9:03am
00:00:00
Press the
Play button, and settle in.
Not much
going on yet – just one continuous feedback loop, scattered with a few
different tones of drones and the odd jittery cymbal crash. Are they still
tuning?
Could do
without the piercing feedback wail around 1:45:00…still going…
Apparently
this is just the intro, which is fair enough. Given that the song itself
stretches for so fucking long, I suppose it isn’t entirely out of order to have
a 2.5 hour “intro,” though if I hadn’t signed up for this there’s no way in
hell I’d voluntarily listen to this much purposeless noise (and I like noise!). Maybe I should have smoked
some weed or gobbled a few mushrooms to heighten the experience?
2:35:00 –
rumblings. Something’s coming.
2:35:30 – A
RIFF! Smothered in layers upon layers of distortion and utterly glacial, but a
riff nonetheless. I am enchanted. What fresh delight? A drum beat? Praise be!
This sounds dangerously close to what is colloquially known as a “song” now.
And just
like that, the most useless drone twaddle imaginable has heaved its way into
infinitely more interesting funeral doom country. This, I like. Suppose they’ll
be doing this for awhile, then.
Tempo
varies a teensy bit at 2:44:00, then again around 2:50:00…I’m beginning to think
that it might not be worth analyzing every few minutes, though. Sabazius are
going for the big picture here. Right now, they’re stood firmly in the droning,
minimalist, slower-than-slow funeral doom camp. No sign of vocals yet. That
drummer is pummeling those skins for dear life, though – raw power on display.
Wonder how noodly his arms will feel after another six hours…
This shit
makes Wormphlegm look like Nicki Minaj.
3:23:00
I spaced
out and just noticed that the track is a little different! Pulsing alien drones
lurking beneath the lackadaisical cymbal crashes have replaced the guitar…I
think?
Oh, it’s
back now. There’s a detectable melody bleeding through, with a little whiff of
bluesy swagger, even! I can imagine exactly what the guitarist looks like right
now – hunched over his instrument, fingers methodically downstroking, hair in
his face, blank-eyed concentration on his reddened face. Probably the same as
he looks when they play this shit live. Will they play this shit live? Dear
god, that’s a scary thought.
This is
cool, though. I dig this. I could probably listen to this for the next seven
hours, especially now that they’ve brought the drums back to the party. This is
pretty standard droney doomy stonery stuff, honestly – there is just so MUCH of
it. It’s like the distilled spirit of a thousand really stoned Roadburn
attendees.
3:39:00
They’ve
gone silent. Are they okay? At this point in our relationship, I feel a sort of
maternal concern for them. Maybe they’d like some tea.
3:40:00
Alright
then, the drones are back. Spaceship noises, set to “bore.”
4:08:00
Still
droning. Drone drone droning. Stopped for a minute and my heart leaped, but
here we are
again. Bobbing in and out of silence, which is a welcome change at least.
Oh good, more
wretched feedback. I don’t even know who I am anymore.
But – hark!
What’s this? A riff? Salvation!
More
molasses trapped in amber, but a riff nonetheless. There is motion. There is
life. For awhile there I thought they’d collapsed onto their amps.
4:40:00
Forgot this
was on, until those hideous feedback shrieks came squealing out of the abyss to
bogart my happiness.
5:00:00
Time is
melting into itself. Hour five? Hour fifteen? Who even knows anymore. The
purpose of this release is to disorient – to “induce an altered state
of mind, create psychosis”
according to Dig. I’ll
bloody give them that. I’d saw off my arm for a blastbeat right now.
Riffs
abate…ambient noise abounds. High-pitched drones, whining in the dark. Strange
sounds percolating underneath.
5:04:00
OMG VOCALS
5:05:00
VOCALS
AGAIN! Well really more like a sort of forceful huff, but it was a human voice
and I think I might weep from joy.
5:06:00
VOCAAAAALS!
I think there was a word that time!
5:08:00
Now they’re
just taking the piss. Stop shouting at me in 45 second intervals.
5:10:00
Or not.
5:26:00
Okay, I get
it, You like feedback. You like Sunn 0))) and Burning Witch and Swans and I DO
NOT LIKE YOU ANYMORE.
5:35:00
Feedbackfeedbackfeedback
dronedronedrone don’t you guys have somewhere to be? My gutters need clearing
out.
5:36:22
Thud. YEAH!
Riff! Back to the ambient swirls, let’s have some more of that, boys – the
stuff you were throwing down a few hours ago was ace.
5:48:00
Coming up
on six hours. So far, I’ve counted one riff, that occasionally masqueraded as
another one and tricked me thanks to my rapidly deteriorating ability to
distinguish reality from Dante’s seventh circle of hell. We’re back to the
feedback thing now, though. Lord have mercy.
5:55:00
Oh hey,
they went back into playing music again when I wasn’t looking! Cheeky. We’re
doing the crushing, repetitive riff in tandem with brutally slow power drums
routine again, and it sounds fucking heavenly by now. Maybe that’s what
Sabazius are doing – surrounding their perfectly serviceable doom song
fragments with acres and acres of impossible distortion and noise to make said
fragments seem like aural ambrosia from the gods’ fingertips in comparison. I’m
on to you, lads.
6:05:55
This part’s
pretty good, actually. Back to the vaguely bluesy chord progression from
FUCKING HOURS ago. Head nodding involuntarily. Is this what Stockholm Syndrome
is like?
6:16:22
This might
be the longest, slowest, most drawn out, and least brutal breakdown in the
history of music. Emmure is not stoked.
