Extended works for bass saxophone from circular breathing maestro Colin Stetson on what is essentially his first proper solo album in a few years - a masterclass in growling, spirited drone dynamics deployed in an inimitable, instantly recognisable style of playing that’s presented here at it’s most meditative and terrifying.
Very much sounding like it’s being played at half speed, Stetson channels his experience working on contemporary horror films into scraped atmospheres of pure, absolute dread. Using his arsenal of reed instruments he makes unsettling, abstract sounds that bounce between steam-filled pipes, squealing strings and distant foghorns, commanding textures across two 20-minute compositions intended to sonically trace out an underground network of caves and lava pipes.
The subterranean theme is adroitly represented via buzzing reed sounds and reverberating wind tunnel gusts. 'Orthrus' is pure, visceral dread removed from any visual representation, Stetson is well versed in conjuring imagery with pure sound. At its best, it feels like Mica Levi's "Under The Skin" soundtrack reworked by Welsh dark ambient maestro Lustmord, but Stetson's ferocious performative elements give the music its own defined character.
'Cerberus' takes a different approach; operating in a mode that sounds as if it's enhanced by subtle analog synthesis to hypnotising effect - it doesn't sound a million miles away from Sunn O)))'s "Life Metal" or "Pyroclasts": unapologetically heavy but utilising an unexpected sonic palette.
The most chilling horror soundtracks are rarely the most bombastic - and much like François Tétaz's incredible score for Aussie grindhouse flick 'Wolf Creek’, Stetson here manages to fill the air with the most stifling dread imaginable - using the barest of ingredients. It’s a rich, absorbing, tense listen of the highest calibre - one of Stetson’s finest to date.
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Extended works for bass saxophone from circular breathing maestro Colin Stetson on what is essentially his first proper solo album in a few years - a masterclass in growling, spirited drone dynamics deployed in an inimitable, instantly recognisable style of playing that’s presented here at it’s most meditative and terrifying.
Very much sounding like it’s being played at half speed, Stetson channels his experience working on contemporary horror films into scraped atmospheres of pure, absolute dread. Using his arsenal of reed instruments he makes unsettling, abstract sounds that bounce between steam-filled pipes, squealing strings and distant foghorns, commanding textures across two 20-minute compositions intended to sonically trace out an underground network of caves and lava pipes.
The subterranean theme is adroitly represented via buzzing reed sounds and reverberating wind tunnel gusts. 'Orthrus' is pure, visceral dread removed from any visual representation, Stetson is well versed in conjuring imagery with pure sound. At its best, it feels like Mica Levi's "Under The Skin" soundtrack reworked by Welsh dark ambient maestro Lustmord, but Stetson's ferocious performative elements give the music its own defined character.
'Cerberus' takes a different approach; operating in a mode that sounds as if it's enhanced by subtle analog synthesis to hypnotising effect - it doesn't sound a million miles away from Sunn O)))'s "Life Metal" or "Pyroclasts": unapologetically heavy but utilising an unexpected sonic palette.
The most chilling horror soundtracks are rarely the most bombastic - and much like François Tétaz's incredible score for Aussie grindhouse flick 'Wolf Creek’, Stetson here manages to fill the air with the most stifling dread imaginable - using the barest of ingredients. It’s a rich, absorbing, tense listen of the highest calibre - one of Stetson’s finest to date.
Extended works for bass saxophone from circular breathing maestro Colin Stetson on what is essentially his first proper solo album in a few years - a masterclass in growling, spirited drone dynamics deployed in an inimitable, instantly recognisable style of playing that’s presented here at it’s most meditative and terrifying.
Very much sounding like it’s being played at half speed, Stetson channels his experience working on contemporary horror films into scraped atmospheres of pure, absolute dread. Using his arsenal of reed instruments he makes unsettling, abstract sounds that bounce between steam-filled pipes, squealing strings and distant foghorns, commanding textures across two 20-minute compositions intended to sonically trace out an underground network of caves and lava pipes.
The subterranean theme is adroitly represented via buzzing reed sounds and reverberating wind tunnel gusts. 'Orthrus' is pure, visceral dread removed from any visual representation, Stetson is well versed in conjuring imagery with pure sound. At its best, it feels like Mica Levi's "Under The Skin" soundtrack reworked by Welsh dark ambient maestro Lustmord, but Stetson's ferocious performative elements give the music its own defined character.
