Agalloch - The Serpent & the Sphere might disappoint fans of Agalloch’s more seething output. This is the band’s gentlest and most lucid album to date, and the musical knots that characterized Marrow of the Spirit’s long tracks have been pulled apart like strands of yarn. But Agalloch have never aimed for simply being brutal or destructive. Instead, their sense of shock has stemmed from their ability to surprise with unexpected wormholes and complementary contrasts, to build rather than break. In that respect, The Serpent & The Sphere is their most refined and generous album to date, an elegant trip to unexpected ends, as Agalloch continue to find new ways to reassemble and reorder their long-standing tricks. They're as singular and instantly identifiable as they were on Pale Folklore, but The Serpent & the Sphere reveals a familiar Agalloch that you’ve never quite heard—evermore patient, risky and, mostly, free of fault.
We’ve come to expect most things in life will have a beginning and an end1, it’s logical and somehow comforting. Marrow of the Spirit had a logical beginning and end, but The Serpent & The Sphere defies logic; in fact it takes logic and force feeds it to itself. The beginning is, in fact, no beginning at all, while the end loops back onto the opening strains like a giant snake devouring its own tail. Much like the infinity symbol used in the albums artwork, the album traps you in an infinite, looping dose of Agalloch-isms. Does The Serpent & the Sphere live up to the hype of being “one of the most anticipated albums of 2014?” And will the album’s sense of infinity carry the “hope of Heaven or the despair of Hell?”
Read also Varg - Das Ende Aller Lügen (2016)
Disregarding “Birth and Death of the Pillars of Creation” for the moment, “(serpens caput)” or the Snake’s Head feels like the logical starting point of the album. Much like “They Escaped the Weight of Darkness” with its guest performance by cellist Jackie Perez Gratz (Grayceon), “(serpens caput)” opens to the delicate and writhing notes of guest neo-folk guitarist Nathanaël Larochette of Musk Ox. The track captures your attention by driving together a dreamy, shifting soundscape conjuring images of otherworldly meanderings set below Nathanaël’s delicate, post-rock inspired melody. Nathanaël’s melodic contributions re-appear in “Cor Serpentis (the sphere),” and “(serpens cauda)” or the Serpent’s Tail. The tracks all falling within the three-minute range, which for an interlude or transition could be considered lengthy, but within the The Serpent & the Sphere‘s infinity, their distinctive and gentle prodding is actually over pretty quickly.
The Serpent & the Sphere includes some charged crescendos, laser-sharp leads and two of Agalloch’s most direct rock ’n’ roll tracks ever. But its tone is relatively muted, as though leader John Haughm’s grand lyrical reflections on death and cosmic rebirth cast a temperate shade across the music itself. Three of these pieces are pensive, classical guitar miniatures, written and performed by Ontario musician Nathanaël Larochette and supported only by faint whispers of drones and noise. “Plateau of the Ages”, the 13-minute monster that precedes the fingerpicked closer, is an instrumental beauty, as radiant as the best work of Mono and triumphant as the heavy metal royalty its piercing twin guitars suggest.
John Haughm’s vocal style switches through a multitude of phases on this album, contributing more in an instrumental fashion or voice-as-texture rather than specifically as vocals. “The Astral Dialog” and “Celestial Effigy” give you healthy tasters of John’s blackened, raspy growl, along with his ghostly, narrated whispers that remind me at times of M. Lehto’s rasps (October Falls). What I do miss on this album though are John’s piercing screams from Ashes against the Grain‘s “Not Unlike the Waves.” It’s his wounded, passionate wail that most strongly draws me into Agalloch‘s world and the closest he gets are the final few moments in “Birth and Death and the Pillars of Creation”.
The Serpent & the Sphere rehashes many of the instrumental tricks and flourishes Agalloch delivered on earlier releases, but with less artful avant-garde quirk and embellishment. The majority of the album consists of post-rock style repetitive build-ups (“Birth and Death and the Pillars of Creation,” “Dark Matter Gods” and “Plateau of Ages” being prime examples) with subtle, barely noticeable changes here and there, culminating in lengthy subtly textured instrumental excursions that leave you unable to quickly distinguish one track from the next. If I were to give this texture a face I’d liken it to an endless expanse of brickwork.
Billy Anderson (Cloud City Studios and Everything Hz) is responsible for the mixing, mastering and production across various projects including Agalloch‘s Faustian Echoes EP, and he handled the recording and mixing here as well. This provides The Serpent with the same warmth and feel of Faustian Echoes with enough attention given to Nathanaël Larochette, but the hint of fuzzy blackened-DIY heard on Marrow doesn’t take hold here. Apart from production changes, I’ve noticed a marked shift in the dynamics across Agalloch‘s discography, with improved dynamics in play earlier in their discography — this troubles me in a band that relies heavily on subtleties.
Tracks
- Birth and Death of the Pillars of Creation
- (serpent caput)
- The Astral Dialogue
- Dark Matter Gods
- Celestial Effigy
- Cor Serpentis (The Serpent)
- Vales Beyond Dimension
- Plateau of the Ages
- (serpent cauda)
If you like it, please buy it on their official website/merchandise.
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