Dark dark noise that emanates slowly and rises like a black fog from the decaying anus of the mummified corpse of your cheating ex-lover. Locrian are among a growing scene of artists (Oakeater, Wolves in the Throne Room, Velnias and Nihilist, to name just a few) that represent a new wave in experimental black metal (although somewhat different in sound than the original Scandinavian genre) ambience from the States, in particular centred around wind-lashed Chicago, a city with a fine heritage of pushing the sonic boundaries.
This is Locrian’s first full length release (issued on cool UK label ‘At War With False Noise’) and contains over one hour’s worth of ritualistic electronic paganism. ‘Drenched Lands’ is a cerebral and sinisterly atmospheric blanket of sound that is punctuated with ugly scrapes of overdriven guitar, distorted screams, cymbal crashes, frazzled power electronics and whatever else the dark duo of Andre Foisy and Terence Hannum feel is necessary to summon demons.
Tracks like ‘Ghost Repeater’ and ‘Epicedium’ rise up on a filthy wash of belligerent throbbing electronica, whilst others like ‘Barren Temple Obscured By Contaminated Fogs’ scream and scrape with effects soaked guitar and wrenched howls of anguish. I love the start of ‘Obsolete Elegy in Vast Concrete’ – a single church bell peals ominously whilst dirty black feedback howls and whines like a Banshee in heat. Bizarrely, considering the post-industrial occult menace exuded here, ‘Drenched Lands’ is a rather relaxing listen. I think it’s because the dark electronic ambience is conducive to achieving a certain meditative state, a bit like drifting off whilst listening to the sound of a vacuum cleaner on full power. Locrian are Tangerine Dream cursed and blasted into Tartarus, only to emerge from the ground, rotting and evil, bent on visiting pain to humankind, through the deft manipulation of perverse electronics and cyclopean amplification. Hurrah!
Scribed by: Adam Stone