Souls at Zero, by
Neurosis
Released: May 19, 1992
Genre(s): Atmospheric sludge metal, sludge metal, ostensible ur-example of post-metal
Label: Alternative Tentacles
Perhaps it would’ve been a better idea to write about prior sludge metal releases first to give readers a better idea of what the genre is; as crucial a band as Neurosis is, after a certain point their music is hardly representative of the genre’s early history, and this has only gotten truer with each subsequent release. Basically, sludge metal is a crossover genre of sorts, a fusion of the slow, unhurried pace and dour atmosphere of doom metal with shouted vocals and aggression borrowed from the hardcore punk scene. Sometimes songs will be slow enough to be akin to doom metal, sometimes the music will be fast enough to match punk, but either way, the results are thoroughly metal. If you want a better idea of the genres origins, I’d strongly recommend checking out
Acid Bath or the
Melvins’ ‘80s albums, which have all the attributes of both parent genres and also arguable noise rock and thrash metal influences. The amateur music historian in me was tempted to write about either of those instead, but I opted for
Neurosis instead, because more often than not I’ve found them to be the most interesting thing to come out of the scene. What separated Neurosis from their contemporaries was their song lengths, which were, and still are, often used for structures more technical and perhaps more freeform than a lot of ‘90s sludge at the time, and their willingness to incorporate instrumentation one would normally never hear in a genre as aggressive and basic as sludge metal. Does all that add up to this nearly 30-year-old album holding up? Let’s find out, shall we.
The record’s barely begun and already it stands out from the other ‘90s sludge I’ve heard; the first minute and a half of “To Crawl Under One’s Skin” is a collage of news reports set against an increasingly loud bell that’s more reminiscent of early industrial music than anything else, more specifically of early
Coil and
Einstürzende Neubauten circa 1983. The next three minutes are a rather imposing buildup, the way the guitars suddenly come in sound like some manner of leviathan has been awoken and isn’t too chuffed at being summoned. Jason Roeder’s drumming sticks out to me in particular, it sounds to my ears like he’s cycling through several different genres, especially punk and thrash metal, and the rhythm changes are so fluid that I almost forget that the band’s riding a single chord progression. Roeder eventually settles into a primal fill that would go on to become a trademark on several later albums, albeit at a significantly slower pace. When the vocals finally come in, they come in with a flurry of distorted guitars, and there’s also moments where Scott Kelly’s vocals blend seamlessly with guitar feedback. All this adds up to the song feeling more like a journey than it really is, considering that it’s made up of two sections riding two riffs.
The title track is about as much a bruiser as “To Crawl Under One’s Skin”, albeit a more measured, mid-tempo one. The first three minutes establish tension well with its several varieties of descending melodies, it creates a sort of swinging sensation. The rest of the song is unusually long-winded for sludge metal, and I can definitely see why the band claimed
King Crimson as an influence. That’s not to say it’s anywhere near as technical as most of King Crimson’s music, but the structure does feel like something that would probably be more at home in a prog rock suite than a sludge metal song. It’s of an unusually grand scale for the genre, but it fits the apocalyptic imagery quite nicely. “Zero” is pointless, basically a small passage of “Souls at Zero” with ominous interviews in the background. It’s a good mood setter, I suppose, but that’s all there is to be said about it.
“Flight” is one of the few moments where the album truly falters; it’s one of the thrashier moments on the record, but it’s also the first song to feature instrumentation that ordinarily would never feature in a metal album: folk instrumentation, more specifically flute and violin. It sounds more like something that’d be on a neofolk album, it wouldn’t sound out of place in a
Sol Invictus song. While the transition to this movement is kind of awkward, it does break up the song nicely, and I’d like it far more if it ended there. But no, they had to return to the most metal part of the song, and it only just reminds me that these two halves don’t feel connected, and thus hardly complement each other.
