For ten years, the experimental, blackened drone outfit Locrian have revelled in being a difficult entity to find down. Equal parts flesh and fire, metal and smoke, the textures shift between states of solidity, eternally difficult to hold but always capable of deep wounding. Infinite Dissolution is their most cogent, cohesive record to date, but the sense-making is all conceptual; aurally speaking, it still boils and burns, slashes and soothes with virulent unpredictability.
While 2013's Return to Annihilation was all about the erasure of the ego, an internal, intimate kind of destruction, Infinite Dissolution is on a much larger and more permanent scale: it's all about the extinction of humanity. Exploring the idea of what the world would be like if the spaces we have wrought were suddenly empty of us, the record echoes and crashes like an abandoned cityscape. "Dark Shales" is full of an overwhelming, towering loneliness, while "The Great Dying" throbs like a lost cathedral. Infinite Dissolution is full of haunted love songs between a fallen city and the ghosts that inhabit it; it fills a void that I never knew existed until this unsettling, aching sound poured in.
(Relapse)While 2013's Return to Annihilation was all about the erasure of the ego, an internal, intimate kind of destruction, Infinite Dissolution is on a much larger and more permanent scale: it's all about the extinction of humanity. Exploring the idea of what the world would be like if the spaces we have wrought were suddenly empty of us, the record echoes and crashes like an abandoned cityscape. "Dark Shales" is full of an overwhelming, towering loneliness, while "The Great Dying" throbs like a lost cathedral. Infinite Dissolution is full of haunted love songs between a fallen city and the ghosts that inhabit it; it fills a void that I never knew existed until this unsettling, aching sound poured in.