Lustmord
Other

Dear Brian 'Lustmord' Williams has not indulged in daring experiments for quite some time: maybe it's the thirty years of career behind him, or perhaps it's his unmistakable dark ambient style which, album after album, becomes increasingly difficult and heavy to shape and manage without repeating oneself; be that as it may, faced with the risk of a severe decline in inspiration, the artist has decided to shed his somewhat misanthropic attitude and rely on some significant collaborations: this enigmatic “[OTHER]”, released in 2008, boasts a robust musicianship, made up of Adam Jones from Tool, Aaron Turner from Isis, Buzz Osborne from Melvins (with whom he had previously collaborated), and finally Paul Haslinger from Tangerine Dream; certainly not second-rate people.

All the credentials are there, then. The result a little less.

Lustmord prefers to open the gates of his cryptic and unhealthy world alone through the menacing and twisted “Testament”: nothing new under the sun (also because there's very little sun), just him, in all his greatness. Unlike the previous “Juggernaut”, “[OTHER]” immediately presents much more fragmented and multifaceted sounds, which can be noticed with the grinding “Element”, a macabre emptying into the void that very much recalls the introverted feeling of “Carbon/Core”. Aaron Turner is a bit like the cherry on the cake, raising vague and disturbing sound walls, prelude to the immense “Godeater”.

The latter, exhausting in its 22 minutes, does not present particular evolutions: the slow progression of hypnotic and oceanic drones is occasionally scratched, corroded by the solitary arpeggios of Adam Jones' guitar. A muddy and underwater nightmare that never takes shape, a serpent you can't manage to grab by the head. And, perhaps, due to its formal incompleteness, it is a rather heavy brick to swallow at first bite. This flaw is probably the main issue of the album: if in most of Lustmord's past works the impeccable form was the main exploit that kept even the longest track composed and “digestible”, in “[OTHER]” some tracks seem to be architected too ineffectively.

Whether it is the consequence of a lack of inspiration or a well-considered choice doesn’t matter much; it nonetheless creates a certain difficulty of comprehension in listening. In fact, I still struggle to understand the meaning of a track like “Dark Awakening”: a haze of dissonant and awkward guitar work (by Adam Jones) drags on for a few minutes only to culminate in paranoid silence, covered by a weak network of effects. An unwieldy, anomalous, and too hermetic track. But who can say, maybe Lustmord just changed his approach and I'm a fool for not following him.

Anyway, the rest of the album proceeds with ups and downs: while “Ash” in its concise duration is too rarefied but overall endowed with an evocative underground and metropolitan atmosphere, “Of Eons” induces nine minutes of yawns, given the annoying absence of a defined atmosphere and the superficial management of the effects. “Prime [Aversion]” is no better; aside from saying nothing new, the little it manages to infuse dissolves in its exasperating length. Thankfully “Er Ub Us” distances the situation a bit from the brink, just enough to conclude an album that’s half successful.

“[OTHER]” probably embodies the most visceral and twisted spirit of Lustmord’s art. It undoubtedly contains excellent episodes, especially thanks to the guests’ contributions, but it's a shame that these positive aspects are buried by the album's second half, thus leaving a sense of emptiness and indifference at the end of the exhausting 78 minutes. Even after having assimilated it through repeated and crucial listens, the rating cannot go beyond mere sufficiency; and let's hope Brian doesn't concoct much worse mishaps.

"There are some things that should remain unseen..."