Style: progressive metal, alternative metal, math rock, jazz fusion (clean vocals)
Recommended for fans of: And So I Watch You From Afar, Rx Bandits, Via Luna, LITE
Country: France
Release date: 22 January, 2024
Progressive music, I think it’s fair to say, leans towards maximalism. Exceptions aside, the genre constantly demands more—more band members, more virtuosic talent, more instruments all playing at once climbing on top of each other to reach the listener’s ear. Balance is the key, though: while just the right amount of excess and intensity feels rich and decadent, unrestrained maximalist composition inevitably leads to overwhelming, indistinct layers of sound, obscuring the music’s technical excellence behind too many sound waves for two cochleas to process. Siljan, although not entirely maximalist (thanks in part to their math rock influences), have missed that critical balance point, adding questionable vocal contributions on top of already perfectly good jazzy math rock in a way that distracts from and undermines their tightly synchronized backing rhythms.
Let’s start by pondering the opening suite of songs whose titles will make people think you’re smart if you can work them into a sentence (even Google told me “incertitudes” was too fancy for my excerpt and I should pick a different word). The title track begins promisingly enough, with some hefty guitar licks and halfhearted alt-metal vocals; tension builds as more band members pick up their instruments, the volume increases, and backing rhythms become more complex; and then, around the three-minute mark, when all of this development should be reaching its climax, it plateaus instead, and we realize it was all for naught. What appeared to be a slow, deliberate ramp up to this mythical apex, a deliberate build and release of tension, instead was backed by no apparent plan or end goal. It’s all a bit Douglas Adams when you think about it. This structural failing isn’t helped by the integration of the vocal part, which settles vaguely over the other instruments like a fog, not really distinct enough to call direct attention to itself but thick enough to obscure the other elements which could otherwise come through crisp and savory.
This pattern repeats time and time again throughout Solastalgia, much like a math rock song’s habit of latching onto a particular rhythmic theme and copying it end-to-end until the phrase winds itself down (and in this case, the album ends). And in fairness to Siljan, their usage of such self-perpetuating segments represents the highlights of the album. “Incertitudes”, for example, begins with intricately woven rhythms from guitar, keyboards, and percussion, following patterns which at first might not seem to go together, but as they wind around one another, a unified texture coalesces. There’s something haunting about this filigree of guitar and drum parts, a hallmark of math rock which also stands out in the opening moments of “Teatime on Io” and the occasional recurring interludes of “Owls Orchestra,” a brilliantly ornamented backdrop to draw the ear’s attention and lay the groundwork for further development. Unfortunately, by the time the closing track rolls around, it’s past clear that no such development is coming. Even these interwoven backing instrumental parts sound run-of-the-mill and can no longer elicit the same excitement when set against their omnipresent companions of aimless composition and floundering vocals lost amid muddy tracking balance which leaves little separation between the parts.
With questions of musicality out of the way, I want to take a moment to explore the album’s concept and lyrics as well. The album title refers to the concept of “solastalgia, linked to mourning for what is already lost” (according to the album’s bandcamp page), and Siljan have applied this concept of nostalgic mourning to many of the ills of modern society. This leads to what I would consider deeply unsubtle, but still occasionally poignant, lyrics concerning climate change and “eco-anxiety, linked to what may happen or be lost”—an important topic, for sure, and along the way they touch on a wide array of subjects from transhumanism to intergenerational relationships and trauma. Although I don’t wish to be overly harsh on the lyricism of a band writing in English from a non-majority-English-speaking country (a task I could certainly not replicate better in any other language), I’m amused by the gulf of contrast between some of the most- and least-inspired lyrical passages. From “Teatime on Io” we get the lovely, cozy imagery of “Flying to Jupiter’s moon and coming back to teatime with me,” meanwhile “Hummingbirds” opens with the rather blunt “My heart is so sad / My eyes are so dry.” Tell me how you really feel!
Between the lightly jazz-inspired opening chords of “Tiredness,” the deeply layered sediment of math rock instrumentals, and the superficial vocals, there’s a lot going on throughout Solastalgia. A lot of it is even good! This potpourri is also the album’s greatest weakness, though. Too many parts of the mix (both in the general and technical senses) don’t fit together well or don’t feel effectively planned out to maximize the musical impact. Despite the real talent lurking here (especially in the guitar and percussion work), Solastalgia passes by in a blink and leaves little more than a surface impression of what just occurred. It’s a pity, because I think with a bit more time and effort dedicated to the project, Siljan have the potential to put together something really meaningful, provided they can bring it into sharper focus both musically and thematically.
Recommended tracks: Incertitudes, Teatime on Io, Owls Orchestra
You may also like: East of the Wall, Good NightOwl, Arhios, Sam Birchall
Final verdict: 5/10
Related links: Bandcamp | Spotify | YouTube | Facebook
Label: Independent
Siljan is:
– Jules Pelletier (drums)
– Elodie Jacquens (bass)
– Guillaume Arnaud (guitars, keyboards, vocals)
With guest:
– Alexandre Lezy (guitar solo, “Capitalocene”)
0 Comments