Lull – Continue

Mick's crown achievement. subtle, minimal, haunting, un-pretentious and devastating. you want to put this together with other infrasound aficionados like thomas koner and lustmord. low end is punishing and unforgiving. watch out for your inner ear, tooth fillings and plastering. recommended for lazy conservatives who like their saturday - sunday on repeat.

So what does the title suggest to you? One single, simple word which might hint at life going on despite adversity, or perhaps the tedium of that life, or merely the progression of any experience between two points of pause. Where LULL are concerned it probably means to further search an area they had ventured into on half a dozen previous releases. Structure? Forget it! Any attempt to arrange LULL into logical progressive format was left way behind after the first album.
So what does that leave us with. Well, a glance at the uniform grey sleeve might give you a hint - muted noises which swell and boil in soporific cloud chamber drifts, rising whines and booms, the impression of having slowed time down, of the journey through Industrial subterranean factories continues, passages through dimly lit chambers, hearing machines in the distance which sound like they are ... could they be ... somehow biological and actually alive? Shadows and lightplay, shimmers and dust grey.

To fully appreciate this music it needs to be played loud, through a decent stereo to the point where individual tones envelop you in turn, like ghosts inviting you to their Danse Macabre. You therefore become at one with the indistinct noises, caught amidst caverns, ravines, mountains and valleys of noise, lost hopelessly and without a care.

This music is dark, yes, but it isn't so disturbing as to be scary. I'd say it's more cloying, wrapping itself around the listener in a cold embrace, numbing the senses 'til you're lost within it, absorbed into the greylight tones.

Originally reviewed for Soft Watch.