The second installment of My Epic’s two-EP project finds the group unleashing the catharsis that they spent Ultraviolet holding back. And once they let go, they don’t stop.
While Ultraviolet found the group restraining themselves, Violent finds them as heavy and unhinged as they’ve ever been.
After hearing My Epic’s name in the periphery of my awareness for years, the project that finally drew my attention was Ultraviolet, one half of a pair of EPs.
While their M.O. has always drawn heavily on experimentation, the Ultraviolet/Violence project finds them restricting themselves to specific elements of their palette.
Ultraviolet, the softer of the two, leans heavy into dream pop, electronica, and ambient post rock, without losing any of their edge.
In 1998, the Appleseed Cast released The End of the Ring Wars. It was a shockingly mature work for a debut, offering a stunning mix of pop punk hooks, post rock compositions, and hardcore energy.
But it’s especially more impressive when you realize that they’ve done so with an unparalleled consistency. Across their catalog, there are no lulls, no dips, no records that their fanbase would rather just ignore. In fact, if you get five Appleseed Cast fans together and ask for their favorite record, you might get five different answers, each with respectable arguments for their choice.
I say all of this to drive home an important statement.
The Fleeting Light of Impermanence might be their best ever.
It’s no secret that I have a very, very weak spot in my heart for music that blends metal’s punishing heaviness with unabashed prettiness. And the last few years (more specifically, ever since Sunbather brought further attention to the type of gorgeous metal that Alcest pioneered) scores of metal bands have been pushing into the dreamy lushness of shoegaze and post rock—and vice versa.
But few bands do it with the sort of shameless simplicity of Holy Fawn. And thus, few bands do it with as much success.
Over the last few years, I have found myself crossing paths with Colorado’s Comrades on a number of occasions. We’ve played the same festivals (they always have a much better time slot), they’ve played in my living room, and one occasion, I pretended to be on the road with them and Deathbreaker to get free Chick-Fil-A.
Yet for all of this familiarity, I am still astonished every time I get a chance to hear them play (especially in my living room). Their newest record is another genre-melding, heart-rending masterpiece that’s just as likely to fuel a mosh pit as a moment of quiet reflection.
The marriage of post rock and post hardcore shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. After all, the roots of each are closely intertwined: post rock godfathers Slint came out of the punk and hardcore scene of early 90s Kentucky. Unwed Sailor was founded out of the husk of Tooth & Nail post hardcore outfit Roadside Monument.
But still, when the horns and glockenspiels of “Aphelion” give way to screamed vocals and pounding chords, it’s a bit of a surprise. And as this record continues to weave between the purest forms of each genre, it doesn’t get any less unexpected.
If a mad scientist were to somehow map out my tastes and set about designing my ideal album to lure me into some sort of trap, on paper that siren’s call would sound a bit like “nautically themed sludge metal/shoegaze/post rock/indie rock hybrid.”
But playing through speakers, that idea is even more alluring—not unlike the diver toward the light of the giant angler fish on the cover, I cannot resist this record. I hadn’t even finished my initial listen before purchasing a copy.
One of the most common characteristics among post rock bands is the complete denial that they are a post rock band. Explosions in the Sky insists that they are “cinematic rock.” This Will Destroy You defiantly calls themselves “doomgaze.” Mogwai calls the term “lazy” and says they’re just experimental rock.
And Mono, from Japan, themselves sneer at the label, insisting that they are a neo-classical group.
But as pretentious as that might sound, Hymn to the Immortal Wind leaves no room for doubt. Continue reading
Twenty years is an awful long time for any band to stay together. It’s even longer for a band how has been criticized for remaking the same record over and over again.
But twenty years after releasing their stunning Young Team, Mogwai released their most essential record in over a decade.
Across their storied career, Mogwai have been no strangers to experimentation. Their sonic palette has stretched from cinematic post rock to Krautrock to heavy metal to indie rock.
But rarely do their experimentations last an entire record. But on 2014’s Rave Tapes, the Scottish post rock demigods decided to set aside their trademark bombast and spend an album practicing restraint.