'Cerberus' takes a different approach; operating in a mode that sounds as if it's enhanced by subtle analog synthesis to hypnotising effect - it doesn't sound a million miles away from Sunn O)))'s "Life Metal" or "Pyroclasts": unapologetically heavy but utilising an unexpected sonic palette.
The most chilling horror soundtracks are rarely the most bombastic - and much like François Tétaz's incredible score for Aussie grindhouse flick 'Wolf Creek’, Stetson here manages to fill the air with the most stifling dread imaginable - using the barest of ingredients. It’s a rich, absorbing, tense listen of the highest calibre - one of Stetson’s finest to date.
Extended works for bass saxophone from circular breathing maestro Colin Stetson on what is essentially his first proper solo album in a few years - a masterclass in growling, spirited drone dynamics deployed in an inimitable, instantly recognisable style of playing that’s presented here at it’s most meditative and terrifying.
Very much sounding like it’s being played at half speed, Stetson channels his experience working on contemporary horror films into scraped atmospheres of pure, absolute dread. Using his arsenal of reed instruments he makes unsettling, abstract sounds that bounce between steam-filled pipes, squealing strings and distant foghorns, commanding textures across two 20-minute compositions intended to sonically trace out an underground network of caves and lava pipes.
The subterranean theme is adroitly represented via buzzing reed sounds and reverberating wind tunnel gusts. 'Orthrus' is pure, visceral dread removed from any visual representation, Stetson is well versed in conjuring imagery with pure sound. At its best, it feels like Mica Levi's "Under The Skin" soundtrack reworked by Welsh dark ambient maestro Lustmord, but Stetson's ferocious performative elements give the music its own defined character.
'Cerberus' takes a different approach; operating in a mode that sounds as if it's enhanced by subtle analog synthesis to hypnotising effect - it doesn't sound a million miles away from Sunn O)))'s "Life Metal" or "Pyroclasts": unapologetically heavy but utilising an unexpected sonic palette.
The most chilling horror soundtracks are rarely the most bombastic - and much like François Tétaz's incredible score for Aussie grindhouse flick 'Wolf Creek’, Stetson here manages to fill the air with the most stifling dread imaginable - using the barest of ingredients. It’s a rich, absorbing, tense listen of the highest calibre - one of Stetson’s finest to date.
Clear vinyl, comes in a matte laminate sleeve in metallic gold pantone and a printed inner sleeve, plus a download of the album dropped to your account.
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Extended works for bass saxophone from circular breathing maestro Colin Stetson on what is essentially his first proper solo album in a few years - a masterclass in growling, spirited drone dynamics deployed in an inimitable, instantly recognisable style of playing that’s presented here at it’s most meditative and terrifying.
Very much sounding like it’s being played at half speed, Stetson channels his experience working on contemporary horror films into scraped atmospheres of pure, absolute dread. Using his arsenal of reed instruments he makes unsettling, abstract sounds that bounce between steam-filled pipes, squealing strings and distant foghorns, commanding textures across two 20-minute compositions intended to sonically trace out an underground network of caves and lava pipes.
The subterranean theme is adroitly represented via buzzing reed sounds and reverberating wind tunnel gusts. 'Orthrus' is pure, visceral dread removed from any visual representation, Stetson is well versed in conjuring imagery with pure sound. At its best, it feels like Mica Levi's "Under The Skin" soundtrack reworked by Welsh dark ambient maestro Lustmord, but Stetson's ferocious performative elements give the music its own defined character.
'Cerberus' takes a different approach; operating in a mode that sounds as if it's enhanced by subtle analog synthesis to hypnotising effect - it doesn't sound a million miles away from Sunn O)))'s "Life Metal" or "Pyroclasts": unapologetically heavy but utilising an unexpected sonic palette.
The most chilling horror soundtracks are rarely the most bombastic - and much like François Tétaz's incredible score for Aussie grindhouse flick 'Wolf Creek’, Stetson here manages to fill the air with the most stifling dread imaginable - using the barest of ingredients. It’s a rich, absorbing, tense listen of the highest calibre - one of Stetson’s finest to date.