Darkness hangs over everything. Every day feels like a different means for self-torture, or you can ignore everything that’s going on and pretend all is OK. Pain has become a regular presence in our lives, and we’ve seen people we love go away and even of ways of live be under constant threat. How can one not lash out?
Josh Hines, the artist behind black metal beast Starer, is choosing to express his frustration in a productive way through his art. The project’s new full-length “Ancient Monuments and Modern Sadness” is one of the most obviously agitated to date on the surface and deep in its guts. It’s a punishing, storming, chaotic adventure through tumult, loss, longing, and lingering pieces of the past. It hammers from the first moment, continues its onslaught, and never takes its foot off your throat until the final second. All Starer music has been captivating, but this one is the next level in intensity.
“I Cry Your Mother’s Blood” rushes at you, leads gushing as Hines’ shrieks separate flesh from ribs, the storming force only gathering in strength. The title is shrieked over a verse, and its intent darkens you, the savagery crushing before a glimmering end. “Il-Kantilena” blasts in, the vocals wrenching, the playing melting into cold tributaries before the temps rise suddenly. Guitars slash with violence, an atmospheric pocket joins and rains ice blades, and the shrieks mangle, everything consumed by mist. “The Field of Reeds” has sweltering riffs that smother, a chugging, thrashing pace that makes your adrenaline pump, and a force that breaks wills. The playing turns sinewy, synth basking over frigidity, regal chaos spreading and succumbing to devastating strikes. “Immortality of Writers” opens with guitars hovering like a darkened cloud, synth lightening, and then a tornadic pace opening its jaws to consume. Beastly wails strike as the playing bends and warps, melody gliding and swarming, stirring into a blaring finish.
“So, You Traitor” starts with the bass coiling, darker guitars dripping ashy moisture, and then a black metal gust dislodging the foundation. The fury bellows as guitars sting, mangling relentlessness rushing before mesmerizing. “In the Place of Truth” slips in, guitars melting as synth lasers lather, fog accumulating before clouds open and drench. The vocals crush as the playing lets freezing air chill your flesh, slipping into mystery as shrieks blur reality, and immersive power causes pressure that nearly claims your consciousness. “Song of the Harper” lures you in with guitars creating pathways, howls snarling, and then the tempo cooling a bit, letting your wounds have a moment for repair. But it’s not long before the gates are torn down, the howls consume, and the synth clouds your mind, blackness spilling into your soul. Closer “Lie Around My Neck” runs 10:37 and makes good use of every moment, guitars echoing as the shrieks rain, drama accumulating and making your heart race. Clean signing adds a different element, synth pumps and creates majesty, and everything surges and pulls in exciting new directions. Chimes echo as it feels like the cosmos is surrounding you, steely riffs vibrate, the singing flows into synth pockets, and reverberations heads off into the stars, you pulled from your dream by a dog barking. Perfect way to end any record!
“Ancient Monuments and Modern Sadness” is another explosive chapter of Starer lore that is punishing and spellbinding, each track leading you into the next chapter seamlessly, your emotions running on high. In a world swamped with black metal, it’s hard to sift the waters for the really good stuff, which Starer is for sure. This is a thunderous, volcanic album musically and emotionally, and its force can be felt well after the final second of music has expired.
For more on the band, go here: https://starer.bandcamp.com/
To buy the album, go here: https://starer.bandcamp.com/album/ancient-monuments-and-modern-sadness-2
Or here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/
For more on the label, go here: https://snowwolfrecords.bandcamp.com/
And here: https://fiadh.bandcamp.com/
