This is a work of the imagination for the imagination. “What happens when you travel so far east looking for enlightenment that you’re your destination and are headed west again?” they ask. Inspired by the Wicker Man soundtrack, “Far West” is an adventure of sorts, a “soundtrack to this expedition to the caves of light we all travel into with hopes of acquiring redemption”. You would rightfully deduce from The Wicker Man reference that there is a strong degree of weirdness and horror. Musically this fantasy infusion is anything between progressive folk and musical soundtracks and orchestral darkness. Instrumentally it’s a riot of synths, guitars, percussion and much more. Art for art’s sake or something you can and want to feel genuinely close to? Just infuse, I say. Here goes.
Drums beat as if we’re at a Native Indian camp. That’s all that’s normal here. A collection of sounds emerge, evoking the east and higher places. The drama of a film soundtrack is there, as advertised. Here’s the adventure. Sounds of horror emerge. “White Mountain Return” is avant-garde, progressive and psychedelic. This is music to let your mind run away, music to fuel the imagination. Hypnotising sound waves and dark wavy orchestration are the initial calling card of “Arche”. That drum beat is again there, getting heavier and heavier. The faint sound of the electric guitar can be heard in the background. There’s eastern mysticism, indeed there’s a kaleidoscope of sounds from all parts of the globe. It’s ambient and steady, but so insistent that it’s sinister. Dream or nightmare? I reached a conclusion later. “Arche” is repetitive but spellbinding. Mystical waves are at work. This isn’t metal but there’s a post-metal feel.
Now we hear irregular dripping water. Industrial sounds intervene. That dream’s back. The rhythm is so distorted as to be nightmarish. A choir can be heard but it’s some way away. “Cave of Light – The Prima Materia” has the feel of a suspense thriller. I’m not sure about the distant-sounding choral chants or where they or the mantra they seem to be preaching fit it. Maybe it’s to unsettle us. It’s doing the job. A trumpet and shakers add to the dark soundscape. It’s not melodious, it’s not heavy, it has the hallmarks musically of a tv drama but most of all it’s disturbed and disturbing. All in all, unpleasant listening. Electronic sounds dilute the ritualistic chants. It leaves an impression but only in the sense of a nasty taste in the mouth. More experimentation in sound follows. Deep and resonant organ sounds dominate the slow moving “You Are a Dream like Your Dreamer – A Dark Place”. It is like a heavy and overwhelming force. Progress is painful. “Circular Ruins” then features the cultish choir and patient mechanical rhythm. There’s a suggestion of eastern influence as the choir, which recalled a religious group I once saw chanting on Hunstanton beach, sing monotonously and distantly about waking up from a dream. There is a mystical quality, but I found empathy hard to muster. The saxophone intervenes in the background. From nowhere the mantra-like song steps up. The blend of noises threatens to be chaotic and cacophonous. The overtones are once again unpleasant.
Zen is present on this album, which is in prime place to be the weirdest one of the year. But in spite of its intense spirituality, it is too cold to love. I liked the first two tracks, which were interesting, but as a whole “Far West” is repetitive, dismal, depressing and yet awesomely unique. The experimentation with sounds is different and does justice to its respect for The Wicker Man. “Wake up” chants the cheerless choir. This is indeed like the swirling confusion felt when waking up from a dream. But this is like an unpleasant one. “Far West” captures a recurrent nightmare.
(5/10 Andrew Doherty)
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