For experimental rock artists torn between noise-rock abrasion and torturous drone immersion, one side usually wins. It is either a certain sentimental and ethereal quality or an oppressive noise dimension that prevails. But there are some acts that can balance between these worlds. Names like The Angelic Process, and of course Low exemplify this strange balance in different ways. A more obscure name, that felt to be slipping into oblivion, is The Goslings, who have just made their mighty return.
The Florida act released some of the heaviest, most distorted underground music of the '00s. Combining lo-fi aesthetics, abstracted noise rock and drone soundscapes, there was no lack of extravagance in their music. However, a shoegaze injection opened a new dimension. The resulting sentimentality did not take away from the oppressive sounds but instead led to a stunning dichotomy. This in-between state produced some excellent specimens, including Between the Dead and the magnificent Grandeur of Hair. Now, after nearly two decades of silence, The Goslings return, reworking some of their early material and finally releasing it for the first time in Plexuses, Planes.
What has always defined The Goslings is a sense of overwhelming, and that is still the case with Plexuses, Planes. After the relatively controlled opener, a thoroughly unrecognisable "Knocking On Heaven's Door," the distortion reaches new heights. The spirit of Sunn O))) echoes through "Dawn In The Head," as The Goslings take a sculptural approach to the feedback, slowly building and unfolding it until it gets completely out of control. It never attains the sheer, skin-stripping intensity of Grandeur of Hair, but its presence remains imposing.
This is where one of the strongest attributes of The Goslings comes in: their ability to use the drone foundation as a launching pad for their diverging adventures. From this slow-moving sea of noise, new ideas arise. At times, they take an unpredictable approach, echoing with early-days Swans-ian guitar mechanics in "Regular Red Witching Candle." This industrial approach takes on flesh and bones in "Gangway," where mechanized brutality cuts through the drone's massive undertow.
But the industrial machinations are just one expression of the whole. Elsewhere, the shoegaze sensibility asserts itself. Toward that end, it is Leslie Soren's vocal delivery that establishes this effect. Here, it pierces through the sonic debris with a bright precision, bringing a soothing, spectral counterpoint to the rough wall of sound, most perfectly exemplified through "Mystery Guest."
But, no matter the case, if there is one element that acts as the core for The Goslings, it is the sense of ritualism. The central thread is the defining undercurrent in Plexuses, Planes offering a deconstructed ceremony that unfolds through different states of existence. At times, it verges on the psychedelic, as delicate melodic figures collide with the sheer doom weight, flirting with an almost stoner aesthetic. It then shifts toward a Middle Eastern influence with "In May," further enhanced through the metronome beats acting as the necessary anchor. But the most striking moments are "Statuette/Landing" and "Muddlemoon," where The Goslings channel a beautiful grandeur through their drone soundscapes, reaching for a cosmic quality.
There are times when Plexuses, Planes appears to be moving toward the more sentimental edge of The Goslings' pendulum. At times, the dichotomy seems ready to collapse entirely, yet the band always pull back from the brink, keeping tight control over this fine balance. It is a magnificent return, one that not only justifies The Goslings' revival but also stands proudly with the most imposing works in their canon.
