Review Summary: Listen closer.
Sunn O))) are big. They are not big in the sense of popularity (though they have gained quite a loyal fanbase), but just…
big. That is an objective fact. Only a band that wears black cloaks at their concerts and punctuate their name with three parentheses could create an album with four songs, some of which reach above fifteen minutes, and one of which is subtitled “Megszentségtelen*thetetlenségeskedéseiteké rt”. They create thundering epics that sometimes consist of only a few chords, fed through machinery and effects so numerous that the resulting sound is something that seems it is not from this world. They read from obscure poems in voices that are harrowingly deep and gravelly. There is no doubt that Sunn O))) are out to change the path of music, for better or for worse. Besides that, though, opinions on the band as a whole are extremely divided. Does their being “big” lead to pretense and obnoxiousness, or is it that trait that gives them their breathtaking and bleak epic symphonies of drone? Many skeptical listeners (including me) would sit right in the middle, simultaneously intrigued by the wall of sonic power built by these drone rockers, but also wondering “am I really enjoying this?”
From the beginning of their new album,
Monoliths & Dimensions, anyone who has already formulated an opinion on Sunn O))) is unlikely to have changed it: the deep and bleak drones that introduce the 17-minute epic “Aghartha” are familiar stuff for fans and detractors alike. The dark, unrelenting guitar chords buzz and whirr and thrum like machinery for about five and a half minutes until a low voice comes in, intoning a poem about the creation of the Earth. The whole song, once analyzed, could seem ridiculous, but Sunn O))) create a believable atmosphere, their music like a soundtrack to a post-apocalyptic Earth where the sky is black and everything that isn’t already dead is in the process of dying. It sounds ridiculous, but it works. This is, of course, before the bloodcurdling high-pitched strings and arrhythmic clicks and clatters of random percussion both enter, adding a whole new chilling aspect to the music. It becomes clear: this is not music you listen to because you enjoy it. This is music you listen to because you want to experience something otherworldly.
“Big Church” (the one with the ridiculous subtitle) starts very differently, but no less thematically: a beautiful chorus of female voices sing a twenty-second group of harmonies, with each individual harmony having an intense crescendo and then suddenly dropping off, all within about a second or two. Then commence the drones (which are later paired up with those same female voices, for a striking balance of beauty and grotesque bleakness, delicateness and roughness). The admitted utter bizarreness of it all may have some listeners throwing both their hands up and pleading to the band members: “spare me the theatrics!” However, those who enjoy a little flair with their doom will embrace Sunn O)))’s willingness to look a little ridiculous in order to further the enjoyment of the listener.
Doesn’t sound appealing? Stay away from this album. The album’s four songs are in the same vein, albeit taking smaller steps toward a less doom-filled world of noise. “Hunting and Gathering (Cydonia)” introduces a muffled horn part (and later, a synthesizer) to brighten up things slightly (but not much, the band’s signature drones and growling vocals still taking the front lines). The song ends on a screeching guitar note. And then silence.
Despite all of the treasures shown throughout this sprawling album, it is “Alice”, the thematic 16-minute closer, which is the album’s crowning achievement. While still dark, the song shows a change in pace for the band, with crescendos of blaring horns taking the lead along with a tremolo-y guitar. The song lets itself build, the guitar and horns sometimes responding to each other’s calls, sometimes playing simultaneously. The song shows a lighter side of Sunn O)))’s music, especially during the end, when the guitar is all but gone, and the band lets the strings and horns wander. But they wander beautifully. The procession of instruments manages to be, by far, the most singularly pleasant and alluring thing on the album, while also somehow still making sense: this is still the same band, just flipped over so you can see a different side of them.
Anyone who enjoys any of Sunn O)))’s music will without a doubt enjoy this album as well, and anyone who is turned off by the band will probably not change their mind. However, this does not mean the album is the same as the rest. Far from it. The album is a revelation for the band, showing their many faces. They are not just a doom band. They are a band of spirituality, a band of wishing and daydreaming.
Monoliths & Dimensions flashes glimmers of hope among all the doom, like a distant light at the end of the tunnel.
