Ordinarily, the mere admission by a band that they regularly attend church -- without gas-cans and matches -- would constitute a roadblock on the highway to success in a field founded on faux Satanism. Not content with just one obstacle, they have erected another by sticking resolutely to their native Russian tongue. It's not as if their brand of melodic death-tinged doom is inaccessible; on the contrary, the languid melancholia is as easy listening as this gets this side of My Dying Bride. There is little variance beyond a standard doom mid-tempo, and the occasional diversion into clean singing is dire to say the least. That's not entirely accurate; the re-recorded demo tracks are slower, with generic, more dismal doom riffs, rather than the easygoing melancholia of before, but lacks the almost casual flair of the album proper. This is not particularly groundbreaking, but will appeal to a broad base of metalheads.