Thankfully we are not going into this one completely blind. All paths lead to Reading resident Umair Chaudhry who has been musically involved in Xmas Lights, Abandon, Futureproof and Monday Morning Sun in the past. He set up Blindsight Records as a means of releasing his body of work and as far as Gift Of Blindness are concerned this is the 3rd album, with Umair as the sole musician involved. There’s not a huge amount more I can tell you apart from the fact that doom, post metal and industrial are the prevailing factors of what we have here and the fact that this is no exercise in short song-writing. Indeed, I got a bit of a shock putting this album on and noting that the 8 tracks weigh in at a whopping 70-minutes in length
Everything here is wrought out and hewn from granite weathered rock, well that’s how it feels. The opening note of 1st number ‘Hide’ jangles away for what feels like an indeterminable amount of time and you are well aware that you are in for the long haul on this listening experience. Once everything finally crunches in and indeed it does crunch in a very solid fashion another thing is evident. If Umair has a particular muse here it is channelled via Justin Broadrick. There’s no hiding the elephant in the room that this is very much a case of following the path laid down by Godflesh with long churning and momentous, monotonous slabs of corrosive industrial noise with vocals repeated and hollered out amidst the throbbing pounding soundscapes. In lighter moments, the more post moods that are used to break up the carnage and let things breathe as indeed they need to with songs that are this long, Jesu is the lighter touch with both the shimmering guitar work and the more harmonious cleaner vocal tones. I don’t really want to sell this short and say that perhaps some may find this lacking in identity of its own as Umair does it all very well and competently but some may have trouble looking past the fact of the origins of the sound displayed here. Counterpoising between the brutality and the more reflective parts gives some recovering time on a track like the 14-minute opener but on the whole the album as a complete listening experience has long sections that offer little in the way of relief and can be a suffocating and claustrophobic experience. This is by no means a negative point and its best to take a deep breath and continue whilst being prepared for the fact that when you, as you no doubt will, play this at ear splitting volume there is a danger it may feel like your head is about to explode.
Constraint is not a word to use in any fashion describing The Lake and there is no real way that this body of water is designed to do anything but drown you in its fathomless depths. As we continue the track titles are nearly all one-word giving little in the way of clues apart from leaving a somewhat nasty taste in the mouth. Bass throbs over ‘Tailchaser’ and the mood is glum despite the clean vocals which have a solemn and morose feel, the effect being one of impending doom as it casts slow ruin over proceedings. The words “slave” and “slain” are left to echo around as it gets grim and batters round the head once that doom is delivered. ‘Receptacle’ has the lake in motion and churning, the water is choppy as caught in a storm and all sailing on it are caught off-guard and feeling decidedly seasick. It’s a metaphor, the body of water itself, one of self-preservation in a world of pain and hurt looking at the lyrics which are related in the background rising into a harrowing and echoing form. Looking further into these suffering and frailty, very human conditions seem to be the main subject matter and along with the music there is no safe place here. Certainly, you won’t find any in a number such as ‘Germs’ one very much for our times and one riddled with abrasive hostility. This is not a place to find yourself unwittingly traversing and by now the listener will be aware there is no easy escape going to be made at the half-way mark.
It’s more a case of songs of Hate And Loathing than Love And Hate as we continue over onto an album that strikes as perfect for double vinyl with 2 tracks per side. You would at least get a bit of respite flipping sides but not here as we drop into the primeval thud of ‘Warpath’ with a primitive early Killing Joke tribal pitch that takes right back to fire dances of old. The incendiary cry of “burn” repeated at culmination just firing these flames. ‘Pathway’ has a bit of a leaden groove, the bass is a very important weapon throughout and here there is more melodicism perhaps as the song ebbs and flows vocals both gnarly and clean reflecting the dichotomy of their lyrics and a “soul” to be both “fed” and “fucked”.
As this review is in danger of sprawling like the music itself, I am leaving my imaginary side d) to those intrigued enough to take a listen to the full release themselves. I certainly am not sugar-coating anything in the slightest. The Lake Is a tough listen and could destroy the casual explorer. As for Umair handling every aspect of this from music to vocals, production, artwork and even release and not falling short in any respect he should be pleased at the result which is ultimately a very accomplished piece of work. Hopefully it will be found by an equally receptive audience as me.
(8/10 Pete Woods)
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