"There is a narrative to follow on this album, one that evokes the exploration of human grief and hope, but as it exists across our species rather than as experienced by a single person."
In the last 50 years, a growing number of imaging satellites have taken high-resolution photos of every angle of the Earth. Some photos are of brightly-lit deserts, others shadowed by twilight. You might not know we exist in the photos except for the twinkling of cities that house millions of people.
On Brutal Soil, We Grow, Markus Guentner expands on the vastness of his previous album Black Dahlia, but more emotionally focused than before, even shaping a narrative out of boundless soundscapes. It is a reminder of the vastness of these satellite images, the vastness of time and of space, of what came before our first memory and what comes after the last.
In each of these pieces, there is harmony. Some moments choose not to challenge you so much as bathe you in light, while others approach the tonal clouds that a György Ligeti piece might have – not chaotic, but orbiting it.
In the same way astronauts have experienced “the overview effect” (a kind of heightened state of realization about our existence) when they see Earth from a distance for the first time, we too have begun to experience an existential paradigm shift through these satellite images, through an ever-expanding view of our lives, of humanity and its fate. Our attempts to bound Infinity in our minds is an impossible task, but it’s a kind of spiritual practice.
Similarly, On Brutal Soil is a spiritual exercise. There is a narrative to follow on this album, one that evokes the exploration of human grief and hope, but as it exists across our species rather than as experienced by a single person.
“The Future Behind Us” opens as one of the more “choral” pieces, evoking an almost cathedral-like embrace. It feels like the telling of a story passed down through generations. There is an almost parental quality to it, that feeling of wanting to wrap your child in warmth while knowing full-well that they will live a life like all others, a life that is not without suffering. And we see many sides of the struggle of our humanity like this on the album.
“A Place Between” is a continuation of these choral tones, albeit more icy. Even without words, even through the limitlessness of this music, a feeling comes through. “Weltschmerz” (meaning “world pain”) has an orchestral, string-like aura to it. While certainly not representative of the album’s bleakest parts, it foreshadows a descent into those moments. It is the first rendering of the graveness of this album.
“The Silver Path” is again a return to the human voice, this time backed by what sounds like a giant church piano bellowing forth major chords while an overdriven lead soars above it all. The album takes several sharp turns of emotion, and this is one of them, a turn toward hope, toward the belief that there is a justice to the world that will right the wrongs.
On “Whispers in Nebula”, the surf of an ocean can be heard washing up. It’s another turn inward, a bit of respite from the previous track, a moment where we can examine our existence, like looking up at the stars and wondering what it’s all about.
Around the corner of this piece is maybe the sharpest bend of it as we go into the latter half of the record. From here, we step into some dark places. “Sprawl” evokes a similar kind of surf, except perhaps imagining it as blistering magma bubbling up on the sun’s surface. While other pieces on the album are harmonically straightforward, this piece trembles forth like it was written by Ligeti. It would sound right at home in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Similarly to “A Place Between”, a familiar coldness can be heard on “With No System Of Law”. From here on out, each piece is more serious than the last. “What Lies Ahead” bears the weight of a world on the brink of total loss, of societal collapse. It’s arguably the least hopeful of the tracks.
By the time we arrive at “Wall of Thorns”, we are in that final place of struggle. It’s elevated in spirit from the prior track, and it puts up a fight. The piece has an almost metallic quality in how it rings. In the penultimate moments of this track, we experience the climax of the album, the brightest moments of the nearly 50 minutes of music.
‘On Brutal Soil, We Grow’ is scheduled for release 30th January via Affin. Order a copy from Bandcamp.
TRACKLIST
1. The Future Behind Us
2. A Place Between
3. Weltschmerz
4. The Silver Path 04:31 video
5. Whispers In Nebula
6. Sprawl
7. With No System Of Law
8. What Lies Ahead
9. Wall Of Thorns