“The Web” fortunately resumes the albums winning streak; the main point of interest is the meaty, propulsive bassline that chugs along for most of the song, complemented by drumming which has a sort of ebb and flow to it. It kind of sounds like
Godflesh, but with far more urgency. “Sterile Vision” is the first glimpse into the Neurosis albums to come; it has the most restraint of any song so far, with its quiet acoustic opening which becomes something of a motif when the rest of the band comes in. Neurosis would come to favour the loud/soft dynamic strongly in later records, but unless their first two albums prove me wrong this is one of the first major examples of that approach. It’s also notably the slowest song on the album, the closest it gets to being true doom metal, though the trumpet passage near the end is an unusual but welcome addition.
“A Chronology for Survival” does a nice job with a kinetic hi-hat rhythm and discordant acoustic strums, before the rest of the band proper explodes with Scott Kelly and Steve Von Till’s dual bellows and chromatically descending flange guitar. It’s here where the band’s punk roots fully reveal themselves: the speed and vocals brings to mind
Black Flag, but far heavier. There’s also a folk interlude, kind of like the previous “Flight” but far more naturally incorporated; there’s a nice violin solo that would fit quite well in a neofolk album, and it continues as the song once again begins taking on more of a metal tone. On the whole, this is much smoother than “Flight”; the transitions are more natural, the folk and metal easily blend, and unlike “Flight” it actually sounds to my ears like it might have been written with violin in mind.
“Stripped” also has nice folk moments, although I find it suffers from odd pacing; it’s broken up by samples of Gregorian chants, and I truly have no idea why they’re there or how they serve the song in any way. It has also has a tendency to switch between acoustic and metal passages that I find consistently jarring. Lastly, the synth kind of sucks; there’s moments where horn and bell presets are played, and they never fail to pull me out of the song and remind me that this album was made in the early ‘90s. Fortunately, it’s followed by my favourite song, “Takeahnase”, the climax that this album deserves. It does a nice job building tension with a Native American man warning about what might happen if humanity strays from the laws of “the Great Spirit”. Then a bass solo courtesy of Dave Edwardson occurs, and it only gets more tense from there as Edwardson’s band mates slowly join him one by one. When Kelly comes in he seems to be proclaiming a particularly apocalyptic variety of environmentalism, of humanity being drowned in vengeful floods and a simple refrain of Von Till bellowing “Burn! Down!” Oddly enough, I’m reminded strongly of progressive rock; this is the only song on the track listing where I think the playing could be accused of being “wanky” in the way that a lot of prog rock and metal bands are accused of, although it feels more purposeful than the comparison might imply. It feels like it’s all in service of creating this apocalyptic imagery that all comes back to that refrain and descending horn motif. There isn’t really much to be said about “Empty”, other than that in comparison to the rest of the track listing it does feel empty; the record could have ended just as strongly on “Takeahnase”, but it does feel necessary in breaking the album up, and in that respect it certainly succeeds.
Souls at Zero isn’t exactly the most representative of Neurosis’ sound, but it is an important milestone not only in their discography, but in sludge metal as a whole; for a sludge album, it was quite adventurous for its time because of its incorporation of folk instrumentation and the occasional shameless prog inspiration. It’s also a transitional point in the band’s discography, somewhere between their punk origins and the more extreme sounds they’d pursue for the rest of the ‘90s. Perhaps the only areas where it sounds dated, aside from the synths, are the samples, although I can forgive them because I appreciate the industrial influence; it reminds me of
Death in June in particular, but without the unfortunate Neofascist bent. It has several ideas that would be more refined in later records to come, but it has a rawness that makes it stand out from other Neurosis albums; it’ll probably appeal more to people who like the heavier sound a lot of ‘90s sludge bands had, but it also has enough of what people like about Neurosis, such as the abstract mysticism, that both audience can probably enjoy it equally.
Favourite songs: "Takeahnase", "Souls at Zero", "The Web", "A Chronology for Survival"
Least favourite(s): "Flight", "Stripped"
