Thursday, 10 May 2012

In Mourning, The Weight of Oceans (2012)


Tracklist:

  1. Colossus
  2. A Vow to Conquer the Ocean
  3. From a Tidal Sleep
  4. Celestial Tear
  5. Convergence
  6. Sirens
  7. Isle of Solace
  8. The Drowning Sun
  9. Voyage of a Wavering Mind



The Weight of Oceans is the third full-length album of Swedish metalheads, In Mourning, and one which will undoubtedly maintain their reputation as one of the sharpest, technically gifted, and adept bands in the business.  The deep, tightly woven textures, cutting guitar melodies, and complex rhythms which brought their previous releases so much acclaim are ever-present. 

And now there’s more: melodious keys, strings, and synth all make cameo appearances, giving extra strength in depth to an already daunting array of musical talent.  Beginning with the rich, melodic Colossus, the album runs through several weighty numbers before reaching the song, Celestial Tear – to my knowledge, the only track In Mourning have yet written to only feature clean vocals.  The blistering tones of Convergence then give way to subdued melodies in the short, piano-based instrumental, Sirens.  Isle of Solace and The Drowning Sun return the music to more familiar waters, before the music ends to the moody and desolate tones of the final track, Voyage of a Wavering Mind.

All good, you might say, but such general observations do no justice to this record.  The Weight of Oceans is not just music: it is the sonic engineering of an apocalyptic soundscape, illustrating an epic poem played out in deep and complex lyrics.  The band calls it a “conceptual album”, and the cover image and lyrical references to a “coral giant” and “a constellation of stars embodied” will have horror fans scrabbling for their Lovecraft anthologies.  Yet this is no homage to the cthulhu mythos.  Instead, each song is used to weave the fabric of an original horror, which pitches the elements in battle on a cosmic scale.  In the course of the first three tracks, the main protagonists of this struggle are revealed.  The first, the ocean, is a dark, brooding mass.  This is the “Colossus” named in track 1, which reaches out to engulf all around it: “Destined to swallow the shore, the depths split the surface/Raised its cold hands to the sky to become controller of earth and wood.”  And it forms the basis to the nightmarish cthulhu-type monster featured in the album artwork: reaching to conquer land, the waters are embodied in “the coral giant”.  Standing up to the dark waters is the sky, darkened by night, but studded with stars.  This places the heavens in polar opposition to the oppressive darkness of the waters.  While the latter seek to “swallow” all in their path, a shining, starry sky offers clarity and truth: “…as red turns to black/The night illuminates the path” (track 2).

The two enter a cosmic conflict, described in track 3 as “a towering battle between the stars and the sea”.  And so battle erupts between the elements.  The sky unleashes rain – “the grieving heaven” – and the sea responds with its own fury – “Storm bursts out from the giant’s mouth”.  A dark, brooding monster waging war with its star-studded adversary.  This is no ordinary storm.  And it is not fought out in isolation, as a third character, “the hunter”, enters in track 3.  This final protagonist is brought into being by the violence of the storm – “A gathering to summon the dark hunter” – and is the embodiment of the tempestuous spark, “Bursting into flames” before reappearing, in track 5, again in the form of lightning: “Light climbing down, embodying the hunter”.  While this places the hunter in alliance with the starry sky, against the dark seas, he is a largely passive character, created by the struggle he witnesses.  Present with the storm, he plays no part, existing as a spirit-like observer, as the last line of track 3 proclaims: “Face to face, the hunter stared into the storm”.  What he hunts is clarity and wisdom amidst the oppressive depths of darkness.  In Mourning have adopted strong, biblical themes in their lyrics, which are dominated by themes of light and dark: the oceans, brooding and surly (“and darkness covered the face of the deep...”); the heavenly firmament, bringer of illumination (and therefore wisdom); and finally, “the hunter”, an embodiment of sudden and brilliant insight, born of the conflict between sea and sky, dark and light, good and evil.

All told, we’re a reptile and a piece of fruit away from the story of genesis.  But while this clearly isn’t an album about the weather, I also don’t think it’s an alternative retelling of the biblical creation myth, in the vein of Cradle of Filth’s 2003 concept album, Damnation and a Day.  Instead, In Mourning have constructed a poetic tapestry to tell their own, original tragedy.  This is a personal tale, starting, in track 1, with “a dream”, which awakens dulled senses, shaking the sleeping sky from its silence: “the spirits are awakening, losing hours to the ghost/And then the rain, it came crashing down”.  It’s a journey through the oppressive darkness, it’s urges revealed in track 2: “Sail away, mind made up to conquer the ocean”.  This is the dreamer’s attempt to escape from the oppressive atmosphere of the seas, whose dark, festering ignorance he has come to question – “Years and years tangled in affliction”.  In doing so, he seeks direction from the heavens, which offer up guidance and a vessel, despite their own darkened state: “The day the sun forgot to shine, the stars carved something out of the sky/A wooden gift to a haunted heart, for a distorted mind the tide will turn”.  This is not an easy journey, however, and the slow melodies of the fourth track, Celestial Tear, reveal the dreamer’s longing for reconciliation with the oppressive world he has sought to break from: “If you were blind, if we were blind, could we then have been much closer?”; and then, “If you were close, if we were close, would we then have been much blinder?”  “If we were only memories from other times”, mourns the dreamer.  If only.


