Monday, 30 October 2017

52 Albums That Shaped My Life - #25

Cynic – Traced In Air
(Season of Mist, 2008)
Buy the album here

I can’t remember first noticing Cynic or even hearing them for the first time, but with Traced In Air I have reason to never forget them.  Existing somewhere in the space formed by an equilateral triangle between Tool, Mars Volta, and Gorguts, Cynic are sensually lush, at times complex, and powerfully melodic.  Traced In Air is equally effective patiently building sparse soundscapes or dynamically layering instrumentation in self-propelled, existential, proto-death prog.  It’s an album that completely changed my understanding of heavy music, the place of death metal style vocals in other settings, and the conceptual limits of lyrics in heavy music.

“The Unknown Guest” is a perfect example.  Rolling in on the faded-in, reborn rhythms of “Integral Birth”, laced with Sanskrit mantras, backed by vicious death growls, and bearing beautiful, transitional passages of delicate light in amongst the tightly packed riffing and fill-heavy drumlines of the verses, “The Unknown Guest” takes us on an exploration of how spiritual discovery can reinvigorate physical life.  “Adam’s Murmur” introduces yet more stylistic experimentation with near robotic vocals that contrast the chakras-inspired contemplation of man’s creation.  It’s a bold decision to express these ideas in such “synthetic” ways, but the delicacy of the delivery along with the balancing earthiness of the backing vocal allows the song to hit its mark.  “King of Those Who Know” also balances these synthetic sounds with clean guitar tones and death growls to produce an equally vicious and soothing take on spiritual awareness.  Stretches of layered vocals, rolling double bass drumming, and skilfully picked riffs pack the idea-filled verses and choruses to the brim in order that the near-empty bridge sections and lulls are near-necessitated moments of quiet contemplation.  The thoughts inspired by this music come thick and fast but Cynic also want to provide you with the space and time to consider how you’ve received them and how you might turn them back out in to the world.

Discussing individual tracks is difficult though as the enduring image of this record is of a musically and thematically unified concept of human existence deftly and confidently scrawled, like the light reaching from star to star in a night sky.  Much like Blast Tyrant from last week’s post, this is music that will have your head in the clouds, feeling weightless, carried away, and disappointed to have to come back down.  The light musical touch combined with the intellectual weight of centuries old philosophical thought creates a welcoming yet challenging expression of humanity’s place in the cosmos.  It simultaneously makes humanity seem insignificant in the scope of the universe yet intensely meaningful and unique.  Songs like “Adam’s Murmur” and “Evolutionary Sleeper” put contemporary humanity on a gigantic spectrum of evolutionary science while also acknowledging the philosophical and existential impact of spirituality and religious beliefs in our creation.  In delivering this balanced message, Cynic explore the full extent of their skills as musicians.  Each song is crafted from a diverse palette where little seems off limits.  Vocal distortion is frequently used alongside noteworthy guitar pedal combinations to create incredible audio effects that somehow feel organic and electronic at the same time, like the firing of synapses.  Paul Masvidal and Tymon Kruidenier trade clean vocals and death growls, and Amy Correia provides moments of gentle, background melody, while the guitars skilfully switch from delicate untouched tones to distorted metal brutality.  The rhythm duo of Sean Reinert and Sean Malone pack a lot of work in to short passages, providing attention-grabbing rumbling foundations, while also delicately accenting the quieter moments. 


Two of these quieter moments bookend the entire album.  “Nunc Fluens” and “Nunc Stans” are two interpretations of existence and the “eternal”: the former is the flow of time and there being no beginning or end, the latter understands that all things are now and that there is no past or future.  While Cynic may have intended something greater or more specifically spiritual with this structure, for me Traced In Air is a beautiful reminder of how we should listen to and experience music.  Much like the yoga that seems to have inspired “The Space for This”, the record is about channelling our focus, filtering out distractions, and giving our all to what we are experiencing now.  By giving ourselves completely to the moment, to the music, to the experience, we are closer to ourselves, more open to other possibilities, and ready to accept ideas that challenge our beliefs.  Heavy metal might not seem like the most likely place for this line of thought, but in embracing spirituality, science, simplicity, complexity, melody, and brutality Cynic have crafted an album that is all things at once, while somehow more focused than most other music.  Traced In Air teaches us that music can surprise, usurp established norms, and live on in how we approach and understand our existence. 


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