There’s an alternative world out there, somewhere, where Black Sabbath never recruited Ozzy and, instead, spent their time honing their skills on instrumental jams built around Pink Floyd’s one of these days. It is from that universe, weird and alien as it is, that Six Months Of Sun have emerged, clad and black and with an unhealthy appetite for overloaded valve amps. Quite why they’re here is open to debate (to rid the world of its recreational marijuana supplies?) but, whatever the reason, they’re here with a vengeance and they pack a mean punch.
Kicking off with Riddle of steel, Six Months Of Sun set out their stall, with Daniel Stettler’s processed drums giving way to a barrage of patchouli-scented riffs courtesy of Christophe Grasset (guitar) and Cyril Chal (bass). Goddamn they make a lot of noise for a three-piece! It’s easy to imagine the band jamming in a room stacked high with tube amps, and it’s a mighty fine racket to, Daniel’s energetic rhythms driving the track ever forward no mater how tempted the other two may be to slow things down to a molasses-thick crawl when they think he’s not paying attention. With arcing feedback still hanging heavy in the air, the band segue straight into the tribal fury of The barbarian, a sonic recreation of Arnie’s Conan and just as potent. Cyril’s bass gets a brutal workout here, and every juddering riff just adds to the list of crimes against the skeletal structure your chiropractor has been compiling ever since you got into metal. Stepping briskly aside from delivering an album that’s all bludgeon, Six Months Of Sun deliver a nimble beast in the form of Mud Horse Rider. Still heavier than a bucket of anvils, it has an airy, tool-esque vibe amidst the surging riffs which helps to keep things interesting. However, it’s not long before the tubes are glowing once more and the temperature soars as the slow-building epic Dragon Hunter sees the band step into Kyuss territory, slipping from a haunting, melodic opening to full-bore explosion over the course of just five awesome minutes.
Opening up the second half, Anvil of war lives up to its title, the band unloading on the unsuspecting listener like an artillery barrage, all chrome-plated percussion and seething riffage. Steadfastly refusing to slacken the pace, Savage sword hangs above the listener like the sword of Damocles, ready to drop at a moment’s notice, destroying all who lay beneath. The churning intro to Death of iron, on the other hand, gives way to a track that has a subtly lighter touch before the rippling Birth of doom (best song title ever?) closes out the album somewhere between the titular genre and post-rock. It’s a fine ending to an instrumental album that manages to keep the listener’s interest right to the end thanks to the deft use of light and shade amidst the thunderous riffs.
Beautifully packaged, with artwork courtesy of Elvisisdead and with remarkable sonic depth thanks to Serge Moratel who oversaw recording, mixing and mastering, below the eternal sky is one of those rare instrumental releases that has so much energy that you barely notice the absence of vocals until the record reaches its hard-hitting conclusion. A heavy, groovy, trippy outing, below the eternal sky is a fantastic head-trip and one we thoroughly recommend you take. 10
