Review Summary: The distant sound is saying my name.
The Voids We All Long For is in sync with itself. Or, it tries to be. Musically, the latest release from Melbourne-based Lost Salt Blood Purges is remarkably stable given the elements at play. If
Voids is a spinning plate, each addition should run the risk of toppling it; however, it keeps turning, as though Purges has found a miraculous sweet spot between noise, drone, folk, field recordings, and stutters of glitch. The diligence paid to atmosphere is rewarded, avoiding convolution - a common issue for projects with such a long list of professed influences - in favour of rich, evocative instrumentals. The warring opener “Astral Filth” beckons the likes of Have A Nice Life before wrapping itself in harsh noise, only to be shaken off by the persistent, warped drums; elsewhere, the distant vocals of “Void III” carry a Dan Barrett-esque mournful tone. “It Froze Me” pays respects to The Mountain Goats in an ethereal cover tune, with thick overtones granting a haunting ebb and flow. Perhaps the most profound influence on the album is Phil Elverum, particularly Mount Eerie’s
Wind’s Poem, in that it draws elements of black metal without really
being black metal, crossing over and catering to multiple listeners in a blustery middle ground. Somehow,
Voids doesn’t lose its posture.
The narrative isn’t as surefooted. Ponderous under the weight of self-reflection,
Voids seems to stumble, catching itself occasionally as though it were wandering in a drunken stupor to be momentarily sobered by the sight of something truly meaningful - we’ve all been there. Fuelling the recovery process are the likes of Darkthrone, Mystifier, and Bathory, to whom regards are given in “Void I”, “Void III”, and the spoken-word passage of “Æthers”, respectively. The vocals (present only in several songs) carry a sort of reverberating mumble well-suited to the sprawling, self-intimidating instrumentals. Moreover, that sense of distress is the driving force for
Voids' lacklustre introspection: a desire for a nothingness that isn’t really there. It calls to mind a destructive thought process of turning away loved ones and stewing in pity, seeking justification for one’s behaviour with a sort of satisfied dissatisfaction, if you can imagine (
“longing for a void” is one way to put it). Furthermore, none of this feels feigned here, despite the very feigning nature of the artist. It’s a case of emotions expressed better in tones than words ever could, as a sort of last-ditch confessional from someone afraid of vulnerability.
In that sense,
Voids is remarkably brave (
“there is no bravery without fear,” one might add). The scant lyrics hint, but they don’t tell all, and Purges has yet take to take the plunge into unabashed, baring-all admission. However, he’s dipping his toes in, which is arguably more commendable than someone already comfortable with the cold. If the vocals are claiming,
“it-it-it’s kinda ch-chilly,” then the music is the shiver, the hesitance, the dread, and, finally, the gradual acceptance. Closer “Ghostlike Silence” ties this all together with a persevering guitar line fine-tuned with gorgeous production. The song’s progression makes for a fitting finale, as it grants closure - not ideal, mind you, but closure rarely is. Harmonicas complement the soft acoustic picking, which stands resilient despite the oncoming static and glitches. As it nears its end, “Ghostlike Silence” swells with harsh rumblings; but, Purges doesn’t falter. The final seconds are those of peacemaking, not conquest. They resemble being able to confront negativity, adapt to it, and grow stronger as a result.
The Voids We All Long For is a remarkable example of finding one’s voice through a love of music, creating something stunning, and finding one's self in the process. In searching for an all-encompassing void, Lost Salt Blood Purges has found depth, and it’s worth looking further.
