It’s said by the label that this disc is inspired by “the life cycle of a tree,” and the obvious dig would be that at 59 minutes long, it’s mostly imitating a tree’s interminable lifespan. The representation of tree life cycles is mostly very dark here, with sludge metal signifiers – in the beginning, very repetitive chord progressions with layers of distorted and bowed guitar, and various heavily reverbed percussion interjections. Section VII is slower and less rhythmic, with sadly drifting bowed notes entering and leaving in almost classical fashion; it’s an interesting mixing in with a more abstract sound field. Bright plucked guitar enters in section VIII, with piano progressively driving section IX.
AOne interpretation here is that the dark, brooding music is somehow a representation of what a tree “sees” in its lifetime, i.e. human activity. As the sections pace onward, the suite seems to get more organized somehow, as if the tree is gathering wisdom or looking more and more forward to the next part of its life cycle. Or that the entrance of piano actually occurs after the tree’s death, and the brighter sections represent its decay or afterlife, as it were – which would be an interesting commentary on life and death per se. Either way, the sparseness of the final section (XIII) is an unmistakable hint at ultimate nothingness.
As with all Arachnidiscs releases, rendered and packaged with extraordinary devotion and craft.
