If you jumped on the Six Organs of Admittance train too late, you likely missed the original vinyl issue of "The Manifestation." Released as a one-sided LP, this 22 minute track is a seething pulse of organic redemption. The whole piece plays out like a lost soul finding his way back into the fold. Like anyone who has wandered astray, searching out a new path of enlightenment, the answers are hard to come by. Ben Chasny's ability to craft this warm and inviting piece that is a mystical journey through lands far and wide is second to none. He is quite literally a master.
"The Manifestation" could just have easily been called "The Meditation." The effect is the same. With heavy whiffs of Eastern influence, Chasny explores the inner depths of someone who just wants answers. Most effective are the passages with vocals. It's like finding a connection to the long forgotten collective conscious you once felt a part of. Echoing vocals by Jennifer Juniper Stratford are reminders of a lost childhood and supressed, painful memories. As this track swirls around you (it is best experienced on headphones), you are transported through time to the desert. It's a trek for salvation. It's a search for the soul of the earth. Only Chasny could develop something so dense and moving, and it's affectiveness is powerful.
Near the end of "The Manifestation," rock bottom is finally achieved. Glacial drones flow underneath the chaotic highpitched scratches of a guitar. Tension builds and swells until it finally has no choice but to retreat. It's like emerging from your darkest days stronger, not beaten. The drone fades into inviting, solo acoustic guitar pickings. It's like a quiet celebration of your return. The group knew you'd come back, though you always had doubts. It's an indication that you'll relish life's moments more and everything will always shine brighter and taste sweeter. It's a perfect end to a beautiful and mesmerizng track.
This reissue isn't all about the title track, however. There's a second, newer piece entitled "The Six Stations" which features a spoken piece by David Tibet. This solo, instrumental acoustic piece is highly reminiscent of Chasny's recent "For Octavio Paz" album. It's understated, but gorgeous. Tibet's spoken word piece is a nice complement, but it's Chasny's playing that is the star. This track is comfortable. It's like all the places where the varnish on the bannister is worn; that's what makes this house a home. You wouldn't trade it for something sparkly and new in a million years. It reminds you that the simple moments are the best moments. Like the smell of cinnamon at Christmas and the sound of leaves falling autumn - things we take for granted, but things we'd never want to live without. This is an excellent piece and makes this reissue completely essential. 9/10 -- Brad Rose (25 May, 2005)