The music presented on The Womb of the Earth is considerably more downtrodden and anguished than post-Epicus... Candlemass or the comparatively effervescent Count Raven. To listen to Fall Of The Idols is to be ushered, by phantasmal spirits, through collapsed, dilapidated ruins, abandoned shambles that once housed vitality and happiness. There isn't a hint of optimism to be exhumed from the suffocating mire of solemn cheerlessness, and the dogged languor and despondency of the band, at the very least, exudes a frightening sense of determination/conviction. For all the despairing single-mindedness of the album, Fall Of The Idols manage to imbue the proceedings with a captivatingly hypnotic quality that, coupled with the smothering, billowing atmosphere of the mix, makes each listen a headfirst plunge into the ghastly abyss of sorrow.

The emphasis here is clearly on FEELING, locating the listener in a treacle-thick miasma of animosity and anguish, as opposed to assaulting the listener with a barrage of progressive musical ideas.