Dogmatic debris
Senior Fellows’ Shallow Grave is a politically charged bundle of thorns
From left, James Plumlee, Chad Malone. Inset: Shallow Grave for a Dying God
Sarah Whitsett
At Senior Fellows’ recent release of Shallow Grave for a Dying God, singer Champ Morgan pointed out my King Diamond shirt. Morgan, a Texan, told me about running into the King at a Dallas grocery store. They talked for an hour, not about music, but NASCAR and the glory of Dale Earnhardt. That’s just an aside though. Morgan’s inclusion on this album is an interesting aside as well.
A singer for grindcore titans Kill the Client, Morgan first heard Senior Fellows’ brand of sludge while on a work trip. When the Starship Records & Tapes clerks pointed him toward some “heavy Tulsa music,” Morgan was floored by their debut album, Ecclesiastical Servitude. He reached out to bandleader James Plumlee, and a friendly exchange led to him recording half of the vocals on Senior Fellows’ sophomore release.
On Shallow Grave for a Dying God, Morgan shares vocal duties with Tulsa punk mainstay Chad Malone, and the band, for the first time, is a real band. James Plumlee is the sole original member, and for all intents and purposes, he is Senior Fellows. Early performances had him drumming to recordings of the other instruments while Dustin Cleveland bellowed in manic proselytization. Plumlee, who recorded every instrument, pitched the recordings an octave down and blasted them through a wall of amps. That duo produced the album that converted Morgan. A few years and many personnel changes later, Shallow Grave for a Dying God emerges from the tomb.
Omnipotent, omnipresent and omniscient sludge is the work of Senior Fellows. Their brand of drudgery eschews the bluesy riffing of Eyehategod and the theatrical tones of traditional doom like Candlemass. Instead, it’s a sound not entirely alone, but close. Neurosis is the nearest sonic cousin that comes to mind, but—as with all Neurosis comparisons—it’s just the same galaxy, not solar system.
The album is a snail-paced bundle of steel thorns, scouring the dogmatic debris from a millennium of human progress and enlightenment. Drummer Nick Flores takes his hammers to glowing steel, while Zach Litwack shovels low-end coal with his bass. Plumlee—his leads a swinging lamp in the murk—chugs, lurches and casts light on the shirking corners of ignorance.
Morgan and Malone are demons, pure and simple. The two vocalists trade off, screaming the blasphemous lyrics penned by Plumlee and Malone. If you’re familiar with Malone’s Brother Inferior, Plumlee’s time in Heemeyer or any of their mutual projects like Bring Down the Hammer, the subject matter will come as no surprise.
Shallow Grave for a Dying God is more than an arresting title for a Bible Belt LP, but a scathing finger in the face of all feigning holiness. Flaming arrows are aimed at the religious right, our nation’s healthcare (disease management) system, white collar criminals (and whether torturing them is a good idea), nationalism and wage slavery disguised as patriotism, and all facets of the dangerous idea that is organized religion. If the quiver’s contents weren’t vicious enough, their delivery by the duo could stop an army of holy knights.
Through the lineup changes, random kindness of record store clerks and delays that are plaguing nationwide pressing plants, Senior Fellows has delivered unto us this: one of the heaviest pieces of wax to emerge from Tulsa. Crystallizing their lineup around a gospel of damnation, the Fellows are now warrior monks, preaching the bad news of what’s been done in the good news’ name.
For more from Mitch, read his review of Paul Benjaman Band's album Sneaker.