There’s a phrase that gets tossed around sometimes: strange beast. And for the life of me, I can’t think of a better description of this record.
It’s as approachable as it is esoteric, as subdued as it is grandiose, as domestic as it is wild, as patient as it is frantic. It feels almost like a big huge fluffy bear-like beast that you want to snuggle up to, even though you know it might rip your head off.
Ever since I’ve discovered that screamo was an actual subgenre and not just what my mom calls any band with screaming (Thrice and Alcest have both bore the term), I’ve found it very difficult to find much screamo that I like. Bands like envy and Boneflower are gorgeous and cathartic in a way that hits me to my core, but most of the pioneers of the genre—Orchid, Saetia, pg.99, et al, have inspired an almost visceral rejection from my ears. As a relatable tweet once said, “scream fans will say, ‘this track is legendary’ then play the absolute worst song you’ve ever heard.”
But every once in a while, something will come out of that scene that blows me away. Don’t Think About Death, the long-awaited debut full length from Brighton UK’s Chalk Hands, definitely uses screamo’s conventions as a sonic center, but it uses that palette to create one of the most moving records I’ve heard yet this year.
For most of their career, Les Discrets has been intrinsically locked with Alcest.
Both projects are pioneers in the blackgaze scene. Les Discrets bandleader Fursy and Alcest mastermind Neige played in the supergroup Amesouers (Neige has also played bass for Les Discrets on certain tours). They even shared drummer Winterhalter—who also played in Amesouers.
But when Winterhalter decided to work full-time with Alcest, Les Discrets was left without a drummer. Instead of try to replace him to write more hard-hitting, epic metal, Fursy decided to use the opportunity to change gears. And while the resulting album is a major change from earlier albums, it maintains the same delicate and beautiful balance between darkness and hope.
Sometimes, it feels like I discovered Gates completely on accident.
I had never heard of them when I saw that they were touring with Thrice and La Dispute, two bands I love that sound absolutely nothing like Gates. I was intrigued by Wikipedia’s description of them as a post rock band, but that description clashed with the first few seconds of Parallel Lives, and it took a few other people clamoring about the record for me to revisit it in earnest.
Once I was enraptured by it, I took to searching for anything that gave me the same heart-rending mixture of indie, emo, and, yes, post rock. Their debut record, Bloom & Breathe was fine enough, but it felt far more like a Moving Mountains tribute than the band that would give me one of my favorite records of the last ten years.
So when Here and Now was released, it was one of the fastest instant-buys I can remember. And that paid off. These six songs don’t just satisfy the craving for more music like Parallel Lives—they exceed it.
As much as I love post metal, I won’t deny that the genre has no shortage of color-by-numbers acts that regurgitate the same few influences. I’ll admit, this isn’t always a dealbreaker for me. I’ve heard and enjoyed a number of albums that might as well have been subtitled “A Study in Russian Circles,” and even purchased a number of them—such is my hunger for heavy guitars and dark atmospheres.
With that in mind, when a post metal act releases something that looks beyond the scope of the overworked soil tilled up by Isis, Cult of Luna, and Russian Circles and replanted by just about every other band in the genre since, the results are truly fresh.
Take for instance Migration, the second full length from Kent, England’s Bossk. It draws enough from the conventions of post metal to pass the smell test, but it infuses those flavors with generous bits of seasoning from trip hop, industrial, and hardcore.
The results is one of the most inventive and rewarding post metal albums of the last few years.
Discovering music used to be so hard.
Usually, you were entirely reliant on the help of a tastemaker friend or a record store employee who had the time to sort through the silt to find the gold they’d pass on to you. Besides that, you could scour the websites of record labels you liked or study the liner notes of your favorite CDs to find what bands the bands you liked would work with. Then you’d take all of that to the P2P network that hadn’t been shut down or overrun with viruses yet and hope that the file you downloaded was properly labeled (it usually wasn’t).
These days, great music just falls in your lap, via the recommendation algorithms of your streaming service of choice and the endless stream of posts from likeminded music fans online. Or, in the case of Coastlands, the band might just start following you on TikTok and end up being super good.
One of the neat perks that comes from mingling around the DIY music scene is that sometimes, when you order something from friend’s label, they send you some freebies.
In this case, that would be when I wrote about Fashioner by In Parallel, my friend Bryan of Something Beautiful Records (and the podcast As the Story Grows), he asked if I had a copy of their debut, which he had put out, and offered to send me a copy. When that package came, it included this record from a band I had never heard of.
But believe me when I tell you: this is a true hidden gem.
Read more a yearofvinyl.com #eastghost #indierock #postpunk #postrock #vinyl
In the liner notes for We Can Create Our Own World, Deadhorse offers an inspiring, yet grave missive: we can create a new world, we can create new selves—but. We can only do that reconstruction after we have torn down the existing structures.
The album offers itself up as a sonic representation of that idea, and it is not found wanting.
At this point, Mogwai has had a long and illustrious career. They were pioneers of guitar-based post rock, laying the groundwork for hundreds of other bands. As the Love Continues, their tenth album (not including numerous soundtracks and EPs), was released on the 25th anniversary of their very first single.
But even with such an iconic tenure, there’s one thing that’s eluded them: mainstream commercial success. And while they’re not going to be headlining TRL any time soon, that changed this year when a Mogwai fans (including Elijah Wood) started a viral campaign to get their new album to the number one spot of the UK charts.
It worked, but not just because of celebrity endorsement. If ever there was a Mogwai album to peak the charts, it was this one, perfectly encapsulating everything the Glaswegian post rockers do best.
Across their prolific and celebrated career, Mogwai has managed to use their ability to twist music and mood to conjure up narratives that don’t need words to be understood. So naturally, a few filmmakers have come to the Scottish post rock godfathers to help them tell their own stories.
One of these was Mark Cousins, who brought the group on for his documentary Atomic, Living In Dread and Promise, which examined the enormous possibility for both prosperity and destruction that nuclear power brings.
I haven’t seen this documentary. I’m not sure I need to. What I do know is that this album manages to capture the awe and dread of the topic with such clarity that the film might be unnecessary.