Here's a rare occurrence 'round these parts: a music video premiere. And a 22 minute video at that! We don't just clean the cobwebs out of our decrepit theatre for anyone, however, so rest assured knowing that the spectacle before ye is well worth your while.
The track and video in question forms the entirety of Side B of Live Improvisations Vol. 1, the forthcoming, well, improvisational release from French anonymous genre-bending and convention-eschewing collective Non Serviam, out May 1st on the (always stellar) Trepanation Recordings. If you're already familiar with Non Serviam's prior work, "Improvisation 2. Take 1. Ce Qui Dure" doesn't stray too far from what you may be expecting. The whole affair is wrapped up in a distantly baroque swaddle, but the telltale hints of post-metal by way of doom by way of industrial by way of avant-garde are as present and impactful as always. The video itself features a series of seemingly disassociated locations and events--not a narrative per se, so much as juxtapositions that mirror the overall spirit and emotion of the particular moment.
But! Before I scare you away with my ramblings, we slumbering scribes highly recommend that you fire up "Improvisation 2. Take 1. Ce Qui Dure" post-haste. As always, we'll meet you on the other side.
Moonlow presents “apocalyptic noise poetry," and if that particular combination of descriptors wasn't what you were expecting to encounter today, join the club. This one-person artist in question writes music for fans of Current 93, Laurie Anderson, Crowhurst, A Forest of Stars, and Brian Eno--which, frankly, is an odd enough roster that an actual template isn't exactly apparent. The instrumentation is equal parts harsh and tranquil--a peaceful mediation routinely and unexpectedly beset by paralysis demons. The lyrics are spoken, whispered, and guttural fried with alternately tranquil and chaotic abandon. It's ritualistic, and enchanting, and....kind of scary. In a word: this is delightfully weird stuff.
Moonlow is the veritable poster-child of musical invention. Who Are You? is a strange and grand album, and "Day 3 (You Diminish Me)" is a prime representation of what lurks within. As such, the track before ye--and Who Are You? as a whole--is a wholly indescribable experience. Without further ado, then: listen for yourself!
While we Villagefolk are all-too-oft content to snooze whilst wrapped in the suffocating embrace of music's more extreme edges, a little diversification in the genre department can go a long way. I, for one, am a big fan of the murky and ill-defined worlds of dark ambient and experimental electronic--particularly when the artist in question plays with expectations in a, well, unexpected fashion.
Enter Emerson Sinclair--classically trained, but since described as "quietly metal as fuck,"--who combines seemingly incompatible elements of dark synth, rock, baroque, electronic, and traditional liturgical. Just the level of experimentation we needed to wake us from slumber. Needless to say, this combination of sounds and influences is a melding that is better witnessed than clumsily described. As such, we're happy and honored to premiere here today the music video for Emerson Sinclair "Singularity." This arresting track is the second single from the forthcoming Never Without The Pentagram, a split collaboration between the genre-melding artist featured here today, and cello-based black metal ensemble Hvile I Kaos.
Without further ado: check out the video below! We'll meet you on the other side.
Some time back, we slumbering scribes reviewed Continuance, the forthcoming full-length from Fermentor, San Diego's (presumably) finest instrumental death metal duo. After writing said review, I've kept the album in question in heavy rotation, and am honored to premiere a track here today within our humble halls--the raucous "Stage V."
By way of intro, I'll blatantly self-plagiarize: "Whereas most groups would be significantly hindered by the lack of bass, vocals, and other such (seemingly necessary) fluff, Fermentor give "scarcity" a fresh coat of paint...whether flitting over thrashy pastures, sliding into smoky jazz-lounge-from-hell apparel, or stomping over the line where the technicality and unpredictability hits a level of proficiency that practically qualifies it the mathcore leagues, Continuance qualifies as an unpredictable ride no matter how you slice it." Before we get too far into the analysis, however, I highly recommend you give "Stage V" a listen here:
As if to prove a point, nearly all of the aforementioned genre and sonic descriptors apply in the context of this track. While the bulk is defined by a distinctly thrashy forward momentum--indeed, that militaristic drumming and the balls-to-the-wall guitar wouldn't feel out of place with some Angelripper shrieks over the top--there's also a sense of nuance that permeates Fermentor's work. Halfway through, for example, we're treated to a groovy-yet-proggy riff that sounds something like, I dunno, Pantera briefly covering Primus? The outro, in contrast, leans into a bluesier motif, which stands adjacent to the ceaseless and furious percussion.
Of course, the lack of vocals creates, by necessity, an increased focus on the instrumentation that exists in the confines of Fermentor's world, and "Stage V" feels like a solid argument for why the band succeeds without the standard accouterments. Regardless of motifs on display from moment to moment, the technical adeptness of this dastardly duo is something to behold. Otherwise, there's a drive to this track that prevents stagnation--rather than just repeating the same riff over the course, they keep things pleasingly varied. Bottom line: if you're a fan of heavy music that strives to switch up the game and try something new in the face of genre convention, you'll undoubtedly find something to enjoy lurking herein.
Fermentor - Continuance will be released August 14th. You've still got some time before this bad boy is released, but in the meantime, you can spin "Stage V" above as many times as ye please.
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry.
What are ye