Review Summary: dreary post-metal for a disconnected world.
“The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel”
…the first sentence of William Gibson’s 1984 classic cyberpunk novel,
Neuromancer. Also the title of the first song on this record. Combined with the fact that the band itself is named after a 1994 cyberpunk point-and-click PC game, and the album cover features the dark and tightly packed corridor of a dense urban sprawl, it’s pretty easy to pick up what the band is putting down here, at least aesthetically. Perhaps apart from the odd synth key that makes it through the dark-glass walls of guitar and bass, there is nothing overtly sci-fi about Beneath a Steel Sky’s music, but the band’s debut record does excel in conveying a sense of isolated sorrow that is implicit in a world of hypertech individualism (perhaps one we are already familiar with). It’s in this way that Beneath a Steel Sky manages to create such dreary post-rock metal landscapes that feel so close to the heart. Yet despite all of its crystal-clear guitar tones and dreamy tempos,
Cleave isn’t necessarily an easy listen. This is pure doom. Carnations for a funeral procession. Beneath a Steel Sky’s rhythm section sees to it that we hold a sullen march through these seven songs like a storm cloud on a still day, counting the seconds between lightning flash and the bellowing roar that follows, and at times it can feel exhausting. Not because the riffs are boring — no, no. The songs build on repetition as doom should and are hypnotic enough to bask in if you have the patience — but because the atmosphere is so bleak. Saccharine cleans offer a splash of light to soften the blow, but they really just end up making things more depressing.
Cleave is a slow burn, and the consistent drudgery might bear too much tedium for some. I don’t exactly blame them. These songs do often take the same worn traverse from somber arpeggio front-half to monolithic howling back-half, but I’ll be damned if it isn’t always a gorgeous view at the summit. The bargaining cries and colossal riffs have more in common with waves on jutting sea cliffs than sprawling metropolises, but the sense of empty longing is the same. I think some more obvious interjections from the keys could have shaken things up and carried this album to another level, but their textural impact is invaluable nonetheless (look no further than “The infinite silence…”). Some more back-and-forth vocal parts like on “Vanguard” and “Cyclical dunt” would have bolstered the dynamics as well, but I digress. Beneath a Steel Sky has succeeded in creating an album that sucks the colour out of everything until all that’s left is the black and white pallor of brutalism. If you enjoy staring at your reflection through sidewalk puddles and considering every wrong turn you have ever taken in life, then this album is for you. And for the happily adjusted among us,
Cleave is at least pretty enough for a listen or two.
