Review: A Swarm Of The Sun ‘An Empire’
I recently read a piece by Doctor of Audiology Sol Marghzar discussing the effects of sound on human emotion. Without trying to reduce the presentation from someone far more articulate on the subject than I, he explains how subjectively sonic ‘brands’ resonate in a meaningful way that not only taps into our emotions but also takes root in our belief system, drawing us to be compelled towards a sound that triggers something beyond mere emotion.
It is this undefinable quality that Swedish duo Erik Nilsson and Jakob Berglund have captured and explored through their immersive and cinematic brand of post-rock under the banner of A Swarm Of The Sun. Since 2010, through a series of groundbreaking albums, debut Zenith (2010), statement piece The Rifts (2015), and the bleak The Woods (2017) they have forged a path in the heavy genre with bleak, sparse, melancholy.
Their roots in feelings of isolation, despair, and misery will be too much (well, too little in truth with the glacial, minimalist nature of their offerings) for some, but they have proved to be passionate triggers for others. The hefty gravitational pull of the sombre dissection found in their output was plotted carefully to channel these themes and commentary on the psyche; but having returned to action in a world that has irreparably changed during the last seven years Nilsson and Berglund scrapped these rules in favour of creating something different, more spontaneous in the writing process, to explore the deepest lyrical depths to try and find some hope and tenderness.
An Empire is a six-track, one-hour-plus journey that continues the narrative arc of The Woods and in six movements tries to reflect the uncertainty of the times we now occupy. Featuring previous collaborators such as Karl Daniel Lidén (drums, mixing/mastering), Anders Carlström (bass), Minna Larsson Heimo (pipe-organ), they have also fleshed out the sound further with Vilhelm Weréen on trombone.
Opening with the soft, pondering notes of This Will End In Fire, A Swarm Of The Sun starts their fourth full length at a snail’s pace, the echoing joined by a low hum of the pipe organ. Eventually, Berglund’s soft, hesitant vocals, almost spoken, talk of the end not being far, burning all the words before the music swells with mournful, weeping beauty. As the track progresses with a droning reverb that resembles a cathedral-like atmosphere, this doom-style, starkness sets the tone for the album, the quiet intensity soaking in as the moments drift by rather than delivering a striking blow.
Heathen, at over twelve minutes, takes this up a notch as the warm piano, a hint of the tenderness and light the band were trying to capture, feels almost comforting in the cold vulnerability. Using ticking clocks as percussion is a subtlety that provides a different texture to the electronic humming that fills out the background and thematically speaks to the inevitable march of time. This layered build and granular weight is crushing like the works of Michael Gira, Jesu or Pelican where the subtlety creeps up almost subconsciously. When the vocals start halfway through, breathy and abstract, against the grinding quality, it is at once tender and full of dread as the track morphs into heavier, clashing drums and a jarring dissolve into something towering and powerful.
As a cinematic experience, it rivals some of the best things I have heard all year…
The longest track on the album, The Pyre, is an eighteen-plus minute sprawling centrepiece that begins with an ethereal loneliness. The stripped-back piano, with lingering single notes, provides a soundtrack to Berglund’s faltering and emotional vocals as he hoarsely talks of the painful insecurities that haunt him. The switch to the striking smash of the band at full power happens so fast that it is jolting and showcases how intricately they have crafted their sound to maximise the impact; the feeling is at once somehow uplifting and yet devastating.
The second half is a raging slab of post-metal fury that churns and rages. The riffs, cycling in loops, build to the point of breaking before the band veers off into patterns that echo with repetition but change with nuances that are barely detectable until you realise that things have transposed. As a cinematic experience, it rivals some of the best things I have heard all year.
The title track, An Empire, calls back to the previous movement, The Pyre, with a similar start, Berglund states ‘free from it all’ as the suffocating atmosphere feels more oppressive than the thunderous menace of the band at full flight. As the music surges, it creaks and groans with the strings and synth straining under the overbearing weight until you can bear no more before lapsing back into the stillness of the beginning.
The Burning Wall sees A Swarm Of The Sun at their most urgent. Insistent drumming, much more frenetic and varied strikes underneath the dramatic chords before the crushing opening lyrics of I know ‘I know I failed you, I know that I run’ begin the most distilled entry. The bright notes contrast with the gut punch of the bass and drums as the tumulus build from lush synths to ringing thrashes becomes all-consuming.
The grand finale of Anthem is an exercise in exhaustive, blissful dynamics. The second eighteen-minute track of An Empire is a dense affair that immerses the listener in sensory overload. Drifting from the quiet beginnings they never scale the heavier heights of their arsenal but flow through the powerful and ominous ambience. The minimalist vocals which include lines like ‘I sing this for the day, when all of this is pure’ brings hope in the growing darkness, and demonstrate the impact of restraint, as does the music when they finally open up and relieve the pressure.
I opened by talking about musical theoretics and brands because the fact is that An Empire will pass some by due to the nature of the majestic audio landscape they create. For fans of their slow-burning immersive style, this release is like manna from heaven.
Label: Pelagic Records
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Spotify | Instagram
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
