Imagine standing at the threshold between devotion and damnation, where grief is ritualised and suffering becomes sacrament. That’s the space The Medea Project occupy on Live at Dingwalls, a record that doesn’t merely document a performance but preserves a moment of communion between artist, audience, and something far older and darker than both.
Yes, on paper this is a live album. Five tracks, just over 30 minutes, recorded at London’s Dingwalls 2. But calling Live at Dingwalls a “live album” feels inadequate, like describing an execution as a public gathering. What Brett Minnie and Pauline Silver deliver here is closer to a liturgy — a slow, deliberate summoning of despair, channelled through Gothic Doom Metal that bleeds sincerity and intention from every note.
The Medea Project have always thrived in spaces where heaviness is measured not by speed or volume but by emotional density. That approach becomes even more potent in a live setting. There’s no studio gloss here, no safety net, no chance to hide behind production tricks. What you hear is breath, strain, feedback, reverberation — the sound of two people dragging something ancient and wounded into the light and refusing to let it go quietly.
From the opening moments of Dance of the Void, the atmosphere is suffocating. The guitars don’t so much riff as they loom, hanging in the air like storm clouds that never quite break. Each chord lands with the weight of accumulated sorrow, and the pacing is glacial without ever feeling indulgent.
There’s no theatrical exaggeration here, no performative misery — just raw, exposed lamentation that feels pulled from somewhere deeply personal. Every sound feels intentional, every pause loaded with meaning. Live, the space between notes becomes just as important as the notes themselves, allowing the songs to breathe and the tension to coil tighter with each passing minute.
What makes Live at Dingwalls truly special is how completely it captures the room. You can feel the air moving, the silence shifting like an approaching death, the collective stillness of an audience that understands it’s witnessing something that demands respect. There’s an unspoken agreement here — no chatter, no distraction — just shared immersion. The crowd aren’t participants so much as witnesses, present for something solemn and irreversible.
Despite the extended track lengths, the album never drags. Time behaves differently in The Medea Project’s world. Songs unfold slowly, but they’re constantly evolving, shifting mood and intensity with a quiet confidence that keeps you locked in. This isn’t background music. It insists on your attention, your patience, and your emotional availability.
Live albums often struggle to justify their existence, offering little more than slightly rougher versions of studio tracks. Live at Dingwalls avoids that pitfall entirely by feeling definitive. This isn’t a supplement to the band’s catalogue — it’s a cornerstone. If you wanted to explain The Medea Project to someone who’d never heard them before, this would be the place to start.
There’s something deeply human about this record. Beneath the ritual, the gloom, and the funereal pacing lies a profound sense of vulnerability. This is music made by people unafraid to sit with discomfort, to let sorrow linger, to acknowledge pain without trying to dress it up or rush past it. In that sense, Live at Dingwalls feels honest in a way few records dare to be.
And that, ultimately, is the mark of a live album done right — not just capturing what happened on stage, but preserving the feeling of having been there, standing in the dark, watching something beautiful and terrible unfold in real time.
Live At Dingwalls by The Medea Project is available January 9th via Bandcamp.
CHOICE CUT: The Desert Song & The Cave Song
BLACK METAL ARCHIVES VERDICT: Live at Dingwalls isn’t a live album so much as a rite caught on tape — raw, harrowing, and devastatingly sincere. The Medea Project strip everything back to grief, atmosphere, and intent, and what’s left is Gothic Doom at its most intimate and punishing.
PRESS SOURCE: Imperative PR
