A campfire séance of doom, banjo, and wicked charm
Out of the shadowy woods of Western Massachusetts comes a record that feels like Johnny Cash and Black Sabbath locked themselves in a cabin, passed around a bottle, and started spinning tales about madness, religion, and alien dog-eaters. Doom Folk, the debut album from Buzzard — the solo project of Christopher Thomas Elliott — is a beautifully weird, strikingly cohesive blend of folk, doom, bluegrass, and sharp-tongued storytelling.
What makes this album shine is its raw authenticity. Nothing here feels forced. It’s just one guy in a basement doing exactly what he wants — and hitting a strangely perfect nerve in the process. Elliott wrote, played, and produced the whole thing himself, using banjo, hand drums, fuzzed-out bass, and scraps of scribbled lyrics that sound like they came from a haunted beat poet’s notebook.
The opening track, “Buzzard,” sets the tone with a dusty Americana stomp and Elliott’s matter-of-fact vocals that feel more like a ghost story than a song. “Lucifer Rise” channels 60s loner folk in the best way, while “Death Metal in America” delivers biting satire wrapped in a groove you can’t shake. There’s doom, there’s country, there’s dark humor and heart — and somehow it all holds together like a tattered quilt stitched from backwoods nightmares and dive bar philosophies.
The lyrics are a real standout — loaded with irony, dark wit, and a sense of surreal menace. Think Bill Hicks channeling Lovecraft with a banjo in hand. The songs are full of stoner cockroaches, misanthropic witches, and existential despair — but it’s all delivered with a knowing grin and just enough absurdity to make you lean in.
Despite the variety in tone and style, Doom Folk never feels scattered. Every track contributes to the same dusty, doom-soaked atmosphere — a world where you half expect the Devil to be nursing a whiskey at the edge of the firelight.
What Buzzard has created here is more than a solid debut — it’s a fully formed, wonderfully eccentric musical universe. For those willing to step outside the usual genre lines, Doom Folk offers something rare: a record that feels familiar and completely fresh at the same time.
Doom Folk is a dark, soulful trip through a world where the old, weird America meets fuzzed-out heaviness and sly cosmic humor. Honest, strange, and totally its own thing — Buzzard is one to watch.
-Helge Neumann
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