Sonance

Like Ghosts is the debut from Bristol based Sonance, a band so disgustingly heavy that they are currently drowning the car alarm that's been going off in my street for the past half hour. Writhing with sickness and masses of doomed out symphony, Sonance curl around the psyche with a terrifying grip and their tightly woven structures spin out into different soundscapes at the drop of a note. From a deeply horrific beginning, the progression of "Side A" swells with both sadness and melody whilst hauntingly whispered vocals clash with droning spasms of noise. Like Ghosts consistently surprises in it's ability to turn from tremendous and weighty strikes to beautiful and melancholy gloom in the blink of a tear-laden eye, and Sonance are intensely heavy even in these more serene moments. 

Sludge-riven harmony infiltrates the latter stages of "Side A" and an uneasy claustrophobia bores down on the work with a tangible depression, the glitches of electronic movement fill spaces left behind by a husky and downtrodden voice and the clamouring end is upon us, leading into the drawn out and simplistic tones of the (initially) quieter "Side B." Unnatural energy flows throughout this piece, taking on a much more sinister aspect than the first track despite it's misleadingly subdued movement. Dripping water and crackling fires slowly gather a pace, the tension building until it's almost unbearable and the knowledge that something must happen soon is so overwhelming that it's difficult to tear your mind away. The wait is over after a minimal fourteen minutes or so and Sonance break into the dirty crust of sludge that we heard on the previous track. 

Forty minutes of gravelly woe sees Sonance lift above the overdone quiet/loud dynamic with a frission that seems almost easy to reach out and touch. February sees a pre-order of the vinyl release of this work on Doognad Records so be sure to get involved. For now, visit the bandcamp page, throw your hard-earned virtual cash at Sonance, and lose yourself in the crescendos and of course the darkness.

8.5 / 10 — Cheryl