Myælin - Untrinaedah | xxiii (Self-Released)
Myælin don't fuck about. For a short while now, these jammy bastards have been cranking out triweekly explorations of their collective subconscious at a pace beyond even that of Garry Brents. Despite sharing an ethos of fuzzed-out, sludge-o-rama riffery, each of their many records has its own distinct character; Untrinaedah, make no mistake, is one of the most absorbing yet.
With an anthemic melody gripping the listener like a tentacle from the abyss, "Doomsayer" drags the listener straight into the zone somewhere between Oranssi Pazuzu's blackened dirges and Sleep's stoner grooves. It is a delight to hear the band firing on all cylinders from the beginning, and thanks to guest star Rob Martin’s additional percussion, their rhythms are exponentially more emphatic. When they do take the pedal off in a disorienting midsection, it is only to come back more malevolent and meaty, before the dual kits push the song into asynchronous collapse. Myælin's talent for making moody and slow-burning psychodramas (just listen to the monstrous opener on Naenonnaeun | xxiii) is prevalent across the remaining tracks. "Death Dada" is the most impressive, using duelling hi-hats, pulsating synth fields, and meandering guitar meditations to give the impression of a mystic funeral, erupting when the deceased dramatically kicks open the coffin. There is a fine line in song-writing between tension-building and tedium, but thanks to eerie electronics and hard-earned charisma, Myælin never bore – even in the record’s moody and spaced-out conclusion.
So many improvisational bands, particularly those in the realm of stoner-sludge, scrape the bottom of the barrel for unambitious vibe sessions
(not to mention terrible weed-based puns). That Myælin continue to impress with
their 39th album is quite the testament to their talent, vision, and
care. May their Sonick Trepanations drill ever deeper into our skulls!