Beneath A Steel Sky have just released their debut album 'Cleave', and with this release, the band have crafted something much more than your typical album. Rather than treating it like an album listen through, you should think of it more like a river of sound flowing through peaks and valleys, carrying you along for the ride, with a gothic atmosphere underpinning it all. ‘Cleave’ is truly unique.
The subtlety of the instrumentation is quite brilliant. There are jazzy hints of Miles Davis’s ‘Birth of the Cool’ and ‘Milestones’ lingering at the outer edges of the sonic profile, creating a darker, more drawn-out feel within the music itself. For example, ‘The Sky Above The Port Was The Colour Of Television, Tuned To A Dead Channel’ and ‘Vanguard’, two excellent tracks totalling just under 10 minutes in runtime, feel more like a jam session than two separate structured songs. This intro to the album opens your ears up to the amazing creative work on display, as the free-flowing nature of the music thrives on this reckless, almost avant-garde level of spontaneity.
This avant-garde approach continues in ‘Everyone You’ve Ever Known’, which carries a strong Opeth influence throughout its duration. The delicate and precise nature of the guitar playing is actually quite understated, and there’s an element of almost reluctant catharsis to it, especially in the choruses. The more melodic, Cure-like undertones build towards something harsher, darker, and more malevolent as growling vocals and powerful, theatrical guitars emerge, culminating in something truly cathartic in the shape of ‘Quetzalcoatlus’.
‘Quetzalcoatlus’ is a slow, proggy, somewhat doomy number where the band begins to flex their musical muscles. The Gojira-esque vocals hit full pelt, with the sheer ferocity of Greg Armstrong’s voice doing its utmost to melt the skin from your face. This melds well with the progressive-doom feel of this part of the record, further enhanced by the production quality. While the overall production is fantastic, special attention has obviously been paid to the direction of this stage of the album.
This attention to detail bleeds into ‘The Infinite Silence That Follows The Absolute Truth’, a slow, somewhat acoustic instrumental. While it serves little purpose beyond setting up ‘Cyclical Dunt’, it still has several highlights—the guitar work, for example, is excellent. Around the five-and-a-half to six-minute mark, we’re treated to back-to-back solos, as well as what has now become Armstrong’s textbook growls. ‘The Infinite Silence That Follows The Absolute Truth’ acts as a refreshing interlude, balancing the harsher and more melodic elements showcased up to this point.
This flawlessly paves the way for ‘Cyclical Dunt’, which feels like the moment the entire album has been leading up to. Intricate yet seemingly simple melodies flow like water, and the best part is that everything that has come before is now at full capacity: the soft jazzy avant-garde undertones, the proggy-doomy riffs, and the epic, emotional growls all crystallise into one awe-inspiring moment of sheer musical catharsis. It is the album’s highest point.
Finally, ‘The Becoming’ is a soft, haunting, eight-minute-long Viking-esque battle song. Eerie and gothic, it has the feel of a long, winding road—a slow burn, to be sure, with a deep introspective slant. 'The Becoming' is quite clearly the band’s last hurrah, albeit in a melancholy, avant-garde, esoteric kind of way—a perfect note to end on.
Words: Frankie J. Jupiter
Photos: Beneath A Steel Sky
Comments