a progressive edge as well, as the majority of the album's seven tracks stretch over seven minutes in duration. Produced solely by McCoy (who isn't keen on listing which musicians aided him on the recording) and recorded at various locations via a mobile recording studio, Mourning Sun contains such standout goth-prog-metal epics as the slowly building "Shroud (Exordium)" and the sprawling album-closing title track. Further proof that Fields of the Nephilim are the leaders of the symphonic metal pack. ~ Greg Prato, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
What was touted as a rebirth of the seminal gothic troupe, the first new material from bandleader and vocalist Carl McCoy as Fields of the Nephilim in over a decade, might have been more of a marketing ploy than anything else; none of the original bandmembers aside from McCoy appear on Fallen, but more damning was the band's website, which, upon the release of the disc, insisted in no uncertain terms that they wanted nothing more to do with the name Fields of the Nephilim and accusing the disc as being an unauthorized cash-in of unreleased (and, they further claimed, unfinished) demos that were pilfered by their label. Without bearing this unique situation in mind, Fallen is a decent enough disc. It fits between early Sisters of Mercy, the crunch of Zoon, and the more gothic-flavored of the nü crew (think Godhead) -- all without seeming outdated or contrived. Considering the state of affairs, however, one doesn't know what to think, except that the band makes some high-quality demos. ~ Brian O'Neill, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Released to coincide with the much-publicized Fields of the Nephilim reunion, From Gehenna to Here brings together the band's first two EPs onto CD. A handful of tracks reappeared on Dawnrazor, but the majority -- including live favorite "Trees Come Down" -- are gathered together for the first time. It's perhaps not as essential as it could be, since the band's sound hadn't entirely matured by that point, but die-hard fans will still want this. ~ Jim Harper, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
After Carl McCoy left the Fields of the Nephilim in a spectacular huff -- though keeping the rights to the name, or some variation of it as it turned out -- he apparently went into hibernation for nearly half a decade before resurfacing. By the time he did, the industrial/metal fusions of Nine Inch Nails and White Zombie had shifted the sights of many goth-inclined rockers, while everything from underground black metal to the incipient nu-metal breakthrough also pointed to an extreme, wired, and wound-up combination of brutal riff noise. McCoy wasn't ignoring any of this, and the Nefilim's one album found him sounding even more thrashed than ever, the music often exchanging the subtleties of Elizium for a thrilling if not always unique explosion of feedback. The moments where McCoy lets his black-clad Morricone idolatry seep more clearly through the mix provide the best and most memorable moments -- the sudden slow break in "Xodus," the rising start and slow-grind crunch of "Melt" (his vocals here really do sound demonic), the extended atmospherics on the three-part title track. The album high point, "Shine," in particular proves the logical extension from Elizium -- McCoy's raspier singing retains all of its dark attractiveness with the calmer start, while the main arrangement balances thrash with a controlled, surging build. In many ways, though, this really is a new band through and through -- if McCoy's lyrical obsessions about power, mysticism, and doom are still front and center, the Nefilim are out to invigorate mosh pits rather than pagan temples. Guitarist Paul Miles can spit out the skull-crushing riffs with the best of them, while the Cian Houchin/Simon Rippin rhythm section matches the energy just as well, making such rampages as "Penetration," "Pazuzu," and "Venus Decomposing" a good headbanging time. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
One reason the Fields of the Nephilim were so successful at what they did was their live performance sense. If McCoy especially wasn't really believing he was carrying out religious rites from a long-dead mystic past, then he sure knew how to put on a convincing act, while the remaining four gave no quarter, turning the sometimes subtler edges of their studio work into full-on attack. Call it heavy metal by any other standard -- it was loud enough to be just that, but instead of wannabe-blues wankery or Metallithrash, everything was suffused in the band's unique, doom-laden combination of earlier goth, Morricone, and aggressive prog, with the amps cranked to ten. Inferno, the Nephilim's final official release before their late 1991 breakup, captures songs from three separate 1990 shows, artfully combined in one powerful document. If the band never exactly performed a full set like this, then they definitely should have. Including three of the four main Elizium numbers in full versions -- "For Her Light," "Submission," and "Sumerland" -- Inferno also draws upon established past hits as "Preacher Man," "Moonchild," and "Psychonaut," plus album cuts "Love Under Will," "Last Exit for the Lost," and the concluding "Dawnrazor," made even more majestic and commanding than the studio version, if that's possible. Generally little is changed in the actual arrangements of the songs for the live venue -- "Psychonaut" has a mostly full-band performance throughout, while slight alterations are also done for "Sumerland." In terms of fire and force, though, these takes can be considered definitive through and through. McCoy's wracked vocals are that of a man possessed, Nod Wright's huge drumming doesn't let up, Paul Wright and Yates' guitars know when to hold back and when to completely let loose, and Pettitt's bass provides the moody undertow for it all. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
