3d-visions

[3d-visions]

False Lankum - Lankum

This was the first album I listened to from 2023 in full, I know, very sad, but starting this slightly different flavour of breakdown has really changed the way that I listen to music. And to be very honest, this was both a challenge and a catalyst. In the past, the way I have interacted with music has been flighty and obsessive, repeatedly listening to a singular song whilst neglecting the rest of the album. This is why (and it should come as no surprise to anyone who has listened to this album in full) that this was a challenging album for my short attention span to listen to, especially as a return to full length listening.

Don't worry, I'll set the scene for you. On Friday the 5th of April (I sound like a wanker, last Friday) I travelled up to the north of England to the thoroughly depressing city of Hull - it even feels awful when you say it, try it now, say it out loud, I'll wait here for you. Done it? Good, now keep reading - (probably because of the weird vibes of my family) to visit family and go and see Ed Gamble in York. When we arrived after a refreshing 10 hours of driving, I was promptly frog-marched into my grandparent's house. Soon enough I had the chance to skulk off, up the creakiest stairs in existence to a room I used to share with my brother and cousins. You know the feeling when you go back to a primary school that you went to as a child and remark 'oh it's all so much smaller than I remember', now make it derelict. Returning to that room without the accompaniment of childhood or people creates a unique sadness, so I did the obvious thing and blocked it out completely. And thus began my deep dive into the music of 2023. It's a wonder how, when surrounded by the accoutrements of your rapidly rotting childhood, you can become so engrossed in reminiscing about my last year of not being an adult.

Anyway, onto the actual album, I know I've talked a lot about myself, but this is for me and not you so… I discovered this album when I scrolled to the guardian's album of the year on their 'top 50 of 2023'. Of course, being the impatient little imp I am, I imminently popped my noise-cancelling headphones on and emersed myself in the traditional folk/ drone metal masterpiece. Disclaimer, I literally know nothing about music, I'll do my best.

'Go Dig My Grave' is the opening track of the record, and it begins with the piercing, melodic, unaccompanied vocals of Radie Peat. If I were to come across this opening in my casual music listening, then I would skip quickly as my puny, internet-poisoned brain would not be able to handle an eight and a half minute song. However, once I took a quick glance around the room, I was open to something new. Soon enough, the unnerving floating vocals are accompanied by disembodied notes that are eerily elongated and a monotone duet providing a spine tingling bass/ drone-y feel which I can only imagine is amazing live. The floating notes soon amalgamate into a cacophony of noise that seems straight from hell, the drone has become heady and metallic, almost screeching. Where the rest of the song is felt in your extremities the final few minutes are most certainly targeting the head, I can almost feel the continuous pitched drone in my temples. It brings with it the experience of a gig, like you can feel the music through the speakers, but without bursting an eardrum.

'Clear Away in the Morning' drifts seamlessly into the ending of the last track, continuing the high-pitched and swooping drone I am so fond of but introducing a melodic pendulum of noise accompanied by acoustic strumming. Despite the lack of vocals for the first two and a half minutes, the instrumentation manages to evoke the feeling of the ocean, of waves crashing against rocks. It feels 'of the Romantics' (getting use out of my English A-Level) and to me gives a definite sense of the sublime, it makes the listener small in the face of majesty, almost meditative. Even once the vocals begin, the track doesn't lose its sublimity, it's only enhanced by the harmonising vocals, which to me feel almost rapturous. Personally, it reminds me (yes, back to me again) of a day in November. I was walking back to my university halls, I could hear through the occasional 'einschwingvorgang' of thunder (there isn't a word in English that matches) lilting melodies from the cathedral, dipping in and out, the stained-glass windows illuminating the surrounding area with other-worldly light. Through the pounding of rain, I couldn't make out the lyrics I could only hear the harmony of the collective, I sat outside the cathedral for over an hour in the pouring rain that night. I could have just listened to this song because, same vibes.

'Fugue I' is the first of 3 interludes within the album that act as musical markers within the wide expanse of ocean that is this album, the swing of a lighthouses beam recalibrating the listener's position. This one brings a nice, yet definitive, end to the collective of the last two tracks. It gradually increases in pace until the abrupt ending, which heads into the next track.

'Master Crowley's' (haha, I fucking love good omens, Neil Gaiman <3) though jaunty in its use of sting instruments and its higher tempo beats feels constantly at risk of falling in on itself. It feels almost alive. The song has a real sense of movement, of some kind of behemoth lumbering along, the jig (idk if that's the right word) is placed on a soundscape of life. As we reach the halfway mark of the track, it shifts. We are taken down into the belly of the giant metallic beast and the jig is overpowered once again by the pendulum of noise seen in 'Clear Away in the Morning'. This track, due partially because of the lack of lyrics, takes the listener on a journey through the musical arrangements, for me this tracks creates the most imagery.

