REVIEW: Genital Shame - Wellness Plan
For the past several years now, one particular record label has felt inescapable - The Flenser. Since the post-covid boom of HAVE A NICE LIFE in online circles, it’s fairly common to see them reply to posts about the band, and by extension any of the bands on the label, with a simple message. “The Flenser”. It sounds like a gimmick (mostly because it is), but we also have to remember that the repertoire of artists working with them predominantly consists of people making music that is so boundary-pushing and singular that maybe the odd reminder isn’t such a bad thing. With that in mind, any sort of announcement of them picking a new artist up is extremely exciting news.
Enter Erin Dawson, the brains behind black metal project GENITAL SHAME, a name that on a surface level, seems to play on black metal bands’ tendency to choose provocative names - but upon further inspection, it comes across as a tragic expression of trans pain, which makes for a strong first impression on its own. In the past few months, it was announced that she’d been signed to The Flenser for her second LP, Wellness Plan, the followup to 2024’s Chronic Illness Wish. That album, while it’s definitely a great listen, is maybe somewhat straightforward in parts. But there’s an amateurish charm to the production, rather than the glistening sheen usually found in blackgaze-adjacent acts, that only serves to further highlight, say, the folk influences on a song like Schooled In Every Grace. A strong debut, but clearly there’s room for further experimentation.
So fast-forward to now, we hear Wellness Plan open with this album’s first breath - Replace What I’m After, a short, folky intro that leads straight into Down Titration Strategies. It’s the album’s first big swing, and from the very first seconds it feels immense. There’s a greater emphasis on melody compared to before, the use of a synthesiser aiding greatly in adding new textures - but on top of that, we’re hearing more riffage! Clearly, there’s still a gazey-ness to it, but throughout all seven minutes we hear Dawson play with dynamics, structure, and at points even break-neck chord progression changes that keep you on your feet. A ridiculously engaging listen with several moving parts, but not in a way that makes it impossible to follow, and hopefully a sign of where the rest of the album is going.
We get more of that on fourth track and lead single I Want To Die Before You. Opening on a dissonant riff, it quickly becomes a tug of war between said riff and tremolo-picked guitars, seemingly starting and stopping at a moment’s notice. To add to the disorientating feel, we’re greeted by an odd time signature on top of this, until the song slowly slinks back into a familiar blackgaze setting, accompanied by a particularly present kick drum that seems to be the pulse running through the song. Dawson’s electrifying screamed vocals carry us away as the song fades out.
Most of note here, however, is the final run of tracks, starting with Górecki Peace, a direct reference to avant-garde composer Henryk Górecki, whose third symphony is referenced as a vessel through coping with intrusive thoughts. As excellent as the lyricism on this track is, it’s merely secondary to an utter achievement in melody. The riff that runs throughout this entire track, and the mileage that Dawson manages to get out of it, is a wonderful thing to behold. It manages to catch the extremes of bittersweetness, equal parts despondent and hopeful. There’s a moment of pure bliss halfway through the song when it’s played on a lone synthesiser - then the rest of the instrumentation bleeds through. The song just sounds so alive in a way that’s sometimes hard to find in this genre, and it’s such a treat to listen to.
It’s followed up by Gratitude Meditation, a ten-minute beast that goes through the entire playbook of what we’ve heard so far. Of course, there’s half a dozen incredible riffs that underline their respective chunks of the song, but there’s a new trick here - a drone section halfway through, introducing this tension you could easily cut with a knife, until soft guitar strums tide us over until the big finale. The guitars make their presence known immediately, signalling that song isn’t quite done with you yet, going into uncharacteristically high-tempo blast beats for what we’ve heard so far. There’s this massive crescendo as Dawson lets out one final growl, and then relative silence, just the stagnant air and the odd bit of movement to send it out. The album ends with Goodbye (I’ve Left It Open), a synth-driven funeral dirge, and a particularly ominous note to end on.
GENITAL SHAME’s second album shows Erin Dawson pulling more surprises from her bag of tricks, pushing depressive black metal as a genre even further in the process. Of course, some tracks manage this more than others, but even so, it’s an extremely singular album. There’s so many ideas in here that make for a truly refreshing experience. Perhaps it will leave some listeners scratching their heads in places, but we implore you to stick with it - it’s an extremely rewarding album that reveals itself to you more than most will.
Score: 8/10
Wellness Plan will be released on 30th October 2026 via The Flenser.
Words: Noise Leonard
Photos: Genital Shame
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