Let's get things rockin' rightaway then with a couple of albums released only this very year, as we take our first look at some Metal that has been
Roads to the north --- Panopticon --- 2014 (Bindrune Recordings)
I knew nothing about this band --- not even of their existence --- until Goofle introduced me to “Kentucky”, where the unlikely blend of Death Metal and Country really impressed me, and allowed me to listen to half an album that was screeching, roaring vocals with blindingly fast guitars (you know, Death Metal!) and the other half that was a fusion of Folk and Country. It certainly surprised me. Whether or not their latest album is in the same vein I don't know, but here it is, so let's have a listen to it.
There are only eight tracks on the album, but two of them are ten minutes long, one twelve and one thirteen, so it's still good value for money. As I found out with “Kentucky”, Panopticon is basically one guy, Austin Lunn, who does literally everything on the album: in addition to writing and arranging all the songs he also plays drums, guitars, bass, flute, banjo, mandolin, resonator guitar, Dobro, keyboards, samples and sings all the vocals. Don't you just hate multi-instrumentalists?
Seriously, he's one hell of a one-man-band, and if this is anything like the previous album it's gonna be special.
There's a great atmospheric opening as “Echoes of a disharmonic evening” brings in the sound of wind, footsteps, dogs or maybe wolves or coyotes baying, then a punching guitar and apocalyptic drums get the track going, racing along but still with what I can see as a sense of definite melody. There's a bestial roar from Lunn, like something primeval, but nothing further until we hit the second minute, then he's bellowing but the vocal range is so low it's more like an animal growl and I have no idea what the lyric is, or even if there is one. It's almost pure expression of pain or anger here, like someone roaring out their agony and frustration to a world that doesn't care. The guitar work is exceptional though, so much so that I can sort of overlook the vocal --- there's no way I could attempt to listen to it anyway, so it sort of fades into the musical mix. Janszoon I think it was once advised me to treat death vocals as just another instrument, and though that doesn't work every time, here I find it may solve my discomfort with such gutteral vox.
Breaking down into a really nice instrumental passage now in the fifth minute, then the roar is back, even more raw than before, and the music rises to meet it, savage and uncompromising. “Where mountains pierce the sky” shows the dichotomy that exists in this man's music. One moment he can be kicking out the stays on a nine-minute Death Metal rant, roaring at the world, next he's playing a soft flute and acoustic guitar in a folky laidback tune. Hard guitar joins in and we hear that roar begin to rise again --- well, this song is over twelve minutes: I didn't expect it to be all relaxing and acoustic! But even when it amps up, there's still something of the basic melody, some connection to what has gone before, so that it all sounds like part of the same song, and once you get used to Panopticon, the change is not as juddering and jarring as I originally found it to be when I listened to “Kentucky”.
Only halfway through the song and Lunn has packed so much in already you begin to wonder what can he fill the other six minutes and change with? But then there's a doomy bass and the tempo changes somewhat, slowing and becoming a bit more sludgy while the vocals fade out for now, letting him give vent to his musical talent solely. A lot of feedback and hammering drums set up a real crescendo ending in some sort of warbly effect on the guitar, leading into another guitar creating an almost Lizzy sound. Really! It speeds up again as it heads towards the end, and I must say it's been a while since I've enjoyed something like that, but it was incredible.
And there are six more tracks yet to go! In fact, the next three are all part of the one composition, apparently, going under the umbrella title of “The long road”, with part one being titled “One last fire”, and opening on, of all things, a banjo with some slide guitar in attendance, making you think that this is the latest Oak Ridge Boys album, and indeed as it continues into something of a Country hoe-down you're expecting the sudden change to electric guitar and raging vocal, but so far it ain't come. Fiddle now, squealing like a thing alive and the banjo gets faster, showing just how much talent resides in this one man. Absolutely superb. It's four minutes in now and the song runs for just under six, so I think it's safe to assume this is an instrumental.
Part two is called “Capricious miles” and comes in on rolling, crashing drums, bitter hard electric guitar and a roar from Austin, everything speeding up and careening along like an out-of-control big rig on the highway. Then somewhere around the middle it becomes a laidback almost acoustic ambient piece of music, with sound effects and a much slower tempo, as if Lunn is catching his breath, or allowing us to, before the next salvo. Something like violin (probably violin, since he plays the fiddle) smooths its way into proceedings for a moment and then casually wanders off, leaving us wanting more. And there is more: it's back for another short passage --- ghostly, ethereal, almost abstract in its beauty, and although there's another roar let out of Austin we end not as we began, slowly and serenely floating into part three.
