Release Date: August 28, 2012
Anniversary: 10 years
Genre: Noise/Post-Rock
The vast majority of the time, I don’t actually know if an album is going to leave a lasting impression when I first hear it (despite the many insta-5’s). There are LPs that seem immediate and others that feel like they’ll end up growing, but no matter how I feel about them initially, time is the only real measuring stick when it comes to determining a classic. With that said, there have been very, very few records (in fact, only two come to mind) that were so towering and so unique that the second I laid ears upon them, I just knew. Sufjan Stevens’ Carrie & Lowell was the first, and Swans’ The Seer was the second. In The Seer‘s case, it had such an impact on me because I’d literally never heard anything even remotely close to it in style or breadth. It demolished me upon first listen, leaving goosebumps on my skin and my jaw upon the floor. The second, third, and fourth listens yielded the same results. Now, ten years and countless listens later, my reaction to The Seer hasn’t changed one bit.
This is an unsettling experience that makes you feel like you’re living in an eerie post-apocalyptic realm: there’s witch incantations (‘Lunacy’), weird quiet laments (‘The Wolf’), sprawling 32-minute drone tracks (‘The Seer’), creepy-as-all-fuck borderline-industrial rockers (‘The Seer Returns’), the aching, creaking, churning wheels of hell (’93 Ave. B Blues’)…and that’s all before you even finish Disc 1 of 2. This thing is two hours of absolutely terrifying mischief — a nightmarish soundscape of swirling drones, industrial noise, and post-rock. The length of the album may initially seem like a deterrent, but once you’re completely immersed in this unhinged, rotten world, it becomes a crucial part of the record’s identity. The second disc sees a lot of the tension and darkness of the album’s first half split open like a ravine — namely the hope-tinged ‘Song For A Warrior’ featuring Karen O and the highly melodic outro to ‘A Piece of the Sky’. The Seer combines most if not all of Swans’ best traits while injecting it with a light vs dark aesthetic that makes it feel like a raging battle between good and evil.
Usually albums this bleak are not so readily accessible — it feels nothing like its two hour runtime, and the melodies throughout are catchy and instantly recognizable. One thing that’s vastly underrated when it comes to longevity is the album atmosphere, or it’s lasting vibe. There are some pretty great traditional rock albums out there that seem to fade over time because they don’t really occupy a unique space on the musical spectrum. Above all its other undeniable strengths, that’s where The Seer truly thrives. No other record I’ve heard is as bone-chillingly weird as this one. It feels hellish, sweaty, and perverted. Even the artwork is totally fucked — like, what is that thing supposed to be? Whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s going to murder me in the middle of the night. Yet, despite all of this record’s frightening inclinations, it’s still genuinely beautiful.
Albums like that don’t just go away with time.
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