Downstroke-downstroke-cymbal
crash. Over and over. THAT’S NOT A SONG YOU DICKS.
6:24:00
Hang on,
this is alright. Mixing things up with a nice buzzy little riff, jumpy rums,
distortion is a given but here it makes sense. I can even hear a bass thrumping
away underneath. This is a totally solid droney doomy stonery song. Can we just
do this for awhile, lads? I need a break.
6:31:00
Audio
collapse. Everything’s fallen off, the song’s disappeared, it’s all silence and
squeaky, record-scratch barks of noise then – no, it’s can’t be…more FUCKING
feedback.
6:39:00
If Sunn 0))) and Dick
Dale had a really ugly baby, that’s what this weird slide riff would beat up on
the playground.
6:40:00
Almost to the seven
hour mark. Feedback reigns. Crucial Blast catalogue on blast. Burning Witch
crumbling in the ashes. My eardrums ache. Pure, high bells of feedback
soar…then stop.
Gentle strumming
echoes faintly. Glorious respite. Neil Young and Earth and lovely chords, what
is this? Slick strings, resonant, contemplative riffs, standing alone. Sweat
drips down the guitar neck, lubing up the tired steel. This really reminds me
of that one Earth record they put out a few years ago, The Bees something
something. It’s a murkier, malevolent imagining of that same Americana-tinged
drone. Please don’t stop.
6:42:00
It was all a
beautiful dream. Collapse. Resurrect. Bleed out. Feed back. Drone.
Cruel, piercing
squeals cut above the drones, and garbled noise takes over.
6:52:00
Delving back into the
rare beauty of the Earth-worship of a few aeons ago. I am thankful.
7:05:26
Finally, it makes
sense. The Earth-inspired delicacy and light tones melt into the buzzing,
slowly percolating drones, distortion embellishing and embracing the
staggeringly simplistic riff with its crown of effects.
And the clarion call
returns, screaming wildly like an out of tune jazz trumpeter, punishing me for
my insolence, for daring to believe that there was a point to any of this.
And silence.
7:09:00
Rise of the machines.
Quietly, purposefully chugging, industrial haze. Imperceptible rise and fall of
the drones. Are they coming for me? I know they are. They taunt me.
Tribal beats. Phantom
hands clapping, beating the talking drums. They promise nothing.
7:32:28
Slow, sad, almost
funereal beats complement the muted guitar; there’s a riff buried in there
somewhere, if only just. This is standard funeral doom/drone stuff right here.
It’s comfortingly familiar. The relief is palpable. So quiet. I fear the worst
lies ahead. A lone drum beats a glacial tattoo.
And silence. Or?
The drums return.
That fucking crash cymbal is my Judas. Back to the extended, slothful drum
solo. You sound like a bootleg Protools plugin. How I loathe thee.
7:44:56
Scraps of melody bob
to the surface. There’s a plan here. Flesh hangs off the skeleton, binding its
sinews onto white. Perky little fuzzbomb riff, slowed down to -666 miles per
hour, calms the drums. Perfectly reasonable drone song. Digging the chirpy
little echoes.
7:55:45
And silence.
Then…a murmur. An
unnamed beast growling in its dreams.
And silence.
Slight, melancholy
drones (drones drones drones always drones) simmer.
8:19:40
Slap down those
beats. Strum that guitar. Churn out those churny riffs. Thrum that bass.
8:30:00
VOCALS! Yelling
words! The sheer novelty of it’s got me all aflutter. Fuck knows what he’s
shouting about all hoarse-like, but it must be important enough to warrant
inclusion in this horrorshow.
Not for long, though;
mustn’t let me get too comfortable.
Back to the
minimalist “thud-thud” drum+repetitious fuzz riff thing.
How in the name of
all things unholy are they still standing?
Unless they’re all
flopped over onto a couch or something.
That nice little
bluesy riff is back again. Hello, old friend.
9:04:45
They’re playing
around a bit. That steady droned riff is still there. Nothing new to report.
Back on the wagon.
9:16:00
Yo, FUCK that blaring
note that doesn’t ever end and instead multiplies into a dead clown’s chorus of
little blaring notes and coils around itself and laughing spreads its wings.
Back to the drones.
This is cold, clear, brittle – a winter’s day of a lingering note. I don’t care
how much distortion you pile on after two minutes, my ears hurt – and you just
did it again!!
And now it’s a drone
song again. There is a little more going on now, but not much. I’m cautiously
optimistic.
This is almost doom
by now. Warm memories of Electric Wizard and Saint Vitus wash over me. I wish
this sounded like “Dying Inside,” because I am.
This riff is like the
most achingly slow, joyless rendition of “Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum” ever
recorded by mortals. Now that I’ve typed
that out I can’t get the thought out of my head. This riff is dead to me.
9:51:24
That same fucking
riff from seven hours ago. This same fucking song. I have nothing new to say.
10:03:10
THAT SAME FUCKING
RIFF, just chugging merrily along like it hasn’t got a care in the world. What
is that new noise? There’s a new noise. SOS
10:21:26
I’m out of words.
10:22:00
Loud angry fuzz. Wet
cats.
Intensity building.
Swans? A neutered
Godflesh? Words fail me.
10:44:46
I’m so close to the
end now that literally nothing could inspire any sort of energy or criticism.
They are still playing that fucking riff. I hope they’re having a wonderful
time.
Quiet drone,
endlessly looping.
Silence.
Drone.
Silence.
Drone…
Drone…
11:16:54
Collapse. Finality.
Freedom.
