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Rating: The image chosen for the cover of the band’s eighth work already says it all: an endless construction of musical notes that never stops ascending, once again reaching very high peaks.
Perfect geometries, square, squared.
An album conceived during the dark lockdown; each member, isolated in their own home, created their part. Bass, guitar, and drums divided equally without overshadowing the other instruments. Then came the time to reunite, to meet again at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio studios. Helped in the final drafting by a giant in the production of these cathartic sounds: Kurt Ballou of Converge.
A compact album, compressed in its duration of under forty minutes.
The usual, yet still damn effective, instrumental Post-Metal that lives off contrasts, of opposites. A seesaw of silent moments yielding to a cyclonic, violent, and wild noise. And so I need merely to mention the just under two heart-wrenching, liquid, sad minutes of Ó Braonáin that fade into drift, leaving the corrosive step to the similar Black-Metal of Betrayal that becomes spectral Doom, with guitars saturated to the point of unimaginable muddy flood.
We return to dreaming with the concluding and rarefied Bloom where unusual acoustic notes take the lead... turning into enchanting, definitive twilight reverberations.
Russian Circles have triumphed again! One of my musical highlights of the year.
Ad Maiora.
Tracklist
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