SINGLE REVIEW: Means of Entry - The Spectator
A 12-minute song isn't really my thing. I find something so lengthy struggles to retain my interest, which was the case with 'The Spectator' as I did find myself skipping through to get to the next element of the song. I get that the band tried to build atmosphere and intrigue, and it worked well to achieve this goal, but it wasn't entirely for me.
'The Spectator' is shrouded in mysterious, nervous, progressive energy. Coming in soft and mounting to a crashing deluge of distorted noise and quiet, uneasy vocals that transcend into raw screams. It plods and erupts with unwavering emotions. Sometimes, it feels structured, and at others, noisy chaos. Droning doomy basslines and angular guitars dual with the frantic, erratic crash of drums.
It's a rollercoaster ride that doesn't make sense, although it perfectly mirrors the world's chaos. The sometimes inescapable drone of life from both external noise and the internal voices that never seem to shut up.
'The Spectator,' while a little lost on me, is more a piece of art than a structured song. A channel to release pent-up frustrations. It's loud, experimental, intense, nervous, unpredictable, and uncomfortable.
