Info
Veil Of Light
Head/Blood/Chest
Order-Nr.: beläten |
12inch / Beläten Records / 2015
http://belaten.bandcamp.com/album/head-blood-chest
Cover angestoßen.
Veil
of Light is back with his first release since the majestically morose Ξ
album of last year (now sold out). The new 12" EP contains a quartet of
songs that capture the artist's signature air of serene and complex
industrial melancholy, yet widens the spectrum to include glimpses of,
dare I say, joy and hope. All the more powerful, then, the main theme of
dead serious exploration of the emotional torso, its appendages and
circulatory system. The title, Head/Blood/Chest, inevitably brings to
mind the seminal Throbbing Gristle album Journey Through a Body. But the
kinship ends there. This is no experimental 1/2-inch tape cacophony.
This is beautiful and evocative music, redolent with wonder. The bleak,
yet confident, tone echoes like the early literary works of James Graham
Ballard, particularly The Drowned World (1963). The ever-heating
climate is going to sizzle the poles and submerge all major cities on
Earth. We will return to the humid, reptilian lagoon from out of which
we once evolved. As with Ballard, the lasting impression from
Head/Blood/Chest is that, contrary to conventional wisdom, this is a
good thing. A long overdue return to our archaeopsychic past.
Programme A opens with All You Have which, with its serene power, comes
across as a sacred testament to all who believe in man and nature, while
turning their back on the idolatry, falsehood and abuse courtesy of the
so-called modern world. Musically, it seethes with gothic tradition in a
way we have previously not heard from Veil of Light. Adonis, the
following song, is a foreboding and unhurried, almost meditative, piece
complete with bitcrunched pads and Terminator toms and hats. Foreboding,
yet with a streak of benevolence that, as already stated, just makes it
all even more mesmerizingly foreboding.
Programme B commences with the more pacey Purple. An animated, marching
anthem for sadness. MMZ, the last song, is a somnambulistic but
grippingly acute theme that opens with the sound of a staticky synthetic
flugelhorn. A call to arms of the long-dormant autonomous systems of
the body, that now want to rebel and exert self-expression after eons of
stoical duty and obstinate regularity.
Head/Blood/Chest is a journey through an emotional as well as visceral
landscape, that arrives at the conclusion that the two seemingly
dualistic properties are, perhaps, made of the same basic stuff. A
hauntingly atmospheric and heart-swelling dreamscape, magnetically
etched into twelve inches of black vinyl.
of Light is back with his first release since the majestically morose Ξ
album of last year (now sold out). The new 12" EP contains a quartet of
songs that capture the artist's signature air of serene and complex
industrial melancholy, yet widens the spectrum to include glimpses of,
dare I say, joy and hope. All the more powerful, then, the main theme of
dead serious exploration of the emotional torso, its appendages and
circulatory system. The title, Head/Blood/Chest, inevitably brings to
mind the seminal Throbbing Gristle album Journey Through a Body. But the
kinship ends there. This is no experimental 1/2-inch tape cacophony.
This is beautiful and evocative music, redolent with wonder. The bleak,
yet confident, tone echoes like the early literary works of James Graham
Ballard, particularly The Drowned World (1963). The ever-heating
climate is going to sizzle the poles and submerge all major cities on
Earth. We will return to the humid, reptilian lagoon from out of which
we once evolved. As with Ballard, the lasting impression from
Head/Blood/Chest is that, contrary to conventional wisdom, this is a
good thing. A long overdue return to our archaeopsychic past.
Programme A opens with All You Have which, with its serene power, comes
across as a sacred testament to all who believe in man and nature, while
turning their back on the idolatry, falsehood and abuse courtesy of the
so-called modern world. Musically, it seethes with gothic tradition in a
way we have previously not heard from Veil of Light. Adonis, the
following song, is a foreboding and unhurried, almost meditative, piece
complete with bitcrunched pads and Terminator toms and hats. Foreboding,
yet with a streak of benevolence that, as already stated, just makes it
all even more mesmerizingly foreboding.
Programme B commences with the more pacey Purple. An animated, marching
anthem for sadness. MMZ, the last song, is a somnambulistic but
grippingly acute theme that opens with the sound of a staticky synthetic
flugelhorn. A call to arms of the long-dormant autonomous systems of
the body, that now want to rebel and exert self-expression after eons of
stoical duty and obstinate regularity.
Head/Blood/Chest is a journey through an emotional as well as visceral
landscape, that arrives at the conclusion that the two seemingly
dualistic properties are, perhaps, made of the same basic stuff. A
hauntingly atmospheric and heart-swelling dreamscape, magnetically
etched into twelve inches of black vinyl.
