The inherent danger with the ‘experimental’ genre is that it attempts to leave behind any and all of the normal trappings of music. The riff, the cool beat, the hook, the melody. When experimental music soars, it abandons all technique and tries to bring about an emotional response more through atmosphere than anything else. There are no traditional handholds to help scale this sheer wall. The band, or solo performer, just jumps in with both feet. The response can be fascinating, as with Japanese noise artist Aube. It can be a sense of self-exploration as with the Swans, or just a look into more interesting and moving structures, e.g. L’Efance Rouge. Still others look to outline a journey, to pull us through the mind’s eye into something they’ve created, but we can still call our own.
Terrestrials, the new collaboration from American doommetal legends Sunn O))) and Norway’s black-metal-turned-chamber-music ensemble Ulver, opens multiple doors for a journey, but never dictates terms. How much you enjoy Terrestrials, really comes down to how you interpret it. I saw it as cinematic, especially the opening section “Let There Be Light”, which comes across as an overture to an old monster movie, and a deconstructed film noir score. Sitting down to experience this album I urge you, before anything, to listen with headphones. The nuances and connections of Terrestrials cannot really be felt through speakers.
Next is “Western Horn”, the middle movement and, by far, the weakest. There is nothing inherently wrong with the section, it just cradles itself rather timidly in what you’d expect from Sunn O))) and Ulver. The feedback is prominent, sounding a lot like a pissed off fly. Random percussions bounce around, while a slightly distorted array of instruments buzz in and out. “Western Horn”, on its own, is a fine slice of what we know these bands do so well. The problem is that it’s sandwiched between two movements that go beyond the expected. In the standard arena of experimental music, “Western Horn” is exceptional, but against the rest of Terrestrials, it comes off like filler.
I tend to attach certain sounds to the ocean. “Eternal Return”, the final, near fifteen-minute movement of Terrestrials, brought me right to the sea. Sunn O))) and Ulver have created a brew of sounds that move like the water. Slowly rising with bells, horns, and tensely stitched bits of feedback, “Eternal Return” then reduces the mixture, and the sea is calm. Layered in swirling, tranquil soundscapes, there is also something sinister happening just behind “Eternal Return”. It’s elusive, which is both hypnotic and unnerving. Halfway through, keyboards and vocals move into the picture, pushing “Eternal Return” down a path that involves John Carpenter themes, as well as Goblin. There is a horror-movie happening within the last half of this movement. At least that’s how I saw it.
This brings back the concept of how much you enjoy Terrestrials, will depend on how you interpret it. What’s so wonderful is that music is complex and layered, but primal enough to operate as a vessel for your own trip. While the second movement may not be as original as the other two, Terrestrials remains exceptional. Not just a great piece of music, but an important one. This record is a statement from Sunn O))) and Ulver, one that will inform experimental music for years to come.
