Everyone's favorite experimental folk doom guitar duo return with their fourth full-length. Following in the wake of their spectacular and majestic Popol Vuh-like "Shadowland," the duo of Evan Caminiti and Jon Porras sound restless and energized throughout "Lost In The Glare." The addition of more drums and percussion throughout helps ratchet up the tension, making for a beefier sound that colors even the tracks that don't feature smashing cymbals and plodding dirge beats. As a result, there is a consistent heaviness here that makes for a more menacing album than anything these guys have done before, which is saying something. All in all this is Barn Owl's most dynamic record to date.
To that end, there is also a healthy injection of middle-eastern and Persian-influenced guitar work that characterizes the record. While drone has always played an important part in Barn Owl's music, those moments of static cosmic bliss are fewer here, instead strings interplay with organs in a dance of desert mysticism that finds transcendence through communal motion rather than solitary meditation. As a result, the record exudes a heat and sensuality that I would have never attributed to Barn Owl before. It's a perfect record for keeping things warm inside, even as winter's winds threaten to batter down your door.
Barn Owl are known for producing some of the finest doom drone work this side of Southern Lord. Last year's cinematic "Ancestral Star" was easily one of the year's best. For "Shadowland" the band returns with an ep that may actually be the duo's best work to date. Even though echos of Popul Vuh and Earth break through these three dense and desolate pieces, this is the band's most unique and original sounding recording so far. Also, whereas in the past nearly every Barn Owl record seemed to soundtrack blasted apocalyptic western landscapes, "Shadowland" has an almost cosmic vibe, like a soundtrack to a sci-fi film set in outer space that is full of existential dread. The only drawback here is that once the ep comes to a close you will wish the group had developed this into a full album, as it leaves you wanting more time in deep space.
"Ancestral Star" is a doom-drenched Earth-indebted soundtrack for one of the most powerful, epic and mesmerizing films never made. The album paints a journey through a scorched-earth hellscape that ends as heroically as it does horribly. "Ancestral Star" is a submersive listening experience that makes for the most fully-realized Barn Owl release to date and is one of this 2010's precious few essential releases for fans of experimental, drone or doom. Full review here.
Some albums drip doom. I'm not necessarily talking doom-metal either, I'm talking those records with a sense of foreboding that impart a feeling of dread and impending demise. Sunn 0)))'s "White 2" comes to mind, as does William Fowler Collins "Perdition Hill Radio." Both records take you to a wasteland at the end of the world, where the last man standing won't be for long. They are the kind of records that tell a powerful story of death and rebirth and probably more death, painting pictures of desolation in your mind's eye with hardly a word. Barn Owl's third album "Ancestral Star" is one of those records.
The album opens with "Sundown" a massive slow and crushing guitar piece reminiscent of Sunn 0))). Unlike that duo, this duo miniaturizes their assault, and after having set the tone quickly brings the song to a close in just over a couple of minutes. It's an effective move, because rather than linger on a single static shot like Sunn 0))), Barn Owl have a widescreen epic to unravel, and once "Visions of Dust" kicks in, we know we are already in scorched earth territory. It's that territory that our protagonists crawls across on the Earth-infused "Visions." I have compared Barn Owl to Earth before, but that isn't entirely fair, because whereas Earth have increasingly grown into some sort of country-blues doom band, Barn Owl incorporates those elements into something much more sinister. "Visions" will remind you of Earth, but the stakes for survival are much higher here. Even on the more minimalistic "Night's Shroud" that mimics Dylan Carlson's slow meditative guitar picking, there is a more immediate threat implied in the band's dark note progression.
The first couple of moments of the album's title track offers one of the record's only bright spots. A subtle but slightly shimmering drone which actually sounds like what you would think a star sounds like looking at it from earth begins the piece, and momentarily offers solace, but only momentarily. Eventually a darker more ominous guitar drone builds overtaking any sense of peace and beauty the song promised, before receding and leaving only echos of each previous drone. In listening to the final minutes of the track, one can imagine elements of light and dark fighting in the distance of space, but it's pretty clear who will win that battle on "Ancestral Star."
One of the album's strongest points is that while it contains a number of shorter tracks the record plays as a whole (unlike most albums of this sort which typically offer up three to five length meditations there are ten tracks here with only three of them approximating any real length). It's like a soundtrack where each piece leads into the next as the narrative develops. Because there is character development and many subplots, Barn Owl splits up their vision across the ten tracks here, rather than focus solely on a singular event in a long form doom-drone exercise like Sunn 0))) often does. As a result "Ancestral Star" is one of the richest and most epic records in some time, with many incidental moments to explore and ponder.
Of course, as with any album of this type, the story must come to a close, and the band sets the climax in motion on the powerful "Awakening." Blending acoustic guitar, violin and harmonium the band slowly but surely brings the record toward it's doom-ridden denouement that finds our protagonist preparing to make his last stand before falling into the abyss of death. "Incantation" seems to suspend that moment in time with a harmonium drone, subtle percussive effects and vocals that call to mind a monk's chant. When finally the moment arrives with "Light From The Mesa" it is blistering. Tremolo guitar plays over a continuous doom-drone, while notes are plucked adding yet another layer in the band's depth of field. Once all is said and done, the guitars drop back to a single powerful slowly picked motif, while drums make a rare appearance marking the march of death. The band breaks up that march with massive slabs of riffage and disembodied vocals before rolling the credits on what is ultimately Barn Owl's most satisfying and full realized record to date. "Ancestral Star" is a must have for fans of doom, experimental and dark ambient, and is easily one of the best records of the sort I have heard all year. It is powerful, epic and mesmerizing.