Artist: Bardo Pond
Album: Dilate
The first section of this piece - guitars slowly pulling together, pushing into chords which slowly become more confident. A violin that just hangs in the air, like smoke from a cigarette on a frozen winter’s night which may have been exhaled ten minutes earlier, the user long gone. The feeling of being exhausted with nothing more to give, completely sapped of all strength.
Then at 3.04 a heavy guitar enters, slowly pulling this mess of sadness together in what is not a feeling of strength but sad acknowledgment of unity. Sonar like guitar bubbles push upwards, away from this heaviness that is weighing everything down. At 3.51 a distortion pedal flattens everything, the sound is that of pure molten lava, consuming everything in its path, rolling down slowly, obliterating all that stands before it. The drums seem to be the sound of collapse as it all falls away. A few loud bass and guitar notes strike up towards the end, like smoldering crackles of wood that is buried amongst the embers of a fire.
This piece to me contains a sadness which is overwhelming and suffocating. It is almost the audible version of being buried alive, layers and layers of oppression pushing down, suffocating, nowhere to go. The title and music also remind me of the excruciating tragedy that occurred later in the year after “Dilate” was released and the unfathomable sadness accompanying this.
No comments:
Post a Comment