In an age when music tends towards the derivative, the mechanical, the over-produced, Black Magician cast their attention backwards, and then back some more. The result of many a long discussion in country pubs, and long rambles through the more isolated areas of the English countryside, they formed through mutual appreciation of 70s prog, eerie folklore and a good real ale.
While they confess to being just as influenced by the late 60s British folk scene as by the old guard of heavy metal and doom, there’s no hippy-drippy philosophising here. Black Magician’s ideology is firmly rooted in the sinister. The brooding landscape of Arthur Machen, the haunted countryside of M.R. James, is where they reside most contentedly.
Black Magician distance themselves from the current trend for pseudo-occult rehashed doom posturing and clichéd horror film imagery. What you can expect is something much more sincere, a genuine fascination with the darker side of British history.
Monolithic cosmic-nod-inducing riffs, swirling Hammond organ and dark acoustic passages are the ingredients in this alchemical brew, the resulting concoction a grim incantation, an ode to anti-urbanism, a very English darkness.