'Newcastle' is the song that my mother likes the most from this album and is comparatively (at least to its fugue mate) simple, though the layering and soundscape that surround the music provides depth, the real power of this song is Peat's voice. This track, I would say, is one of the most beautiful of the whole album. I feel bad because I don't have much to say about this song other than to just praise its beauty and gorgeousness. If for some reason you only listen to one song off of this album, then let it be this one.

'Fugue II' is the second of our three fugues and the shortest. Once again, it provides a nice bridge between the sections of music. The fugues I think are a bit more experimental than the full tracks. They provide a space to explore a newer sound. This one evokes a definite maritime feel, though that could just be me. The sprinkling of high-pitched tones brought to my mind the movement of metal chains at the docks, the constant cold pull of them as you heave them away from the sea. The screams and screeches of the rusting metal as they call back to the ocean.

'Netta Perseus' is once again a more acoustic number, but rather than the soundscape of 'Newcastle', the music here seems to swell and twist around the guitar. The sound as a whole seems more cohesive, the sounds are no longer just concordant but intertwining. Once you hit halfway, it changes into a wall of sound similar to 'Master Crowley's belly of the beast. The acoustic is attacked and taken over by the goliath of sound, strings weaving in and out of incessant drumming until the vocals come back in calming the sound back down. The lullaby like harmonies reach out and raining in the catastrophising noise.

'The New York Trader' is another fucking banger, it might sound like I'm hyping this album up too much, but it is genuinely just that good. This song in particular is far more closely linked to the music which I usually listen to. In preparation of writing this, I have done absolutely no research other than the short bit of information on the guardian's top 50 list. But this track sounds quite distinctively punk-y, both the lyrics and the sound feels quite a bit grimier, it displays a more intense sound with markedly more aggression which can be heard even in the strumming of the guitar.

'Lord Abore and Mary Flynn' another beautiful acoustic number, more of a ballad this time with gloriously rapturous restrained strings, and I am a fucking sucker for string arrangements. I'm going to talk a bit about the album as a whole. I think now, I would say that this album feels, more than anything else, like a labour of love and a definite unwillingness to compromise on a vision. This album, despite much of the lyrical content, feels quite celebratory to me. I'm not sure whether that celebration for me comes from a completely realised and unhindered creative vision or something else. Perhaps the complete harmony of the group, there is no pulling indifferent directions, this is clearly exactly what every member wants to be doing. I would be willing to bet that these people had been working together for years, the synchronicity and ease is so apparent throughout.

'Fugue III' Our final fugue, and our longest one, this track once again makes use of the high-pitched drone - at this point I can call it a motif right? But with an undercurrent of guitar, though after the seven minutes of melody from the last track, this one creates the most dissonance yet.

'On a Monday Morning' feels almost filmic in its execution, it has grand swells and mellow dips, I can't keep saying how beautiful this album is, just go and fucking listen to it. This album feels like a Magnum Opus, it feels definitive and powerful. The sound surrounds you and envelops you, once again to use the maritime metaphor, you are swept away to the sea during this record. It feels like less of an album and more of a dream, you transcend different realms and stories and become intertwined, yet it's not overwhelming, yes you have been swept away by the tide, but you aren't drowning. Don't worry, I've almost finished waxing poetic.

'The Turn' is the final culmination, a 13-minute culmination, it's joyous and definitive. It tells of a ship departing, as they are departing from this album. The occasional pick-ups of tempo and instrumentalisation create a (and I hate to use the word again) rapturous feeling, at the end of a truly amazing album which I'm sure will continue to live with me for a long time.

This is long and, and I doubt that anyone has actually read this far, but I guess if you have any recommendations, let me know or if you disagree with me or have anything to add (fr none of my friends know I'm trying to listen to everything from 2023). Also, if somehow you have read this and not listened to the album like literally wtf are you doing, go and listen to it.

[3d-visions]

Introduction :)

Heyo, welcome to my blog, this is a local blog for local people all about the music of 2023. My mission - no, my calling - is to listen to literally as much music as I possibly can from the year 2023.

Why?!?! I hear you cry from the audience, I was just about to tell you, be a bit more patient. At the beginning of this academic year, I started university and simultaneously commenced the darkest age of my life so far (like my own personal, internal plague) and stopped doing anything but my coursework, this ban on joy also included listening to music. However, as I begin to leave the haze of the past 8 months I'm yearning for sound, specifically sound that makes me happy - when was the last time I was happy: 2023. Therefore, I shall be listening to every single thing I can get my grubby paws on from the year of our lord.