With All Shall Go, Damos Room push their practice into a zone of deliberate unravelling, a record that turns away from spectacle and immediacy to work instead on pressure, proximity and slow erosion. The trio of Elijah Minnelli, Luke Miles and Nicholas Elson approach sound less as material to be arranged than as weather to be summoned: a climate that thickens around the listener until perception itself starts to shift. Rather than chasing climaxes or obvious peaks, the album traces a long, patient descent, where what matters is not what explodes but what remains, what clings to the air after each element has been stripped back.

For Long Gone Are The Old Traditions, the release feels like a natural extension of the label’s commitment to sound as atmosphere and atmosphere as doctrine. The music here does not decorate a room; it alters the room’s internal logic, nudging attention towards its corners and thresholds. From the opening moments, dub is reduced to its barest properties - weight, echo, absence - as if the genre had been boiled down to a handful of functions and then re‑deployed in a new, stark liturgy. Bass no longer underlines a beat so much as warp the floorboards. Echo ceases to be an effect and becomes a kind of memory: a reminder that something was here a second ago and is now irretrievably gone.

Around these sparse coordinates, Damos Room build a landscape of corroded textures and distant, disembodied voices. Harmonic material arrives like rusted sheet metal, bowed and buckling; higher frequencies flake and peel, leaving behind a fine dust that seems suspended in the mix. Vocals drift at the edge of legibility, more apparition than statement, their grain eroded until only tone and breath persist. The overall impression is of a space that is both devotional and terminal: devotional in its focus and restraint, terminal in the sense that everything feels on the cusp of disintegration. This is music that kneels down inside its own decay and listens for what is left.