| Isis--Wavering Radiant |
| Written by Todd Sexglasses |
|
Todd Sexglasses admits his obsession for the new Isis album while admitting his chronic noise-disturbance issues. Isis' Wavering Radiant offers pleasing mix of cerebral and artistic post-metalSince Isis' groundbreaking transformation on 2002's Oceanic the band has gradually built a repertoire of sounds which exhausts the post-metal genre, reaching out equally to closely allied genres like slowcore and to the far flung sonic territories of drone-, psyche-, and prog- rock. The sensitivity with which new timbres and microrhythms accumulate into seething and pulsing masterpieces of the mind may irritate the average metal fan, who may justly hope for shredding guitar turned to eleven, brutally delivered vocals, and relentlessly pounding drums. But that hasn't really been Isis' style. Instead, they offer a dark and dense atmosphere that somehow seems sublime and massive even when the mix is dominated by delicate and cleanly processed guitars, swelling vintage keyboard sounds, and sensible contemporary electronic production. Surely, impressively growling vocals and conventionally crunching guitar punctuation stake out Isis' territory in creative metal music, which may be a relief to those disappointed by 2006's somewhat more low-key In The Absence of Truth, but for every difficult-to-decode growl, Aaron Turner delivers a few lines in his distinct quiet melodic chant that remind you that this isn't your daddy's metal music. The transitions between the two styles of vocal delivery adds significant drama to the elusive lyrical content, which although perhaps not as striking as the profoundly Freudian incest-and-suicide plot of Oceanic, nor as heady as the seemingly discordian themes of In the Absence of Truth, certainly give one a lot to reflect on. That is, so long as one is interested in metaphysics: if the album has a concept, it centers on the revelation of a messianic serpent and includes an apocalyptic finale. Even after obsessively listening to the album 20-plus times in the last week, it is difficult to separate the tracks and pick favorites -- like their earlier efforts, the album is probably better than the sum of its parts. Which isn't to say that the album is boring; something that might be fairly said of bands like Pelican who meet the same criteria. There is a lot to hear here, starting with the 8 minute opener "Hall of the Dead," which opens with an uncharacteristically double-time guitar riff and closes with a minute-long droning transition sure to please fans who liked Tim Hecker's contribution to 2006's Oceanic: Remixes & Interpretations album. The most accessible track for indie rock radio listeners may be “Hand of the Host,” which features a very well-crafted bridge figure about three and a half minutes in, but has a somewhat distracting Pink Floyd-esque guitar solo soon thereafter. The title track is an instrumental transition that would make great bed music for a DJ's on-air comments but hardly stands on its own as a composition. Although there are several more friendly tracks, the astoundingly well-crafted "20 minutes/40 years" stands out as a top pick. Opening with a noodley guitar line and some squeaking sounds of extra-thick pick across wound strings through some ungodly effects, this track surprises with its aggressive growling first vocals, "Tendrils extend/from the glaring blackness," before quickly transitioning to the beautifully understated delivery of the album's highlight lyrics: They steal in, inside through the ones and zeros Prophecy of collapse unfolds Last grains of sand spiral down the hole Chance has graced me with a gift Rest that cold me from the dark descent Sun beats down in hailing rays In this time of anything Then, about four minutes in, drummer Aaron Harris starts a shuffling drum figure, accompanied by Bryant Clifford Meyers' (of Red Sparrowes) swelling keyboards, gradually building to a crescendo of thundering drum chops and brutal vocal delivery in the track's concluding two minutes. Again, I'm not sure how well the tracks on this album stand on their own, but in the context of the whole, "20 minutes/40 years" makes for an absolutely stellar climax. Isis may be something of a younger brother to Neurosis, but in the last decade they have grown up significantly. Out of sounds first explored by diversely heavy bands like Neurosis, the Melvins, Swans, and Throbbing Gristle, they have added a bit of King Crimson, perhaps as pre-digested and spit into their mouths by mainstream prog-metal band Tool (who Isis supported on the 10,000 Days tour, and members of whom collaborated both on Wavering Radiant and 2004's Panopticon), perhaps a touch of Mogwai (with whom they have also toured), and a substantial dose of their own hypnotic aesthetic, creating in the process something sure to stand the test of time and worthy both of lonely close attention on the headphones and late night, high-volume exposure to the whole neighborhood on your roommate's high-fidelity stereo equipment. Fair warning, however, your neighbors are likely to avoid eye contact in the morning after such an unconventional-sounding sonic disturbance. 4 out of 5 Wooves |
