The world is in decay. The garbage and waste of humanity blows across highways crumbling in disuse. The sun is choked out by smog, only showing through in streaks of sickly gold and brown. Buildings flake paint and concrete like the last pollen desperately fleeing a wilting flower. Humanity is on its way out, slowly dwindling and growing increasingly resentful of itself. Little time remains. And yet, somehow, there’s a catharsis in knowing that end is near. Maybe, just maybe, the world will persevere and even flourish in man’s absence. It’s a harrowing image, and it is one perfectly conjured up by End Terrain, the latest album from Locrian.
Locrian is a band I have a strong but incomplete appreciation for. There’s still a number of their albums I need to try out in general, and the recent New Catastrophism was a great album I didn’t give enough time. But their 2015 album Infinite Dissolution still stands out as one of the best experimental rock albums I’ve ever stumbled across. That evocative lattice work of noise rock, post-metal, shoegaze, and synth with a bleak subtext of black metal made for a thoroughly arresting listen that has yet to lose its shine. As such, when Locrian announced End Terrain as a proper follow up to that specific album, expectations were huge. And End Terrain does not disappoint.
Interestingly, Locrian decided this time to craft an album that is much more song-oriented. The extended builds of past works are still there, but they’re not nearly as common. Hell, some of the songs here are actually downright catchy in their own way, and that was never a phrase I would have applied to Locrian in the past. To make up for the trimmed runtimes, the songwriting here tends to be more dense with active than the band has shown before, with complex musicianship taking a bigger lead.
Songs like “Chronoscapes” and “Excarnated Light” in particular feature guitar lines that would almost call to mind math rock, while “The World is Gone, There is No World” repeatedly stops and reboots its intensity with start-stop approaches in the back half that demand the listener’s attention. Add to that the bipartite structures of “Utopias” and “Black Prisms of Our Dead Age” and the ambient drone of “Umwelt” and “Innenwelt”, and you have an album full of variety. And yet, it’s extremely cohesive.
I daresay the biggest wow factor that End Terrain has going for it is how well every approach the use bolsters the apocalyptic, yet soothing atmosphere that ties the album as a whole together. The vibe is dense and unbroken, be it during the synth fanfare of “Utopias” evoking drab cityscapes, the aching despair in the soaring guitar lines of “The World is Gone, There is No World”, or the way in which “Black Prisms of Our Dead Age” weaponizes its surprisingly stoner rock mood to paint pictures of barren wastelands. “Excarnate Light” and “Chronoscapes” are drenched in a longing, bittersweet radiance of synth and driving guitars feeling like acceptance of the approaching end. And the way the electronic throb and stabs of feedback that drive “In the Throes of Petrification” dies out to be replace by the surprisingly bright, uplifting feeling of “After Extinction” is an emotional punch in the gut. End Terrain is just powerful, and there’s not a moment wasted or out of place to puncture the feeling Locrian has crafted here.
Of course, the performances of the band are pristine throughout. The guitar textures in particular are a stand out, with multiple earworm riffs woven into many songs while leads redolent of post-rock constantly tug on the heartstrings. The synths constantly push things along, whether emerging as regal centerpieces of the songwriting or just as an electronic haze breathing life into the rest of the song. The drumming is consistently tasteful and impressive, and the vocals are absolutely harrowing in true black metal fashion (besides the more hushed, melodic singing in the back half of “Utopias”). Really, no single element is a misfire.
With every additional play, some part of End Terrain shines brighter and hits harder. It’s hard to not just give over to hyperbole, because this album is masterful. Locrian already proved themselves as an excellent band, but the sheer catharsis that this album evokes just leaves me stunned. It’s devastating, bitter, and yet somehow uplifting at all times, and I don’t anticipate many albums hitting me harder this year. Time will tell if this actually does end up my favorite Locrian album, since I do have some older albums to visit, but if this is their peak, it’s an excellent one they should be proud of. For now, I don’t foresee any way this won’t end up somewhere on my AOTY list come December. They set out to write a soundtrack to a slow apocalypse, and End Terrain damn well succeeds in the finest fashion. Sometimes, there’s a comfort in embracing the end despite the pain, and Locrian evokes that perfectly.
Artist Photo by Elena Volkova
