Castle delivers another slab of classic heavy doom metal with Carrie Chains, a record that grabs you from the opening riff and refuses to let go. The first spin pulls you in; the second turns the flame higher; by the third, you’re completely under its spell. This is the kind of album that gets dangerously addictive, the kind that keeps finding its way back onto the turntable or a CD player long after you’ve convinced yourself you’re going to listen to something else.
There is an unmistakable rock ’n’ roll backbone running through Carrie Chains, and that is a big part of what makes the record hit so hard. Castle understands that doom doesn’t need to be slow, gloomy wallpaper—it needs riffs, attitude, groove, and songs that stick. The band’s 1970s influence is all over the place, but it never feels like empty nostalgia. The sounds are familiar, yet somehow fresh, and before long you realize that what you’re hearing carries the unmistakable Castle stamp established on their previous records.
And then there are the riffs.
Mat Davis is an absolute riff machine. He throws them around with the confidence of a guitarist who knows exactly when to hold back and when to strike. Every riff has weight, purpose, and enough character to stand on its own. But Castle’s real magic happens when Davis locks in with Liz Blackwell. Her bass work gives those riffs an extra layer of muscle, while her charismatic vocals bring the songs their dark personality. Together, they create that rare chemistry that can’t be manufactured in a studio. You can hear it on record, and you can imagine it becoming downright dangerous on stage.
What makes Carrie Chains particularly satisfying is that no two tracks feel like carbon copies. The riffing is unmistakably Castle, but every song develops its own personality. There is plenty of doom, plenty of heavy rock, and plenty of vintage atmosphere, yet the band keeps finding new little twists to keep things interesting.
There is also a wonderfully twisted sense of humor lurking beneath the darkness. Carrie Chains has a morbid streak, but it isn’t afraid to crack a wicked smile. Every now and then, something downright sinister suddenly becomes strangely funny—and that black sense of humor gives the album another dimension. The deeper you dig, the more little details reveal themselves, like secret compartments hidden inside an already loaded riff.
That is ultimately what makes Carrie Chains such a rewarding listen. Castle gives you the big riffs and the classic heavy-metal atmosphere right up front, but there is plenty more hiding underneath for those willing to keep digging.
The facts have been presented. The evidence is on the table.
Now please don’t burn the messenger!
Mark Kadzielawa
