April 20, 2018

Ails - The Unraveling

By Justin C. It was about this time last year that I was giddy over two new songs by Ails, a band fronted by ex-Ludicra members Laurie Shanaman and Christy Cather. Hearing these two together again in a new black metal project is a delight
By Justin C.

Artwork by Andrei Bouzikov.

It was about this time last year that I was giddy over two new songs by Ails, a band fronted by ex-Ludicra members Laurie Shanaman and Christy Cather. Hearing these two together again in a new black metal project is a delight, and Ails' first full-length, The Unraveling, provided everything I wanted and more.

It's tempting to compare and contrast this band with Ludicra. That legacy looms large. And after all, if you put Robert Plant and Jimmy Page together, the end result is undoubtedly going to be a bit Zeppelin-ish, and the combination of vocals from Shanaman and Cather on top of Cather's guitar work can't help but be a bit Ludicr-ish. Album opener "The Echoes Waned" even has a lovely acoustic guitar interlude with some heavy picking, not unlike what I noted way back when (in my very first review here) of Ludicra's Hollow Psalms. But the more I nerded out on musical analysis, the more I realized it was a bit unfair to both the other members of Ludicra and Ails. And truth be told, that lovely familiarity is mixed with plenty of new sounds.

"Any Spark of Life" mashes up tremolo and palm-muted, thrashy goodness in guitar work that's both tempestuous and melodic at the same time, and that's coupled with Shanaman's always-ferocious screams on some bleak material: "The only reflections I can see / are the dark circles underneath / eyes that harness the sadness." "Mare Weighs Down" brings in a sense of horror movie soundtrack with lyrics about nightmares: "Falling into slumber brings no peace of mind / it stirs up horrors." "The Ruin" takes a more feral turn before the album closes out with "Bitter Past," a track that ranges over blasts of guitar, clean vocals, and breaks where Shanaman's shrieks are allowed to howl over just the rhythm section. The lyrics themselves aren't in the least bit coy: "Forgive to forget / forgive to move on / spoken so eloquently / but chronically wrong." The music burns in your ears with extreme metal's version of catchiness, and the words forego convoluted Satanist texts for emotions and experiences anyone can relate to.

At 41 minutes, this album is short, but only in the sense that I want so much more. The length is actually downright perfect. Easy to absorb in one sitting, but with plenty of things to chew on for repeat listens. Have I written this as a bit of a fan boy? Yeah, probably, but the internet is welcome to decry my lack of "objectivity" in my subjective opinion. If you know Ludicra, you'll want to get on this. If you don't, you'll want to get on this, then go back and get your hands on everything Shanaman and Cather have done.

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