KTL
KTL

Terrible. It's hard to find a more fitting definition to describe the sonic grip in which KTL squeezes us, yet another musical monster born from the perverse mind of Stephen O' Malley.

Misunderstood genius or comprehended fool? I no longer know what to think of a character like O' Malley, so much so that I find myself having serious difficulties in evaluating a musical miscarriage like this.

In doubt until the end about giving KTL a diplomatic "no vote," I actually venture to assign four decent stars: not so much for the courage (since it's been almost ten years since O' Malley has walked the same sonic shores), but for the intelligence with which they attempted to renew a discussion that seemed destined to run out over the course of one or two albums.

Written with the experimenter Peter Rehberg (better known as Pita, among the pioneers of glitch), this 2006 debut will certainly delight all fans of Sunn O))). And therefore, I add, the unhappiness of everyone else.

The meeting between two such different artists inevitably leads to a re-distribution of ingredients: on one side, the ultra-doom component that has characterized every release of Sunn O))) until today is softened; on the other side, venturing into the rugged paths of dark ambient and black metal, both soaked in the drone context of which O' Malley is undoubtedly one of the most credible flag-bearers.

Paradoxically, it all seems to make sense.

The two figures divide the tasks 50%: funereal ambient carpets and electronic manipulations by Rehberg; volume games, guitar strumming, and icy black metal riffs by O' Malley, for almost eighty minutes of stuff oscillating between nothing and annoying.

By the principle that the fruit never falls too far from the tree, in "KTL" we can easily find references to the Sunn O))) repertoire: the electronic carousels of "Flight of the Behemoth," the dark settings of "White1" and "White2," the clattering guitars of "Black One" find a synthesis here, enriched by the manipulative talent of an artist like Rehberg, which gives the concoction the experimental depth that made everyone fall in love with this album, even people beyond suspicion like the scribes of Blow Up (see the enthusiastic review that appeared in the magazine last year).

Seventy-seven minutes, six pieces, two (perhaps three) harmonic themes to embroider endlessly: these are the numbers, folks, there's no need for many illusions.

"Estrangled" leaves one indifferent at first, revealing itself with subsequent listens as the most appropriate episode of the set: a spectral keyboard chord stretching over twenty-five minutes, a slow descent into Nothingness, a droning nightmare "animated" by imperceptible synth fluctuations and the disfiguring creaks of O' Malley's improvised guitar. Sublime.

And then the colossal "Forest Floor," an exhausting suite divided into four "movements," where O' Malley's basement riffing reigns supreme, while Rehberg takes care of the refinements this time. Almost forty minutes in which Darkthrone seems to fall asleep on their instruments leaving the amplifiers on, while in the next room Rehberg strolls nonchalantly through such wreckage, assaulting his machines, making them spit out stinging effects, mechanical workshop electronics, scraping industrial loops.

Called to close the circle, the refreshing thirteen minutes of "Snow," another ambient exploration by Rehberg, whose sounds reconnect to the minimal moods perceived at the beginning.

Masterpiece or colossal crap? I don't know what to say, folks, it's certainly not music for everyone, nor for every moment. "KTL" is a journey into exaggeration, that's for sure, but it's not a provocation for its own sake. Once the initial disgust and perplexity have been overcome, helped by the right predisposition of mind, "KTL" will inevitably grow with listens, revealing its secrets, its mystical dimension, its nuances graspable only at excessive volumes (the powerful basses, the liquid synth digressions, the earthquake vibrations in the rare moments when the instruments meet and seem to communicate with each other among a platoon of sounds).

"KTL" thus reveals itself as a new dazzling reinterpretation of the "Sunn O))) thought," probably one of O' Malley's best performances ever, now a master of his means and perfectly mature in shaping his artistic visions; here more than ever at ease in blending his unmistakable taste for excess with a more cultured and refined context.

I don't know about you, but I drone myself...