Showing posts with label Lantlôs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lantlôs. Show all posts

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Lantlôs - Melting Sun (2014)

Although I had become decreasingly fond of Lantlôs over the course of Herbst's first three albums, Melting Sun is one of those records that offers me affirmation as to why I often stick with bands when I think they might have something hidden in there which has yet to surface. Granted, the last one I experienced (Agape) was more or less a creative coma of dull ideas. This project was by and large surfing on the trending wave of shoegaze oriented black metal expatriates, with nothing more to show for it than meeting the laws of supply & demand, to the point that Neige of the tragically overrated Alcest himself was involved, but it seems that after nearly a decade of gestation, Lantlôs has at long last settled into a comfort zone and begun to produce some quality assurance.

Disclaimer: this is so barely metal that I'd sooner just categorize it with the post, indie and space rock waves of the mid 90s, the black-tinted riffing progressions now a thing of the past, though you might pick out a few tremolo picked guitars or drudging chords which can frankly belong to a number of rock genres. But that's quite alright, because like its title hints, it provides this fulfilling, warm cycle of emotions which brings to mind Chicago abandon-rock darlings Hum from when they had a few singles 15-ish years ago, or perhaps more recognizably a few drop of Smashing Pumpkins' massive alterna-rock bleeding through. Solar flare drifts of brighter guitars careen across the vacuum of weighted chords, thick and juicy bass-lines pumping fresh blood through the glacial rhythmic veins which supply Melting Sun's circulation. Most of these tunes require a little patience for the payoff. Not to the point that they're truly time-consuming, and Herbst reins in the experience at around 40 minutes, but he takes his time in delivering the most heightened and passionate passages above the sailing, soothing strains of ambiance, progg-ish low-end lumps of bass and dreary yet uplifting vocals.

His voice is not exactly memorable, per se, but I think it fits the spaciousness of the music through some of the sustained passages; also helps 'ground' the songwriting aspirations with an everyman quality that sounds like any of your random middle aged neighbors going out to pick up the morning paper and then stopping to ponder a cloud, rainbow or some other unspeakable phenomena of the natural world. Gentler, ambient clean guitar passages and swelling backdrops ("Golden Mind" being a prime example) help round out some of the harder hitting, bulky guitar progressions, and Melting Sun never abandons its central ebb and flow of calm and crushing contrasts, star-tides radiated through the cosmos and soaked into the skins of the living. I would not deem this a massive stylistic departure from any of the previous records I've heard, but it seems handling all the instruments/vocals himself has resulted in more consistent, catchy fare that borders on poignancy, and while it's nothing intensely intellectual or amazing, I enjoyed listening to it...and coming from an individual who though the prior works were middling at best, I hope that means something.

Verdict: Win [7.25/10]

https://www.facebook.com/lantlos

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Lantlôs - Agape (2011)

If ennui were a muse, then surely Lantlôs were suckled to its cunt throughout the production of their third album, Agape, which is little more than a dissertation on how to lack even a shred of inspiration or riffing ability. This German-French collaboration was hardly one to write home about on their last two full-lengths, but there they have surpassed themselves to reach the summit of banal shoegazing post black metal which is wrought of such worthless characteristics that it stuns me anyone could enjoy it. Don't get me wrong: I listen to some Sonic Youth, Joy Division, Hum, My Bloody Valentine and so forth, and even a few of the sludgier post-metal acts that have also inspired this one (I hear a tinge of Neurosis and Isis, at the very least). I have no problem with bands exploring this avenue of sound. But Agape is as dry as a desert. Not emotionally draining, nor emotionally incandescent, nor really much of emotional anything. It's like watching a snail crawl across your boot, and feeling no impetus to either help it along or hasten its passage to the mollusk afterlife...

I wish I could blame Neige for this one, but really there doesn't seem to be anything he could do to fix it. For most of the proceedings, he drones along with the same vapid black rasp you hear in hundreds of other sludge and post-black outfits. There are points at which he goes into a cleaner vocal, and when this happens it's at a lower pitch, not the dreamier style he attempts on some of the Alcest material. Sure, none of the vocals here are even the slightest bit memorable, but had they at least been graced with a solid musical undercurrent, they would suffice. No, the fault here lies entirely with the writing of the music, which attempts to contrast itself between fits of tremendously derivative, uninspired riffing and tranquil, soothing passages where clean guitars pluck along with a lightness that equivocates to how much impact they have upon the listener. About the best I could say for the guitars on this album is that they clearly demonstrate a shift between cold, desolate minimalism and warmer, full-bodied streams of dissonance, but it's not praise when the note progressions are so void of musical value.

