Review Summary: The scenic detour.
Holocene was destined to be a curveball. Resident electronic maestro Peter Voigtmann sent a handful of synth concepts to Robin Staps, who promptly picked up their guitar and built off of Voigtmann’s foundation, stating that the submitted ideas “had that definite Ocean vibe to it.” Ten albums deep into the project’s existence, one might believe that such a statement would convey an instantly understandable meaning, but in the face of another relatively experimental release by the German outfit, it seems prudent to ask: what exactly
is that Ocean vibe? The answer could be simple--Staps lays down some winding guitar passages, Loic Rosetti provides his trademark rugged baritone and commanding growls to tales of dinosaurs and humans and
man, we might be the same I don’t know guys!, everything slips neatly into a post-metal framework, and boom, job done. Yet Robin wasn’t at the epicenter of the Collective this time; that distinction apparently goes to Voigtmann, a relative newcomer who joined in 2018; dinosaurs have been replaced by the emergence of humans, making past allusions to modernity even more relevant; and such an explanation, reductive to the barest of bare minimums, seems an insufficient descriptor for a band that has commanded significant respect in the metal world for the past decade. The true meaning seemingly lies somewhere inside a record that toys with expectations and sounds in a manner not heard before from the Ocean lads. Though not absent of blemishes, the crew’s latest manages to impress in an entirely novel way while maintaining a remarkable level of consistency.
Rather than being primarily built around guitars, each track featured on
Holocene uses a synth melody as a launchpad, employing Voigtmann’s eerie sci-fi-like presence to establish a sense of unease and clear the way for fellow instrumental elements. Consequently, the normally raging waters of The Ocean are found at their tamest yet; focus is diminished from the sludgy post-metal rockers of yesteryear, with concentration redirected towards careful, understated crescendos enforced by electronic influences. A listener’s trek is less treacherous in this setting--the crash of thunderous bass riffs and lethal guitars is subdued, replaced by an organic production that favors restraint--but the skies remain dark with the threat of an oncoming storm. Consider the development of “Sea of Reeds”: beckoned onward by a creeping synth, the song slowly introduces light strumming, distant brass flourishes, and gentle drumming that act to create space, using a minimalistic template to seduce a listener with subtle modulations. No grand climax appears; Staps’ guitar glides through the depths while Loic’s echoing vocals breathe life into the background. Then consider the following “Atlantic,” which teases an unassuming experience before laying down a heavy, down-tuned finale. Power remains inside the gang’s arrangements, but the general songwriting aims to be immersive via patient rather than urgent compositions, raising the volume only when the audience is entranced by the atmosphere.
This emphasis upon gradually-developing tracks is stretched to encompass the record as a whole; its progression from song-to-song is marked by intertwined fluctuations in tension, gracefully rising and falling as momentum shifts between tunes. The pacing of
Holocene becomes a key part of its success--a welcome improvement from the comparatively lopsided
Phanerozoic II. The impending doom portrayed by the droning instrumentals and lurking brass of “Preboreal” transitions seamlessly into the gentle thrumming and understated electronics of “Boreal,” using a robust bass to launch into a weighty riff and a powerful, climactic explosion. These smooth motions define the album; the hypnotic “Atlantic,” its vast expanse populated by sporadic horns, chimes, and a mesmerizing guitar passage, culminates in a menacing scream from Loic--an ideal increase in heaviness to prepare for “Subboreal,” which thrives off of groovy, thick guitars, complex riffs, and a resounding refrain. When the volatile “Unconformities” settles in, receding into the clouded waters as its manic finale fades, the pensive, melodic “Parabiosis” enters the scene with lush synth arrangements that give way to a djent-esque rhythm. This dependable flow allows each entry to obtain a specific purpose, be it a purely atmospheric venture or a shocking climax, consistently tying moments towards worthwhile buildups and engaging journeys.
Within this format, there are certain drawbacks--namely the fact that, while each tune possesses a defined role in the mix, they struggle to stand on their own. “Sea of Reeds” is a chief offender in this regard, as its success is dependent on its placement as a bridge, linking the hefty culmination of “Boreal” to the lengthy odyssey of “Atlantic.” The disc’s first half on the whole is constructed around the premise of it being an elongated climb to the top of a summit, amplifying intensity as the terrain grows steeper and morphs into the intimidating “Uncomformities” and hellacious “Subatlantic.” That payoff ends up being incredible to behold; the former is undoubtedly a highlight of the LP, gradually evolving from despairing female clean vocals, a bouncy bass rhythm, and wonderfully understated drumming into a terrifying behemoth, plunging into frantic percussion, cacophonous guitars and a menacing synth line. The latter similarly bides its time in silence, allowing a piano and distant choir vocals to set the stage, until blossoming into a technical melodic riff and old-fashioned Collective post-metal bombast. However, the gentler waves of The Ocean lack the punch that even the quiet moments of
Phanerozoic II contained, testing both expectations and audience resolve in equal measure. When ingested in a front-to-back listening session, however, it’s an amazing trip to behold, and the subtle way it unfolds is thrilling.
The reserved nature of
Holocene inevitably places a great amount of responsibility onto its scientific-based concept and Loic Rosetti’s ability to relay it. In the
-centric days, this was a tall order, but over the past several years since becoming the de-facto vocalist of the Collective, Rosetti has transformed into a powerhouse. When grappling with questions of existentialism, mortality, artificially-lengthened life spans throughout “Parabiosis”--a term describing a method of physiological experimentation--there’s a sense of desperation in his voice, which quickly slinks into a droning monotone that sounds resigned to an eternal, yet ultimately empty life. No two vocal melodies are alike; Rosetti differentiates his delivery considerably, alternating between his commanding baritone, morose bass tone, and resonating harsh vocals--a rarer appearance this go-around, making their sparse use all the more impactful. There’s a palpable anguish to the gloomy verses of “Subatlantic'' as Loic illustrates the inevitable climate collapse Earth is sprinting towards, and the conclusion of “Atlantic'' is punctuated by his intense phrasing. The imaginative expressions he offers demonstrate his growth into the project’s leading singer, and they reliably ground the lyrical concepts that the album aims to portray.
Though the bones of a traditional Ocean release are heard--the charismatic, chameleon-like drumming capable of morphing to fit any given song, the distinct writing style of Robin Staps, the everpresent bass that concocts a delicious, rhythmic foundation--its methods are notably different. This isn’t an interpretation of the “vibe” as has come to be expected despite lingering similarities, owing in large part to the new dimension opened by Voigtmann’s enhanced position. If the
Phanerozoic suites were complete explorations of The Ocean’s modern sound, demonstrating every facet of their evolution from a project to a sextet,
Holocene is the scenic detour: a trek on the path not marked on a map, taking in the unconventional sights before looping back to familiar routes. It’s a journey that, true to the group’s album-minded approach to music, requires patience to embark upon, but the beauty that unravels from that adventure makes the diversion well worth it. If there’s a vibe attributable to The Ocean, it’s found there--that feeling of a grander, epic story at play behind the dexterous riffs, the pounding rhythm section, the rushing waves. It lies in the lush ambiance, the engaging atmosphere, the smooth ebb and flow from track-to-track, album-to-album. No matter the approach, that vibe is intrinsic to the Collective’s body of work, and it’s what makes every new release something special to experience.
