Genre: Ambient (well, kinda...)
Name: Ben Frost and Daniel Bjarnason
Album: Sólaris, 2011
Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated
Looking back, I realise that the tag I used on my last review, a quote from the EP in question, has perhaps taken on a slightly different tone from that which I intended. Between dealing with fascist regimes, and my training with NASA, I have been a little snowed under of late. Understandably, the (very) few regular viewers I have may have been a little miffed at my absence; in order to appease them, therefore, I'm going to give you three distinctly non-metal reviews in quick succession, because you hardcore doom and black metal fans will, of course, fall head over heels for ambient and shoegaze and the like.
Jesting aside, one of the aspects of this blog of which I am most proud is its diversity; aside from the central metal basis - the prog, the doom, the symphonic screaming spectres - there's been synthpop and soundtracks and alternative rock: basically, anything which I think offers direction for metalheads to broaden their horizons. Some may look upon that as a flaw, an attempt to spread itself too widely, but I am not aiming to be a Starbucks among music blogs, serving the same bland produce in vast quantities; there are plenty of people who are able to devote more time to the task than I, and have greater resources for it. Instead, I want to lead even a few of the leaden-headed multitude of which I, and the vast majority of you, are members, both onward to new, unknown lands, as well as unappreciated aspects of our own back yard.
To this end, I offer you all Ben Frost's latest output, Sólaris, "scored" with Daniel Bjarnason (upon whom I am, unfortunately, not able to comment). Although I have described it as ambient, that is, perhaps, a misnomer; do not for a moment think that I have simply found a long series of slow, barely-changing chords. Sólaris, while not fast-paced, does not truly fall into that category. Made up entirely of processed strings and piano, it is more minimalist than melancholy, but strangely entrancing for it. I suppose, if a comparison must be made, it is somewhere between the works of Philip Glass and My Dying Bride's Evinta.
As a result, it is hard to describe; there are no individual moments of musical ecstasy or beautiful lyrics (I finally understand that writing about music is like dancing about architecture). The best characterisation I can offer is that it is an entanglement of fluid harmonies, emotions strung together and blending seamlessly with each other, flowing in and out of a soundscape that is both beautiful and jarring.
For those of you turning up your nose (either at my Livy-like prose, or what it describes), I urge you to give this album a chance. Whilst it is hard to see on this album, Frost's other work (particularly By The Throat) has a distinct black metal influence. Unlike his other releases, there are no drums, no distorted guitars to shriek of; however, it is certainly there, a sort of unnerving undercurrent pulling at your skin. This is not music that leaves you sprightly and singing: it is introspective and steadily anxious. However, it is masterfully done. Frost is at the top of his game, and it is definitely worth your while.
Summary: Minimalist, unsettling, mysterious.
Rating: 7/10
Track listing:
1. We Don't Need Other Worlds, We Need Mirrors
2. Simulacra I
3. Simulacra II
4. Snow
5. Reyja
6. Cruel Miracles
7. Hydrogen Sulphide
8. Unbreakable Silence
9. You Mean More To Me Than Any Scientific Truth
10. Saccades
11. Venia
Download
Sunday 20 May 2012
Ben Frost - Sólaris
Genre: Ambient (well, kinda...)
Name: Ben Frost and Daniel Bjarnason
Album: Sólaris, 2011
Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated
Looking back, I realise that the tag I used on my last review, a quote from the EP in question, has perhaps taken on a slightly different tone from that which I intended. Between dealing with fascist regimes, and my training with NASA, I have been a little snowed under of late. Understandably, the (very) few regular viewers I have may have been a little miffed at my absence; in order to appease them, therefore, I'm going to give you three distinctly non-metal reviews in quick succession, because you hardcore doom and black metal fans will, of course, fall head over heels for ambient and shoegaze and the like.
