For nearly a decade, British heavy metal band Green Lung has been taking the darker aspects of doom and sludge and blending them with progressive rock, folk, psychedelic rock, and the theatrical traditions of classic British horror. Beginning with their 2017 demo Green Man Rising and the 2018 EP Free the Witch, the band went on to release three studio albums, Woodland Rites in 2019, Black Harvest in 2021, and This Heathen Land in 2023. Now, with their fourth studio album, Necropolitan, released through Nuclear Blast, Green Lung continue to build on that foundation while pushing their sound into even darker territory.
There has always been a sense that Green Lung are carrying forward the legacy of the classic British heavy-rock bands that came before them, particularly Black Sabbath, Queen, and Deep Purple. You can hear the influence of Sabbath’s early Vertigo-era darkness and Deep Purple’s early-1970s progressive hard-rock period, especially the Mark II lineup, but Green Lung never sound like they are simply copying their heroes. Instead, they take those ingredients and add their own volcanic blast, creating something that feels both familiar and completely their own.
Necropolitan arrives at exactly the right time and place for a band whose music feels tailor-made for Hammer Horror, Giallo cinema, and the strange atmosphere of 1970s horror films. And we aren’t talking about the AMC television series The Walking Dead. We’re talking about movies like The Wicker Man, Dawn of the Dead, The Devil Rides Out, Black Sunday, and Blood and Black Lace.
Green Lung’s music often feels like an alternate soundtrack to those films, carrying forward the cinematic spirit of filmmakers such as Mario Bava, George A. Romero, and Robin Hardy while turning those influences into their own musical language.
From the rumbling organ drone that introduces ‘Open the Hellmouth’, you immediately feel as if you’re entering a surrealistic nightmare on a planet that has gone horribly wrong. It could almost exist inside the universe of Dead Space or Cronos: The New Dawn, with a spooky, post-apocalyptic atmosphere surrounding the chant and ritualistic drum beats that prepare you for the bloodbath about to begin.
Once ‘Dance to the Grave’ kicks in, those monstrous riffs climb and descend like you’re walking up and down a spiral staircase into hell. The song immediately brings to mind the Pawn Hearts era of Van der Graaf Generator and Khan’s Space Shanty, especially in the way Green Lung creates a sense of impending doom without sacrificing the progressive-rock character of the music.
The complexity between the guitars and organ, constantly moving back and forth with one another, is incredible. Tom Templar channels some of the dramatic vocal qualities associated with Damon Fox of Bigelf, and at this point, all bets are completely off. Scott Black and John Wright have created an arrangement that feels like a musical version of a flaming wicker man, building toward a climactic roar as if Peter Hammill had somehow entered a parallel universe and taken over the production booth on Necropolitan.
You can also tell that Green Lung have been listening closely to the Italian progressive-rock tradition. The introduction to ‘Black Magick Radio’ has that static-to-terror transition, slowly turning into a headbanging roar as if you’re tuning into a forbidden radio broadcast from another dimension. I’m not kidding!
Green Lung have been digging deep into their own sources of inspiration, almost as if they had been flipping through issues of Heavy Metal magazine and stepping into the illustrated fantasy world of warrior goddess Taarna, preparing for another adventure waiting around the corner.
Yes, Green Lung are going to be compared to Black Sabbath and Deep Purple, and those comparisons are completely understandable. But there is much more going on here than those two bands alone. The Italian prog influence fits like a glove, especially in the concerto-like guitar textures. Some of Scott Black’s lead work and riffing could make Brian May stop and take notice, while Joseph Ghast’s fuzz-heavy bass and Matt Wiseman’s booming drums provide the foundation for Wright’s mellotron-like keyboard escapism.
With its blistering, proto-punk, revved-up engine, ‘Necropolitan Line’ brings a different kind of energy into the album. It reaches back toward the Detroit scene of the 1970s, particularly The Stooges and the original Alice Cooper band, while Wright’s metallic organ attack fires on all cylinders.
Then ‘Evil in This House’ makes you want to dig out that old Vertigo Records logo you have hidden away in a milk crate, staring at those classic swirling-label albums and remembering how their artwork often felt like it was telling a story of its own. The whole thing has the atmosphere of an E.C. Comics horror anthology, like Tales from the Crypt brought to life through heavy metal.
After the first five tracks, Green Lung take a breather from the heaviest instrumentation and bring us into a gothic campfire setting with ‘Together in Death’. The acoustic guitars, dooming piano, and sea-shanty-like folklore atmosphere give the song a psychedelic, almost Beatles-esque quality. If you think they’re suddenly going to give us a traditional ballad, think again.
They bring the heavy instruments back into the sixth track with the attitude of, “Oh, you think we’re going soft? You are dead wrong!” That’s how powerful and brutally honest Green Lung are. They aren’t making apologies, and they aren’t trying to become something they’re not. They stay true to who they are. In the words of HUNTR/X, they show the other metal bands how it’s done, done, done!
And yes, we’re back in the Deep Purple mountains, reaching the top of the cliff with the headbanging organ, blaring riffs, and epic structure of ‘Ozymandias’. Then ‘Alostrael’ continues the storytelling with textures that can send shivers down your spine.
The combination of Scott Black’s guitar work and J. G. Wright’s organ and keyboard arrangements show just how well these two work together. They give Templar the musical foundation he needs to reach the finish line and complete the mission, while the entire band deserves credit for the brotherhood and chemistry they have developed over the years.
When we reach the closing track, ‘To the Gallows Born’, you can almost imagine the piece being written as the soundtrack to Sergeant Howie’s arrival on Summerisle in The Wicker Man. He arrives by seaplane on the remote Hebridean island, unaware that he is doomed almost from the very beginning.
Green Lung captures that same combination of acid folk, surrealism, pagan atmosphere, and creeping insanity that makes the film such a classic. It’s another perfect example of how the band can take folklore and horror and transform them into something that feels completely alive.
Mind you, this is my first time listening to Green Lung’s music, and I have to say that I am extremely impressed with Necropolitan. This album feels like a horror movie playing inside your head, with every song opening another door into a darker room. It is the kind of record that keeps you guessing and makes you want to go back for repeat listens just to discover what you missed the first time.
There isn’t a single bad track on this album. From the opening rumble of ‘Open the Hellmouth’ to the final moments of ‘To the Gallows Born’, Green Lung has created a record that feels cinematic, sinister, progressive, and completely alive.
If this is my first introduction to the band, then I can only imagine there is plenty more where that came from. Necropolitan has officially opened the door, and I’m ready to see where Green Lung take us next.