“Sigh of summer” sounds like it should be a really relaxing, gentle piece of music, and indeed this is what we get, at least at the beginning. I have no idea how it's going to develop. Which is, I guess, all part of the fun and the attraction of this singular artiste. You quite literally don't know what you're going to get, from one minute to the other, never mind track. But so far it's lovely and low-key, with soaring, lush keyboards and gentle guitar, slow soft percussion and thus far anyway no vocal. Spoke too soon: three minutes in and the drums have begun to hammer with energy and passion, and the growled, roared vocal is back as the electric guitars kick in full throttle. Somehow, at this point, it's not unexpected nor even unwelcome, just part of the great tapestry Austin Lunn is weaving here with expert precision and the vision of a true artist.
Three minutes later we're into a real rock-out boogie with a sweet bass pattern driving it, Lunn singing whatever it is he's singing with gusto and punctuating his indecipherable vocals with a fiery solo, and before we know it the whole trilogy is over and we're listening to another little laidback tune, as “Norwegian nights” gives us a rare chance to hear Austin actually sing in a normal voice, and he really can sing! Sorry, that's disrespectful. What he does on the rest of the album is of course singing, not just noise, but this is the first time I've been able to really appreciate his voice, and it's nice to know he can sing “normal” too. A lovely little tune, very acoustic, with guitar, violin and mandolin all playing a part, then revelling in irony, “In silence” begins with the sound of a train then explodes into one of the noisiest drum attacks I've heard to date. It's just like an earthquake must feel, and notwithstanding what I said above earlier, it is a little off-putting, as I had not expected this much of a shock.
The track is nearly ten minutes long so I hope it doesn't all go on like this, but knowing Lunn there'll be a change at least before the end. His ragged vocal comes in now as the music settles down a little, on the way towards the third minute. There's what sounds like a chanted backing vocal now too, but I have the feeling it's just his own voice multi-tracked, as he doesn't seem to work with anyone else. Now the guitar goes wild, cutting loose like a thing alive and savage before it settles into a sort of Sabbathesque riff which in turn becomes a slow, stripped-down blues one. But that doesn't last and we crash out of the song the way we began, with thundering drums and snarling guitar, Lunn roaring all the way.
The closer is a twelve-minute piece entitled “Chase the grain”, which opens with a sort of keyboard/violin medley while the drums hammer hard and fast in the backbeat, then a dark heavy vocal takes the tune, dragging it by the scruff of its neck into the third minute, where it undergoes yet another startling metamorphosis and becomes an introspective acoustic guitar passage with flute coming gently in to add its layer of sound with a slight amount of dissonance and discord, so that it always sounds just very slightly out of tune. Spooky. Things get heavy again as we hit the fifth minute, and the bellowing vocal destroys the moment of tranquility, though disturbingly the acoustic melody continues on in the background, giving a very surreal feel.
A tolling bell calls in flute as we reach the midway point in the song, strong guitar pounding in too and making the song sound somehow very dramatic as Lunn goes a bit wild on the vocal. Everything is building towards one final crescendo now as this stunning album draws to a close, one last barrage across the bows or even directly to the heart of the engine room before we're left with a typically low-key ending on acoustic guitar and banjo, and you can almost see, and feel, the knowing grin and the wink from Austin as he waves us farewell and goes back to his own inimitable world, where almost literally anything is possible.
TRACKLISTING
1. The echoes of a disharmonic evensong
2. Where mountains pierce the sky
3. The long road, part I: One last fire
4. The long road, part II: Capricious miles
5. The long road, part III: The sigh of summer
6. Norwegian night
7. In silence
8. Chase the grain
I have no idea whether this is a genre, subgenre or something totally unique, but in a way I'd like to think it's the latter, because I have never heard anything like this before. The mix of styles, the instrumentation, the ragged vocal and the occasional softer one, all parts of this amazing jigsaw that Austin Lunn has created and which continues to surprise, delight and at times dismay. Had it not been for my experience with “Kentucky” I feel I would perhaps have been drawn to this album's cover, liked the music but then as soon as the vocal cut in I would have hit the back button, deciding not to buy. I'm glad I chose otherwise.
I think I now need to listen to the rest of Lunn's catalogue, which should prove at the very least an interesting journey. For those of you who loved “Kentucky”, this is not quite the same but it's just as good. For those of you that don't know Panopticon, I urge you to do as I did and take the leap: it's quite a ride, and though you may be somewhat dizzy afterwards, I guarantee you will not soon forget it.