Jesting aside, one of the aspects of this blog of which I am most proud is its diversity; aside from the central metal basis - the prog, the doom, the symphonic screaming spectres - there's been synthpop and soundtracks and alternative rock: basically, anything which I think offers direction for metalheads to broaden their horizons. Some may look upon that as a flaw, an attempt to spread itself too widely, but I am not aiming to be a Starbucks among music blogs, serving the same bland produce in vast quantities; there are plenty of people who are able to devote more time to the task than I, and have greater resources for it. Instead, I want to lead even a few of the leaden-headed multitude of which I, and the vast majority of you, are members, both onward to new, unknown lands, as well as unappreciated aspects of our own back yard.
To this end, I offer you all Ben Frost's latest output, Sólaris, "scored" with Daniel Bjarnason (upon whom I am, unfortunately, not able to comment). Although I have described it as ambient, that is, perhaps, a misnomer; do not for a moment think that I have simply found a long series of slow, barely-changing chords. Sólaris, while not fast-paced, does not truly fall into that category. Made up entirely of processed strings and piano, it is more minimalist than melancholy, but strangely entrancing for it. I suppose, if a comparison must be made, it is somewhere between the works of Philip Glass and My Dying Bride's Evinta.
As a result, it is hard to describe; there are no individual moments of musical ecstasy or beautiful lyrics (I finally understand that writing about music is like dancing about architecture). The best characterisation I can offer is that it is an entanglement of fluid harmonies, emotions strung together and blending seamlessly with each other, flowing in and out of a soundscape that is both beautiful and jarring.
For those of you turning up your nose (either at my Livy-like prose, or what it describes), I urge you to give this album a chance. Whilst it is hard to see on this album, Frost's other work (particularly By The Throat) has a distinct black metal influence. Unlike his other releases, there are no drums, no distorted guitars to shriek of; however, it is certainly there, a sort of unnerving undercurrent pulling at your skin. This is not music that leaves you sprightly and singing: it is introspective and steadily anxious. However, it is masterfully done. Frost is at the top of his game, and it is definitely worth your while.
Summary: Minimalist, unsettling, mysterious.
Rating: 7/10
Track listing:
1. We Don't Need Other Worlds, We Need Mirrors
2. Simulacra I
3. Simulacra II
4. Snow
5. Reyja
6. Cruel Miracles
7. Hydrogen Sulphide
8. Unbreakable Silence
9. You Mean More To Me Than Any Scientific Truth
10. Saccades
11. Venia
Download
Saturday 28 January 2012
My Dying Bride - The Barghest O'Whitby
Genre: Doom Metal
Name: My Dying Bride
Album: The Barghest O' Whitby
"I doubt I shall ever come back..."
It's true; I have been neglecting this blog. The last post was almost three months ago, and that was hardly standard fare for DkP. I can only offer my apologies; unfortunately, personal issues have had me waylaid from my usual musical fare. However, the skies are beginning to clear, and once again, I can return to the wonderful world of web-logging.
On that note, let me turn your attention to the subject at hand. My Dying Bride, lords of all things doom, have granted us all with another release. This EP, titled The Barghest O'Whitby, is a sharp contrast to their last output; Evinta, a 3-disc, 14-track, orchestral work could not be more different to a this 27-minute, traditional, magnificently metal work.
Musically, this work is excellent. Taylor-Steels' drumming is second-to-none; Abé's bass complements it magnificently. The guitar work is masterly yet melancholy, the harmonies as heartbreaking as they are heavy; showcasing Craigan and Glencross at their best. They combines with Macgowan's virtuoso-standard violin to create howling, haunting melodies, befitting the cold, blusterous north-English moors, upon which this tale is set. That tale is expressed in as dolorous a style as might be expected by Stainthorpe. His vocal work is exquisitely agonised, and lyrically, it is exceptionally well-written. All in all, it is a brilliant release, exactly what has come to be expected from My Dying Bride.
Summary: A doleful, doom-filled, heavy-as-hell EP for all metal fans out there.
Lyrical Themes: A Barghest
Rating: 8/10
Download
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