Review Summary: Another chapter of a fascinating discography
Back when
Times of Grace dropped, Neurosis’ discography was already a force to be reckoned with; with the the chilling
Souls at Zero, the disconcertingly brutal
Enemy of the Sun and the colossal
Through Silver in Blood under their belt, their legacy was well on its way. The evolution between these three albums ties in nicely to
Times of Grace; Neurosis had beefed their sludge up to its most crushing on
Through Silver In Blood and were displaying an increasing focus on contrasting dynamics and non-metal instrumentation. The band's logical next step was to push further with these elements, and so they delivered
Times of Grace.
From the first few seconds of the opener "Suspended In Light", it's clear that the band's polarity of ominous foregrounding and crushing apexes is less prominent here; the track introduces an ambience that floats liminally rather than building to anything in particular. For all intents and purposes an interlude track, it may seem like an inappropriate synecdoche, but it's a cogent first taste of the atmosphere at work here. Highlight track "Under the Surface", for instance, goes through classic Neurosis churnings and climbings and climaxings in a manner that may seem familiar section-by-section, yet the band make their way through the track far more smoothly and organically than anything they had touched thus far. The way they scale back their sense of contrast does mean that
Times of Grace takes a long time to adjust to as a first-timer, even by the standards of Neurosis albums, but anyone who successfully pinpoints the album's landscape will find it richly rewarding.
This is in part due to the sheer diversity of tones and ideas at work here, from the all-out chugfest of "The Doorway" to the strained tension of "Belief" to the disarmingly peaceful soundscapes that prop up "Away"'s lullaby-esque verses. Neurosis sound more prepared than ever to flesh out their palette, and they support this vision with mature arrangements and uniformally focused songwriting;
Times of Grace may be a halfway house between
Through Silver In Blood's peaks and valleys and
A Sun That Never Sets' ebbing and flowing, but it avoids the awkward starts and teething marks typically associated with transitional albums. To this end, the band benefitted from the production talents of Steve Albini, whose engineering and layering is exemplary in its clarity, and from the discipline to confine many of this project's most experimental accents to the accompanying disc
Grace, credited to Tribes of Neurot. Many will attest to the enhanced experience of listening to both discs in parallel, but regardless of which configuration is ultimately superior, it's easy to admire Neurosis' reticence against overstuffing one disc with every idea at their disposal.
In many ways, this album rivals
The Eye of Every Storm as the smoothest start-to-end journey in the Neurosis canon; linked by a set of individually compelling interludes and a lingering sense of apocalyptic greyscale that no-one else captures quite like Neurosis, continuity is very much the name of the game here. My one reservation is that the second half lacks the same stakes as the first; after the quite frankly fearsome combination of "The Doorway", "Under the Surface" and "The Last You'll Know", the band largely shed their claws and explore softer territory until the apocalyptic title track hauls things to a close. This makes sense as a runoff, and the album certainly never lets go of its early momentum, but it's hard to shake an overall sense of top-heaviness. As shortcomings go, this is hardly grave;
Times and Grace may play the majority of its stunners early on, but it adjusts its footing time and time again with a distinct kind of sluggish dexterity, never losing itself in the density of its soundscapes. A highlight for Neurosis.
