A single track running for 39 minutes begins in ambient silences and plumes of drone suddenly reversing course in two minutes to a percussive noise machine. Bold, brash the boom crushes in this new release (4/30 official) on Moving Furniture Records (LP/CD/CS/DL) with Tartarus Records presented by the collaborative Dutch duo (trio, really) of Machinefabriek & Dead Neanderthals. Don’t let the cacophony fool you, there’s a steady beat to this atonal ruckus balanced by a sort of out-out-jazz. It’s not quite dark metal ambient, it sort of breaks genre altogether by being a balance of many things.
It’s something of a mournful and ritualistic symphony with a score of more highs than lows, that weaves a sound distinct from their individual meanderings, akin to say, the collaborative outfit Godspeed You Black Emperor. It’s awesome in scope, and I don’t mean as in Californian slang, this is big!
The room-filling swirls of gray smoky layers crash and expand, likely being something to see live, and maybe at some distance. With noise cancelling you’d still feel this in your knees. This is perhaps their third outing, and they have qualified and quantified an atmosphere of forensic breadth, and it really works to their advantage when they drop the volume and let the echoes just ooze (or melt as the title implies). The drumming most certainly becomes the focal point upfront, until a more subtle percussion, brass and synths are allowed and collectively nuanced. Though in this project, on this album, the warm lows and the ferocious highs somehow make sense of the bombast. They generate a current anchored in connecting the dots between their individual instrumental devices and project an ecstatic, searing light. When they coalesce their sound seems far less performative, and much more moody and atmospheric. Hold on to those moments of respite and they mimic the moments in reprieve, not dissimilar to our contemporary climate imbalances.