Review Summary: Pick your battles.
For some, the term ‘drone’ carries negative connotations from the get-go, as though it’s characterized by boredom - songs taking their sweet-ass time, only to be left in the wayside in favour of something more immediate.
Al Jalloum, a two part epic from British field-recording artist Jamesreindeer, balances overarching foreboding tones with little subtleties to catch your attention. To visualize: it’s like watching the world descend into darkness, but noticing how the shadows cascade over the trees and buildings. It’s both awe-inspiring and anxiety ridden. Darkness is the key element to
Al Jalloum, as the music is evasive, hiding from plain sight and toying with your instincts. Despite the methods of field-recording used in the creation, the music is rarely communicative with the natural world. It’s as though Jamesreindeer is battling with his surroundings, falling further and further into confusion while nature envelops him. As a whole,
Al Jalloum is jarring, yet beautiful. Admittedly, it's actually difficult for me to avoid an over-use of visuals when describing it, as it’s
that immersive. I feel like I’ve been stripped naked, thrown into water, started drowning, then discovered an ability to breathe underwater and explore the depths. It’s fucked.
I don’t know why I do this to myself, really. This music is sadistic, isolating, wretched, haunting, and I love it. The title track whispers eerily, rumbling with the sound of distant conflict. It’s far off, so you aren’t amidst the chaos - essentially, you’re ‘safe’, but the tones still creep into your thoughts, troubling you. It’s like removing yourself from humanity, but still seeing people wage wars from miles away, damaging your state of mind vicariously. Gradually, you might begin to hallucinate, growing more and more paranoid. As the song progresses, shrill tones waft over the echoing sub-bass, varying in texture and disappearing from view. There are moments of calm, but these only serve as false promises, as the track grows more and more punishing and warped. The eleven-minute mark is outright scary, and I don’t want to talk about it, so let’s move on. “Nine Days in Serpent Graves” utilizes torturous saxophones, distorted beyond recognition, serving as a testament to reworking tired sounds into something completely different. It’s about as dark as dark-jazz can get, and the notes scrape down your back like nails. The song finds a balance between euphoria and torment, ensnaring the listener like a femme fatale. I’m not fooled - I know I’m in danger - but I’m too enamoured to care.
Al Jalloum is a humbling listen. It makes me feel vulnerable, which isn’t something I pursue in escapist music, as I usually crave solace and carefreeness. I want to feel powerful and in control, able to steer the narrative of the music however I see fit, making my own path and giving the story
my meaning.
Al Jalloum won’t have it. It’s uncompromising, and admirable in its utter refusal to let me grow comfortable with myself. Jamesreindeer has created something dynamic, engaging, and moving, while relying on lengthy drones and jazz elements. I shouldn’t be listening to this - between exams, work, family, and everything along with those things, the last thing I need is derailment or conflict. If you’ve taken high school english, you’re probably familiar with the different conflicts used in stories.
Al Jalloum presents two of them: man versus nature and man versus self. Frankly, they both terrify me.
