Most of the necessary funeral doom components make their appearance during the course of _Weeping Winter_. Drug-slowed drum hits. Left-handed piano plunking. Richter-rumbling vocals. Atmospheric string-mimicking synths. Guitars? Nowhere in sight. Or earshot. Apparently A.A.S., the German muscle behind all this seasonal misery, doesn't have a guitar or amp setup around to belch out his most depressive chords. Gristly bass keyboard fuzz muddies the low end on _Weeping Winter_. Does this fact damage your frail opinion of The Cold View? Shouldn't. The endless drear weighing down _Weeping Winter_ doesn't suffer from the lack. Perhaps the introduction of a guitar could slap some color into these ashy cheeks, but maybe the thought itself rejects the album's true purpose. The five tracks, named for the five frigid months during 2011 and 2012 when they were written, should drag you dreadfully to the earth, then beneath it through wet graves and into permanent stone. The cursed, clanking piano just hardens that impression. As advertised, _Weeping Winter_ should bleed all warmth and willpower from your spirit and leave you a cracked and wailing husk.

Because a vision, softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains. Within the sound of The Cold View.