For the first time since Dawnrazor, the Nephilim worked with someone other than Bill Buchanan as producer; whatever Andy Jackson's particular qualifications, happily he knew not to ruin a good thing. The end result was the band's best all-around album, consisting of four lengthy pieces that showcase their now near-peerless abilities to create involved, textured, driving, and loud pieces of rock. It was still goth as all heck, but like the best bands in any genre, the Nephilim transcended such artificial limitations to create their own sound. McCoy still comes up with an occasionally curious lyric, to put it mildly, but such is the power of his performance as well as the band's that, at least for the time it's playing, Elizium really does sound like it's about to call up darkling spirits from the nether planes. The opening song is divided into four parts but mainly known by its second, "For Her Light," which was edited into a single. It moves from initial crashes of noise, feedback, and keyboards to catchier brooding and riff action, a calmer midsection with appropriate samples of Alistair Crowley, and a last slamming run to the song's conclusion. "Submission" stands on its own, switching between minimal bass with guitar stabs and massive crescendos. "Sumerland (What Dreams May Come)" takes the apocalyptic element of the Nephilim to its furthest extent; its relentless pulse supports some of the most powerful guitar out there while McCoy achieves a similar high point with his commanding voice. "Wail of Sumer" concludes Elizium on a striking two-part note, gently floating rather than exploding over its length, while McCoy's lost, regretful voice drifts along with it as a soft, yet still unnerving conclusion. Combine that with another fantastic job on art design, and Elizium, once you accept the Nephilim's basic conceits, simply stuns. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Having built a considerable and passionate fanbase, the Nephilim approached their second album with confidence and a clutch of stunning new songs. The resulting, semi-self-titled release blows away the first by a mile (the art design alone, depicting an ancient, worn book with strange symbols, is a winner), being an elegantly produced and played monster of dark, powerful rock. Even if McCoy's cries and husked whispers don't appeal to all, once the listener gets past that to the music, the band simply goes off, incorporating their various influences -- especially a good dollop of pre-Dark Side of the Moon Pink Floyd (think songs like "One of These Days") -- to create a massive blast of a record. Buchanan again produces with a careful ear for maximum impact, whether it be the roaring rage of "Chord of Souls" or the minimal guitar and slight keyboard wash of "Celebrate"; McCoy's vocal on the latter is especially fine as a careful, calm brood that matches the music. Perhaps most surprising about the album is that it yielded an honest-to-goodness U.K. Top 40 hit with "Moonchild," which is very much in the vein of earlier songs like "Preacher Man" but with just enough of a catchier chorus and softer guitar part in the verse to make a wider mark. Though the first part of the album is quite fine, including such longtime fan favorites as "The Watchman" and "Phobia," after "Moonchild" the record simply doesn't let up, building to a fantastic three-song conclusion. "Celebrate" is followed by "Love Under Will," a windswept, gloomily romantic number with a lovely combination of the band's regular push and extra keyboards for effect. "Last Exit for the Lost" wraps everything up on an astonishing high; starting off softly with just bass, synths, one guitar, and McCoy, it then gently speeds up more and more, pumping up the volume and finally turning into a momentous, unstoppable tidal wave of electric energy. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Losing the saxophone player from earlier EPs and taking advantage of better budgets and studios, the Nephilim on their first full album established themselves as serious contenders in the goth world. It certainly didn't hurt having signed to Beggars Banquet, home of such acts as Bauhaus and the Cult, though the more obvious source of the Nephilim's sound at this point was the Sisters of Mercy, various attempts to deny it aside. Like Eldritch's crew, the Nephilim fivesome weren't aiming just for the clad-in-black audience, but at being a great group in general; while that goal wasn't quite achieved on Dawnrazor, the band came very close. With sympathetic and evocative production throughout by Bill Buchanan, the album strongly showcases another chief element of the Nephilim's sound: Ennio Morricone. The at-the-time totally outrageous fusion of smoky, cinematic spaghetti western guitars with the doom-wracked ominous flavor of the music in general, not to mention McCoy's growled invocations of pagan ceremonies and mystic energy, provoked a lot of merriment from outside observers. The Nephilim stuck to their guns, though, and by wisely never cracking a smile on this album, they avoided the cheap ironic way out. Songs here which would become classics in the band's repertoire included the fiery "Preacher Man," which sounds like what would happen if Sergio Leone filmed a Stephen King story; the quick, dark gallop of "Power" (originally a separate single, then added to the album on later pressings); and the slow, powerful build of the title track, featuring McCoy practically calling the demons down on his head. For all of the undeniable musicianship and storming fury of the songs, sometimes things just get a little too goofy for words, as revealed in a classic, unintentionally hilarious lyric by McCoy from "Vet for the Insane": "The flowers in the kitchen...WEEP for you!." ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
