Review Summary: With Wavering Radiant Isis leave the material world behind creating a mirror like distortion of reality where every piece of music and every syllable becomes distorted through a haze of sound, intensity and lyrical genius.
Isis have always been a band whose music extended beyond just instrumentation and into intellectualism. None of their albums contain a specific concept, but they have an almost unifying mythology. Celestial Isis’ first major LP introduced the concept of the tower and the crushing groove-laden riffs helped to extenuate the deconstruction and absolute frailty holding up that tower. On Oceanic (the album many consider their best) Isis took to the sea introducing a watery sound that battered you like the a crushing tidal wave. Despite the heaviness and overall anger of the album, dealing with very difficult concepts: incest, rape, suicide etc., Isis managed to introduce an element of beauty with the female character (most notably on the song “Weight”). Panopticon took to the sky with its re-examination of the tower concept, although, this time the tower served as an invasion of privacy. The music was soaring with much of their signature heaviness, replaced by introspective moments of alarming beauty: “In Fiction,” “Wills Dissolve.”
Finally In the Absence of Truth arrived and it seemed Isis had retreated deeply into the recesses of its own mind, exploring concepts such as: eastern philosophy, Hassan-I Sabbah and the novel Don Quixote. The music bounced around from the traditional heavy to beautiful digression Isis had been known for (“Holy Tears”), to the blipping insanity of “Fibrous E Bareen.”
With Wavering Radiant Isis leave the material world behind creating a mirror like distortion of reality where every piece of music and every syllable becomes distorted through a haze of sound, intensity and lyrical genius. The music runs the gamut from the emotionally harrowing “Ghost Key” to the brutally relentless “Threshold of Transformation,” and when Isis reach that threshold the listener merely stands in awe of the grand spectacle of evolution before them.
“Hall of the Dead” begins the transformation through a slow humming which seems to lull the listener out of an eternal sleep. The drums maintain a steady beat over the signature Aaron Turner bellow. This time Turner’s bellows seem more natural and fluid, and more guttural. There is a certain passive-aggressive tendency to the vocals. They seem to be both relentlessly violent (“Threshold of Transformation) and strikingly serene (“Stone to Wake a Serpent”). Turner has not only vastly improved his formidable pipes, but also created a vocal atmosphere which is at once reminiscent of previous works, and completely new to the Isis discography. There is a certain level of satisfaction Isis’ fans can attain through the evolution of the bands overall sound and the distinct improvement of Turners vocals, over previous albums.
Musically Isis’ sound like a distorted, mirror version of themselves. They have forgone much of the dirty sludge-laden riffs of Oceanic and Celestial, in favour of clean tones which still convey their aggression, just in a more constructive and logical fashion. They are no longer infants in the music business and as such have developed a much more constructive way of dealing with infantile emotions such as: anger, jealousy and overall dissatisfaction with the state of things. I tend to see this evolution as being similar to Tool’s evolution from Undertow to Lateralus: on the latter they tended to appease their anger and aggression through grungy riffs and hate-fueled lyrics, while on the former they introduced a problem, examined it , and then solved it through an expositional piece of music.
On “Ghost Key” the stand out track on the album, in my opinion, there is a clearly cathartic and exploratory essence. The bass plays a watery mirror-laden riff, which is both emotionally evocative and eerily introspective. The album continues on this path of being both subtly emotional and fleetingly surreal. “Threshold of Transformation” explodes with the beautifully forceful lyrics: “I’ve arrived, king of lucid dreams.” Isis have arrived, whether it be in a purely superficial “making it” kind of way, or the more likely way: as a creative and expanding work of art just basking in a little self-affirmation.
Isis’ music has tackled so much both musically and conceptually that it’s wholly satisfying as an avid fan to watch this musical boulder roll down a hill, where each bump or experience along the way is not simply disregarded or forgotten but re-incorporated in a unique or interesting way. It’s both a logical and creative approach to music which leaves the listener with a sense of familiarity and wonder, and I for one cannot wait to see what comes next from this fascinating musical collective.