As this “haunted heart” sets sail across stormy seas, “the hunter”, revealed as flashes of lightning, comes to embody the ingenious spark of clarity and wisdom the dreamer craves.  In track 5, the dreamer’s consciousness seeks to rouse him, demanding “Wake up son, the storm is over”, before offering words of warning against slipping back into the incomprehension he seeks to escape: “Don’t let yourself slumber in the arms of the frail”.  The dreamer is urged open his mind, “With fire to open the eyes of the hunter”.  “Rise”, the chorus finishes, calling on the dreamer for strength to escape his confines, “before you crumble under the weight of oceans”.  But the dreamer cannot prevail.  Track 6, Sirens, is a sombre, instrumental tribute to the mythical temptress which lured seafarers off course and onto rocks.  And when the lyrics return in track 7, Isle of Solace, they reveal a shipwrecked voyager hauling himself onto dry land.  “Slither ashore”, he is commanded, “on new found soil”.  But the soil is no paradise, giving only “illusionary shelter, an island in a dream of solace”.  Weak and self-doubting, it cannot withstand the grip of the dark oceans, from which “Arms shot like towers through the foam and the waves/Surrounding and closing in, pulled under and torn deep”.

In track 8, the dreamer finds his quest ruined, “Stranded again without memories, not knowing where, not knowing how”.  His failure is the failure of light everywhere, as the “ocean haunted mind” for the last time seeks inspiration from above.  “Tired eyes gaze to abandoning skies”, where only “A faded star appears, hanging by the silent horizon”.  “And the sun fell from the sky”, we are told; “left faith flickering in a nebulous end”.  The dream has failed, all clarity and wisdom extinguished: “Hope died”, mourns the poem, “the day the sun fell down”.  Track 9, Voyage of a Wavering Mind, concludes the dreamer’s lost cause, with a line for each for him, his guardian, and his foe:
           
Misguided unredeemed, mortal seeker of truth
            Cold and endless ocean, undefeated is this giant
            Star guider, a pathfinder cast into oblivion


These are extraordinarily subtle lines of poetry for metal.  But, not content with this, In Mourning then turn their skills to musically illustrating their epic.  And where others would have been tempted by cheesy, swashbuckling sound effects, this band use only their trusted instruments.  The music enters with a long synthetic drone (hints of a foghorn?), conjuring the image of still, moonlit waters which then shimmer to the rapid strumming of high-pitched guitars.  Rippling guitars again summon placid waters in the first bars of track 3, but stormy seas soon sweep the listener into the melee.  To the irregular beats of a chugging bass, power chords, and the splashes of cymbals, waves pummelling the sides of the dreamer’s vessel.  Melodies similarly serve their symbolic purpose, bright, high-pitched guitar riffs lighting up lyrical references to stars and fire, while the mournful piano of Sirens beckons the desolate sailor to his doom.  The only criticism that could be made is of the album's end.  Having sailed through raging seas and howling winds, been driven onto rocks to clamber onto deserted islands, the final minutes of music meander towards an indistinct and uninspiring climax.  But then, what could better depict the disappointment of a broken dream?

No less impressive is the band’s innovative use of vocals.  The most striking displays of vocal flexibility may be the use of clean singing, a previously minor feature of the music of In Mourning.  However, special mention has to be given to the interplay of the different tones of traditional, death metal vocals, the distinct sounds of which are interwoven to add further expression to the music.  In Mourning have two vocalists, both co-guitarists, Tobias Netzell and Björn Petterson, and they use them very well.  Netzell puts in his shifts mainly with low-pitched grunts, while Petterson provides rasping screams.  And the interplay between the two is nothing short of awesome: as A Vow to Conquer the Ocean rages into life, low rumbling growls summon howling winds and unfathomable depths, before the stars of the second verse shine down through Petterson’s impassioned shrieks.  In track 5, Convergence, another effect is achieved, as screams make their demands of the dreamer (“Wake up son…”), accompanied by grunted warnings (“Don’t let yourself slumber…”).  The final line of this sequence, both a warning and a demand, is shared between screams and growls: “Rise before you crumble under the weight of oceans”.

Moulding their work around a hugely ambitious and original epic poem, In Mourning have pulled out an absolute masterpiece, combining a wide variety of musical styles with other sounds and effects that simply defy classification.  The best – perhaps the only – way to really appreciate this album is to set aside a day with a stereo and a full sheet of lyrics.  Even so, gaining a full understanding of The Weight of Oceans is a mighty tall order.  If you’ve managed to keep patience with this review so far, you’ll notice it stopped being a review a long time ago, and became an essay.  But there remain so many more things that I could have said, and more still that probably never occurred to me.  And so, what of the album?  In Mourning have certainly conquered their oceans; the question is, can we?

Production: 5/5
Lyrics: 5/5
Album Cohesion: 5/5
Music: 9/10

Percentage Score: 96/100


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