Review: Sleestak ‘Harbinger’
Somebody told me once that time is a flat circle…
OK, so that is a lie. It is a quote from the first and occult laced season of True Detective, Nic Pozalatto’s American anthology crime drama; but as the old hand of The Sleeping Shaman writing crew, it brings a moment of pause to think that I have been writing about Milwaukee based experimental doom band Sleestak for over a decade now.
Having produced two of my favourite records in that time, the last being 2020s epic (and to me their finest hour) Aeon which topped my pick of albums for that year, it seems that the band and myself are very much locked into a similar mindset about what heavy music could and should be. Originally finding inspiration in the ‘70s TV show Land Of The Lost, the band have continually evolved, adding elements of psychedelia, folk and prog to the Sabbathian might and cavernous riffing of their slow, heavyweight doom sound.
Somewhat notable for their unfortunate absence between 2013s’ Book Of Hours EP and their stunning fourth album, the arrival of Harbinger feels something of a shock, albeit a very welcome one. Whilst Aeon tempered the massive sound with esoteric experimentation that leant itself heavily towards nebulous paths opened up by the likes of Pink Floyd and The Doors, on the surface Harbinger sees something of a return to the crushing hammer on anvil blow of their earlier releases.
Opening with the Celtic flavoured folk sounds of the title track, the menacing riffing is overlayed with samples as it builds with the power of an old school Televangelist and opens up into a typically Sleestak-esque lumbering chug with the crashing drums of Marcus Bartell sounding clear and nuanced. The second track Obsidian Flow is awash with a heady atmosphere, punctuated with sharp hi-hat sounds.
Produced in house by the band in their favoured House of the Rising Sun studio, with the exception of the drums, it is interesting that they sit a little more in the mix adding poignancy to their strikes.
Matt Schmidt‘s distinctive vocals finally make an appearance in the form of a deep, sulphur choked growl and are some of the heaviest and darkest the band have recorded. As the song progresses, they finally introduce flavours of the sublime spacey prog rock prevalent on the last album. Heavy and otherworldly, the refusal to conform to expectation stretches this track into a pounding epic.
Early highlight and third track If introduces more familiar stoner overtones accented playfully by crashing cymbals. The hypnotic guitar work of Schmidt is underlaid by Dan Bell‘s bass that seemingly vibrates almost unnoticed through your very soul. Clean vocals drip with a mournful edge to counterpoint the almost death metal heavy bark giving the track an introspective and mournful air that grows into a blissed-out exploration with dizzying solos before they bring back the snarling aggression.
The hypnotic guitar work of Schmidt is underlaid by Dan Bell’s bass that seemingly vibrates almost unnoticed through your very soul…
The track meanders off on its own journey, but in a good way before the ballad like Song Of The Sea brings more experimentation. The dreamy, emotive vocals give nods to their influences like the aforementioned Pink Floyd or even touches of Dead Meadow.
Cutting through the calm with Northwoods, the guitar scythes into your consciousness with a jagged edge and this absolute monster of a track somehow strikes a balance between the heavy leanings and the swirling, rising touches that dominated Aeon. Introducing a cover of The Doors My Wild Love from their Waiting For The Sun album, Sleestack take the peyote fuelled chanting and turn Morrison and Co’s own conscious expanding trip into a sombre lament. No less shamanistic in tone, the stretched running time allows the band to add layers and their own stylistic changes before they drift off into out of this world wonderment which sets the tone for the back end of the album.
Maya heavily features keys and synth alongside a multi-layered ethereal vocal that elevates the track with a floating, hazy ‘vision from the other side’ feel that the band capture so well, before they effortlessly slide into a heavy jam.
Concluding with the weeping strings and breathless vocals of Collapse, the band end with a muted feel as the lush drifting is overlaid with a crackle that sounds like rain, ending with the diametrically opposed sounds of thunder and birdsong. Sleestak show that in addition to the poise and vision they have for their musical ambition, there is also a searching scope that has prevented them from becoming trapped into a furrow they can plough so very well.
Aeon was without doubt an album that I connected with at the time, maybe it was the perfect album to listen to at home during the pandemic, and as such Harbinger has taken more time to grow on me. But like all great music, it is a rich blend of subtleties that do not reveal themselves instantly. What I can assure you of, at no point in my time covering the band have they disappointed, and many years after the release of their stunning Fall Of Altrusia album, I was still finding elements seemingly for the first time and I believe their latest album is a gift that has only just begun to reveal itself.
Sleestak are here to explore, to ask questions in this world or beyond, unafraid to shed the skin of expectation and re-tread the path subtly, choosing different motifs and milestones to explore, like the cyclical history of their namesakes, making the journey as complex and untamed as the universe itself.
Like I said at the beginning, time is a flat circle…
Label: Altrusian Grace Media
Band Links: Official | Facebook | Bandcamp | Twitter
Scribed by: Mark Hunt-Bryden
