Waste Cult Blame CD Review
Italian Doom Metal isn’t exactly a phrase that echoes often through the halls of the underground, sure, there are flickers and ghosts of it - bands that rise and fade like candlelight, but rarely does something emerge that lingers. That is, until now. Rising from the smoke and shadows of Italy comes Waste Cult, a Doom/Post-Metal collective whose sound feels less like music and more like the haunted wind of a forgotten place.
Their origins trace back to a 4-track cassette in 2022, a raw ember of what would become something darker, deeper, and far more immersive. Since then, Waste Cult has been gathering momentum, not through mimicry, but through their own carved path, a sonic pilgrimage between Doom, Stoner haze, and apocalyptic Post-Metal despair. This isn’t the kind of band you compare. It’s the kind of band you feel.
On June 6th, the band is poised to unleash their debut full-length, titled simply, “Blame”. And make no mistake, this is no offering to the altar of Sabbath or a wistful nod to the grandeur of Candlemass and Cathedral. This is something else entirely. There’s no reverence here for tradition; rather, Waste Cult crafts emotion in slow burns and barren soundscapes. Their brand of Doom is spiritual in sensation, not mechanical in structure.
One of the most refreshing qualities is the absence of symphonic gloss or bloated theatrics. Instead, they wield riffs like slow-motion wrecking balls, lumbering, relentless, yet meditative. There’s a patient menace in every note, a Post-Metal wanderlust that brings to mind the 90s in mood, but not mimicry. And woven through it all is a strange, glimmering thread of Doomgaze, that dreamy, disassociated heaviness that feels like watching a rainstorm from underwater.
Importantly, this album is not noise for noise’s sake. There’s clarity in its construction. Each riff, each passage, is carved with intent, with melody and hook playing as much a role as tone and weight. It’s this balance that elevates “Blame” above the mire of so many modern Doom releases. It feels alive.
Vocally, the approach is understated. No growls. No shrieks. Just clean, world-weary vocals, calling out like echoes from a lonely highway. They’re not the album’s sharpest edge, but they don’t need to be. They serve the atmosphere, haunting rather than dominating, and evoke a subtle melancholy not unlike the early 90s Alternative scene. It’s not about virtuosity, it’s about vibe, cohesion, and emotional gravity.
From the opening track onward, Waste Cult doesn’t just play songs, they build a world. A dusky, slow-burning dreamscape that expands track by track, each moment heavier than the last. It’s immersive in the truest sense.
I’ve dug through a mountain of Doom releases this year, most of which collapse under their own nostalgia. But Waste Cult’s “Blame”? It rises. It breathes. It offers something rare: a new voice in a genre long obsessed with its echoes.
Standout tracks: “Maze”, “Ad Astra”, “Blame” and “Pictures”.