Written by Swatty
An Abstract Illusion – Woe
>Atmospheric Death Metal
>Sweden
>Released September 9th
>Willowtip Records
Back in 1996, a rising star in the Swedish melodic death metal circuit named Edge of Sanity released an album consisting of a single 40-minute song called Crimson. While the idea of composing an entire album in such a singular form was nothing radical in and of itself, there was something special about Crimson and its recurring but compelling themes that made it seem so idiosyncratic in an extreme metal context. Sweden’s An Abstract Illusion are the latest to apply this methodology with Woe. Though they differ from Edge of Sanity by breaking down a single song into seven very engrossing chapters, they have in the process crafted one of the finest works of the year that is rich with melancholic vision.
One of the most common issues that plague the one-song-as-an-album style of composition is cohesion. Too frequently incongruous and unexpected changes in melody and meter are pieced together regardless of transition with the only goal being to move the story forward. An Abstract Illusion make no such missteps here as each song carries a bit of the DNA from the opening intro albeit in a state of constant flux. Each chapter is masterful in the way it feels inherently transitional yet somehow could totally stand on its own. In this way the central theme acts as a keystone of the story as the listener continues to familiarize and care about it like the protagonist in a drama. Granted, the technical and more progressive leanings are an obvious leap from Edge of Sanity but the core animus remains the same with its mastery of segue. The journey begins with the opening melody in the intro “The Behemoth That Lies Asleep” – focus on it as you’re gonna hear that motif change and constantly evolve throughout the entirety of this album. For the sake of economy, it will be referred to as the melody going forward.
With the first proper song “Slaves”, it becomes immediately clear this album is a dichotomous affair featuring both beautiful vulnerability and beastly brutality. Little flashes of Hammonds accompany muscular bass lines and crestfallen piano flourishes that all buttress a razor sharp and malevolent guitar tone. There is plenty of aggression to go around with the forcefulness of their sound – it is relentless in its melodic approach that recalls bits of Wake at times. The feeling of aching and anger never really quite leave the proceedings throughout the runtime of the album, though there are moments of introspective respite. However all these performances worship at the altar of the melody.
There’s certainly a risk taken by devoutly focusing on a solitary melodic line to be terra firma since it can easily bore the listener into apathy but An Abstract Illusion are very clever in how they present it. It’s certainly not complex – just a simple descending melody that resolves on a minor chord. Throughout the album the melody goes through so many permutations that it’s nigh impossible to catch all of them. Whether it’s a shift in an interval here, a triple time interpretation of the meter there or translating it to full blown chord progressions and brilliant transpositions, it’s all ceaselessly interesting. The band understands that all you need is one good line and so many doors open to wide vistas spanning a multitude of glorious perspectives.
Take for example the sublime proggy breather that happens at 5:47 in “Tear Down This Holy Mountain” – here the clouds part as the listener enters into the eye of the storm revealing lush, soulful and near jazzy introspection. Karl Westerlund’s guitars gently and playfully dance through a solo that unfolds through a modified chord progression of the melody, woefully bending and holding notes in a pained sigh. Eventually it moves things along again but going forward there’s an added sense of gravity that gives the music a disconsolate heft.
Speaking of the melody, it makes its most affecting and exhilarating appearance during the album’s climax at 12:17 in “In The Heavens Above, You Will Become A Monster.” Everything that has been experienced up to this point, every transformation, deconstruction and reconstruction has led to this stunning eruption of joy and sorrow. Christian Berglönn’s vocals shred any wall still left standing as Leith Ajob‘s sustained drum barrage assists in the artillery. It’s a powerful moment of complete vulnerability and submission in addition to being an ultimate payoff of clever and precise counterpoint.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Woe is a thinking person’s album. It caters to both the scientist and the thespian where wonder and awe can be stunningly achieved for both its clever counterpoint and dramatic nature. At its core the music is atmospheric death metal but the more familiar cacophonous tropes of that genre are overshadowed by its adherence to deeply moving consonance. Not so unlike the giants that preceded it such as Crimson a certain amount of attention is required to truly appreciate the sonic story from beginning to end. However, with great patience comes great rewards and Woe is sure to warm its way onto a lot of lists come the end of the year.
