Written by: Ancient Hand
Eidolon: an idealized person or thing/a specter or phantom.
Given the occult and ghostly existence of the dungeon synth/ dark ambient project Old Tower, it is easy to assume the latter definition is the intended use of the word in the context of this album title. However, the incredible popularity of this project makes both definitions worthy of inspection. The final idealized proclamation/person, or the final specter? I would argue a combination of these is the most fitting way to interpret the title. The final idealized specter, whose records are resold on Discogs for insane upmarket values returns with a new full length, and this comes after the conclusion of the “Grim Alchemy” trilogy, a series of EPs that I was a massive fan of. My favorite dungeon synth material ever is easily the first EP in the trilogy, Drachenblut.
In terms of full lengths, this release is a follow-up to 2018’s Stellary Wisdom, an album that is my least favorite Old Tower material. Now, after releasing my least favorite and favorite material back to back, how does this new Old Tower record stack up?
Written by: Lichtmensch, Loveloth, and Ancient Hand
"But wait!" the haters said, sweating feverishly. "This is a metal review site! Get this pop crap out of here!" Needless to say, said haters are now....disposed of, and the Village is significantly quieter for it. Miss Anthropocene an album many of our writers enjoyed, and it is also hardly a stretch to justify Grimes' latest iteration as "heavy." On her long-awaited followup to 2015's revered Art Angels, Grimes pushes pop to a dark and ethereal place. Utilizing a healthy blend of sounds and genre aesthetics, Miss Anthropocene decries stagnation.
The Sleeping Village's cabal of scribes is a multifaceted lot, and when a Grimes review was proposed, three unique individuals--Lichstman, Loveloth, and Ancient Hand--were all excited to put in their two cents regarding Miss Anthropocene. In cases like these, where a frank and friendly discussion between friends seems more productive than a bunch of separate reviews, we break out a rare but ancient form of communication: the conversation. So, here it is: the long-belated followup edition of Twofold Treatise-- but, in this case, we're not dealing with two slumbering critics, but rather three. Hence: Threefold Treatise.
We provide thoughtful reviews of music that is heavy, gloomy...and loud enough to wake us from slumber. Written by a highfalutin peasantry!