For instance, let's examine the first track, and the most swollen: "Intrauterin" opens with two minutes of swelling, ambient feedback before collapsing into this droning, dull riff which anchors itself on a bottom end chord and then some wailing, bending inanity. Then at about 4 and a half minutes in it changes completely to this transitive, clean passage with twinkling little acoustic stars and softly droning background tones in a higher pitch. I bring this up because it's possibly the one point on the promo that I did not want to delete. Neige applies some lower vocals to this in a fairly barren fixation, and then the highly predictable segue into slow tremolo shoegaze riff arrives on queue, with Neige picking up the intensity to his standard, grisly rasp. I feel like I just spent about 50 seconds wading in mediocre weightlessness and 9 more in the most boring aural environs imaginable, only vaguely adequate even as background noise.

Unfortunately, this is not just a one-off fluke. Agape does not improve the deeper you get into its infertile valleys. "Bliss" is a far heavier track in general with a steady substrate of simple chords smothered in harsh vocals and an empty melodic sheen, but despite its own breakdown toward tranquility it is 100% forgettable. "Bloody Lips and Paper Skin" has some appreciable backing ambiance, yet the first two minutes sound like a Sonic Youth sound check, if Thurston Moore plugged in and strummed the most unassuming series of notes and chords available, and the bass heavy, Hum-like core of the song is sadly no more climactic. "You Feel Like Memories" is the obligatory instrumental, and this one is all spacious, minimal clean guitars with a steady pump of bass and tinny percussion that drive it along to its aimless end. The finale, "Eribo - I Collect the Stars" is all big shining, crashing nothingness that fades out with a distorted bass drone, but I'll admit that the mid point with the melodic, bluesy arching 'lead' is probably one of the highlights, even if nothing is really happening...

And that is Agape in a nutshell. Nothing happens. Nothing of interest, anyway. I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out this was all improvisational, because most musicians I know can write more involved music than this in their sleep, regardless of their genre of expertise. I guess the point of such a thing as this album is to revel in its own misery, flirt with its own broad swath of emptiness, but in this case, nothing is rewarded to the listener, not even in a negative sense. Even at it's most climactic peaks of harried, atonal energy, the album seems as horizontal as a board. .Neon and their s/t debut at least showed a few signs of potential, but this feels as if all hope were truly lost, and that the musicians were just going to plug in and play whatever comes to mind without any concern for lasting quality. Hell, next to this album, other related acts like Alcest and Heretoir sound like virtual cornucopias of passion. Not the worst album I've heard, but certainly one of the biggest bummers of this year. Come on, snap out of it! You lot can do better than this.

Verdict: Fail [3/10]

http://www.lantlos.com/

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Lantlôs - .Neon (2010)

I'm sure my feelings on the most prominent of Neige's projects, Alcest, are already well documented somewhere out in the vast internet, but I've hardly got a hate on for anything else the guy has done. Amesoeurs wasn't all that shabby, and his earlier drumming for Peste Noire and Mortifera shouldn't be overlooked, but the man is hardly the savior of style and grace that many have lauded him to be, and I'm almost positive he'd agree. That said, the guy is enormously popular, so it's not a surprise the German Lantlôs, who run in similar circles of sound, would enlist the Frenchman to front their sophomore effort, the sequel to the well-received s/t album in 2008. His aggressive, tortured throat is perfect for the wall of sound, post-rock influences so fluent and important to the compositions here, and his cleans are actually a positive addition for this album's chilling, negative atmosphere.

Unfortunately, .Neon is one of the most perplexing albums I've come across lately in this entire field of post-black experimentation, because while it creates the skeleton of an amazing creature, the actual flesh upon the frame is wholly dull and numbing. I realize that is the intent of such a work, but I'm not referring to the emotional effect so much as I am to the notes and composition. Tranquil segues of drifting post-rock cycle into screaming patterns of melodic chords in "Pulse/Surreal", while some take it to the next level of Burzum and Weakling adoration, surges of streaming black metal vitriol still simmering with the weave of dreamy chords, as in "These Nights Were Ours". The resulting product is both Romantic and hostile, sincere and surreal, yet I just can't get over the fact that these guitars are not written in successful or memorable patterns, and thus I feel all too left out to dry.

Perhaps the one song where I felt a perfunctory momentum carrying me would be "Coma", but this is already pretty late on the album, and the following title track drags me straight back to the coma from which "Coma" ironically aroused me. The real shame is that, from a tempo standpoint, Lantlôs knows exactly when to shift to the fore and rear. The songs were crafted with some assurance that they would not drive the witness into cacophonous disinterest, but the blood and veins of the writing simply do not live up to the marrow upon which they are set into circulation. It's somewhat comparable to bands like Heretoir or Alcest, the latter being far more enamored of the tranquil side of the coin, but then, if you know me, then you know that's not really saying all that much. Lantlôs possess the structure for success, and obviously the personnel, but I feel that they need to dig in a little more in their writing process and really make those notes shine in patterns as hypnotic as they deserve.

Verdict: Indifference [5.75/10]
(a light pressure)

http://www.lantlos.com/