For all I know, what I’m about to say could be happening for more than I realize, but there will be a time pretty soon when mainstream radio will be artificially generated, and no one will know the difference. I don’t mean to shit on pop music, because you obviously need talent to create it, but it feels faceless enough that I think I’d be easily fooled.

Which takes us to avant-garde metal chameleons Kayo Dot, a project long helmed by Toby Driver that hasn’t even come close to making the same record twice. In fact, they sound like a completely different band every time out, and their stunning and wonderfully perplexing 11^th record “Every Rock, Every Half-Truth Under Reason” is no exception. Driver had AI on his mind when creating these songs, attempting to conjure something so bizarrely human that no machine could hope to duplicate it. To do so, Driver brought back members who played on the band’s debut record “Choirs of the Eye,” with this lineup containing Greg Massi (guitars), Matthew Serra (guitars), Jason Byron (voice), Sam Gutterman (drums, vibraphone, other percussion), Terran Olson (clarinet, flute, baritone saxophone, alto saxophone, Rhodes piano), and Timba Harris (violin, viola, trumpet). Like all Kayo Dot records, it’s a mind-bending experience, and it definitely is not designed for all audiences. Not even close. But it’s also very much the product of real people expressing genuine emotion and ability, looking at a murky, uncertain future.

“Mental Shed” runs 10:53, and it starts with strange howls and keys slithering, ringing out in a strange aura that exists beyond this plane. The playing is eerie and unsettling, with a constant racket trailing underneath the beast, crying out about being haunted by something phantasmal, the playing ringing into the dark and a sound bath. “Oracle by Severed Head” feels liquified at the start, with horns calling, the singing tracing a higher register, everything situated in fog as the keys grows jazzier and more tingly. A detached voice warbled as the brass melts, situated under shadowy guitars, the playing jolting as the strings scrape, the bass plods, and the drama peaks. “Closet Door in the Room Where She Died” has sounds swelling and manic screams, strings lathering as the feeling grows more deranged, unhinged moments weighing on you. The vocals lurch as the keys glow and quiver, howls snarling, psychosis creating strange visions, everything bleeding away.

“Automatic Writing” is the longest track here, running 23:06, and it really pushes you to the brink, dreamy lasers cutting through thick afternoon clouds. The guitars surge as the singing balances emotion, the sentiment feeling ashen and moody, the horns sweltering, the ghosts leaning into the misery. “You are the ocean, the brine of my tears,” Driver calls, guitars tangling as whispers spiral through your mind, oddly soothing at times, bubbling up and over the edge. Closer “Blind Creature of Slime” is punchy and active, growls and snarls flexing, jarring as the playing jangles, and the sax bustles. The pace drives as the guitars angle around bends, warm melodies providing a hint of comfort, whispers splashing, the playing chiming before melting away.

No Kayo Dot experience is the same as another one, or even close for that matter, and “Every Rock, Every Half-Truth Under Reason” might be the one that keeps most people at an arm’s length. That said, that’s the case for a lot of their music, and the challenging compositions, the mental duress, and the reimagining of what’s possible musically here makes this a record more ambitious listeners are bound to devour. There’s plenty to fear from the future, a lot of spirits pulling us backward, but as long as bands such as Kayo Dot are operational, the pathway forward can remain unpredictable, exciting, and human.

For more on the band, go here: http://www.kayodot.net/

To buy the album, go here: http://lnk.spkr.media/kayodot-everyrock

For more on the label, go here: https://en.prophecy.de/