MEGAFAUNA - Venator (Review)

Written by: The Administrator

I grew up in a very rural area. Heavily forested and lushly dark, depressive, lonely. As such, I can assert that any creepy tale you've heard about stuff that happens in the woods at night is almost certainly true. There is something in the woods. There is always something in the woods. Indeed, to reiterate:

ţ̸̧̨͈̤̞̦̻͛̋̀̀̎̐̃͜h̴̡̬̖̻̽̋̇͊̄͠ẻ̶̲̻̟̣̙̓͆̏͋̇͒͆̚r̴̪͛͆̓͂̀e̷͔͉̹̼̪͖̬̘̳̋̐͊ ̷̘͓̅̓̈̎̓̌̽̓ỉ̶̜̰̻̮͈͐͌̈̅͘̕ś̷̩̘̤̝̭͎̜͕̪̐̂ͅ ̷̟͔̞̊̀̓͜͝͝s̸̺̭̪͊̓͒̈̏̀͒̎ō̴̟̰̳̫̥͊̾̓̀̾͘͜m̷͕͖̜̥͙̮̟̮̥̩̱̐̒͂͠ĕ̵̹̍̎͊̀̍̕͠͝ẗ̶̢͕̠͎̥͕͈̲̝̓͒͜͜h̶͓̦̟̰͈̘̐̄̔͗̆̇̂̈͑͗͝ͅi̴̦͇͎͒̈́̋̿́̆͠ͅn̴̢͇͇̥̫͚̮͗͋͂̉͘̕͝g̷͍͑͗̈̓ ̶̬͚̪̗̺̽͊͂͠i̷̛͚̘͚͑͐̏̈́̑̕͠ņ̸̧̢̹̻̭̘̗̼̳̖̍̆̀̂̃́̿́̎̿̀ ̷̮̐͐̃̅̓̃̕̕͠ṱ̵͓̣͚͈͍̯̮̻̟̠̓̋́̍̀͌̓h̷͔̰̱̤̓̌ẻ̵̛̪͍̅͌̍͑ ̴̼̱̳̞͈̫̟͓̫̗͗͛͑w̶̯͌̈́̽̾͑̔̿̀̊̈̕ǒ̴͎͙̦̮̬̩̝̦͌́͛͋̈̇͊͜o̷͕̳̖͈̙̙̓̏d̶̢͙̹̝͍̜̜̃͒̔̾́s̴̫̘̻͈̹̤̼͕͖̋́͝


British Columbia's Megafauna understands this all too well, whether the woods are literal or figurative or combination of both. Megafauna's bandcamp page self-describes the project as "the soundtrack to your depressive episode." To get a little more specific, Venator was created "in various stages of exhaustion, mental illness, bursts of creativity, fear, anger, sadness, joy, nihilism and limited free time." It may not surprise you to learn, then, that Venator is not a light nor carefree listen. It is immersing and at times quite clever in its use of sound to convey emotion and command atmosphere. It captures some very particular feelings that are often very difficult--practically, emotionally--to illustrate.

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I wasn't sure what to expect jumping in, but Venator has a surprising amount going on from a sonic perspective. Speaking quite generally, Megafauna utilizes sparse synthy textures with a variety of punctuating percussive elements. Every track feels unique, however. Sharp and ugly screeches jab their way into some tracks. Plunky and plucky bleeps squirm into others, like unto a xylophone possessed. Pulsating dark electronica thumps. Jittering centipedal noises scurry. Claves-esque sounds click and clank amidst droning pitch-shifting soundscapes. There are vocal samples a-plenty, and reversed voices, and 90's era electronic hums, recalling a room lit only by the glow of a monitor connected to the world's slowest dialup. The juxtapositions are poignant. Take, for example, the throbbing anxiety of "F E A R A N D E X H A U S T I O N" paired with the more low-key following title track. 

Overall, this is a release driven by dark vibes and an unsettling air. Odd sonic inclusions aside, a suffocating ambience permeates. It is unabashedly weird and intense. Imagine the skin-crawling lights-off terror following illicit horror movie exposure when you're, say, an alarmingly anxious 5 year old. The house makes weird noises and every time you close your eyes, even to blink, the closet door fractionally opens further. Reminder: the house backs up the the state land. Hundred of acres of unkempt trails and swamps and witch hovels and cryptid campgrounds. Reminder: there is always something in the woods. Now something is almost certainly in the house. In your head. You can't sleep. Anyways, that's what Venator sounds like.

​The album works best as a complete listening experience. That said, there are some highlights where everything seems to align. I really like the uncomfortable urgency of "Emergency Alert," as well as the sheer creepiness of "Under the Gallows." One of my favorite tracks here, the uncomfortably entitled "I Can Feel My Bones," balances the elements in an fashion that feels particularly refined. A brief vocal sample leads into a pseudo-dreamy ambiance with hollow drums slowly swelling, retreating with the rip, and eventually cresting and crashing in. In another context, they might feel dancy, but here the percussion is unnerving. ​An increasingly eerie electronic squeal meanders across the top. Both the music and the track title feel uncomfortably introspective, and absolutely nail a terrible disassociation that paradoxically makes you hyperaware of your physicality. Speaking personally, I have a too-close relationship with anxiety and panic, and seldom do I hear music that articulates these real-life sensations so clearly. Not to say that listening to Megafauna makes me feel shitty--if anything, there's a certain warmth that comes witnessing the articulation of a very particular sensation. People often want to think of creation as inherently cathartic or therapeutic, but when there is something in the woods, simply finding a way to represent it is an exceedingly worthwhile endeavor.

I could keep going, but I'll end things here on account of an extremely relevant premiere situation occurring in several weeks. I want to spend my words wisely. In the meantime, there aren't currently any tracks available to stream, but leaving you all in the dark feels quite apropos. 

Megafauna - Venator will be released April 19th, 2024 via Syrup Moose Records. Preorder here!

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Megafauna can be found:
Bandcamp
Instagram