Krallice's self titled album was kind of a revelation when I first heard it, being as interested as I was in Mick Barr's playing style. His work with Orthrelm and his solo projects is challenging to say the least - so hearing his trademark shrill, geometrical, pick heavy shredding in a more accessible setting was a welcome change. But even though many of the songs had a sort of "big payoff" in the form of a sweepingly epic torrent of melodic shards, much of the album consisted of a hazy onslaught of tremolo picking and blasts which failed to leave much impression. In short, it was just plain hard to remember the individual songs.
With Dimensonal Bleedthrough, the effect was only amplified with ever more complex rhythms and three-voice polyphony (if not more). While the rhythm section had certainly improved, the token accessible riffs seemed to have been phased out. It was kind of a wash, and I ended up treating the album as a replacement rather than a new installment in their discography.
With two albums already being more than I could chew, the logical thing to do would have been to pass over Diotima until I eventually digested the previous work (if ever). But my inexplicably enduring attraction to this band prevailed, and I ended up getting in over my head even further.
......
More than most people, I can relate to both sides of this debate. Clearly I have had trouble remembering and distinguishing between the mass of tracks that Krallice seems to add to by the year. On the other hand, I've always felt something intriguing and progressive about their dense layers of tremolo picking, bubbling bass tones, droning feedback and sustained chords.
So here we are in 2012 and Krallice IV has arrived: Years Past Matter. Driven by my inability to keep the last two albums straight, I was pretty apathetic about hearing this. Then again, the album cover was sweet. And maybe this would finally be the time that everything just clicked for me with one of their albums.
As I'm twiddling my thumbs waiting for my copy to arrive, I have to admit that I simply haven't invested the necessary time into the last couple albums. Surely I should be able to recognize and describe the differences between Dimensional Bleedthrough and Diotima, if nothing else.
All this has raised an interesting question for me: in music, how much effort should be expected or required from the listener? Clearly from the standpoint of popularity and success, the listener should not be expected to invest anything substantial. But from an artistic standpoint, is there an "appropriate" amount?
In the case of Krallice it seems to me that the diverging opinions of your Deathspell Omega and Nightbringer fan from your Pitchfork-reading Liturgy dweeb might really be a question of how much time was invested. Technical music could be likened to staring at clouds in the sky: if you focus, you often see something unexpected and downright impressive.
Luckily for my musings, Mick Barr has provided the perfect case study: Orthrelm's Asristir Vieldriox. It consists of 99 songs over the course of 13 minutes, where each "song" is a fleeting burst of guitar shred accompanied by some hyperactive drumming. It seems like an exercise in permutations. And while I've certainly listened to it more times than any reasonable person, it won't be a shocking admission that I can't tell you anything about track 34.
I've actually toyed with the idea of painstakingly studying the album: listening for the subtle differences between tracks, coming up with some rough categories to divide them into, cataloging them until I can consciously differentiate each one. It would be pretty nauseatingly nerdy. I don't know whether I'll ever do it. But the interesting thing is, my ability to perform this exercise is completely independent of how much forethought went into the "compositions". Even if Mick Barr recorded 99 tidbits of guitar at random, I could get a lot of value out of the exercise of categorizing them - if I should care enough to do so.
I don't think there are many people out there who are going to find Years Past Matter to be an easy album to digest. For the most part, the ones who rave about it will be the ones who went into it with an expectation of depth and value. They'll be spot on about the album's complex structures and sonorities. The ones who call it another overhyped salad of directionless riffs and unmemorable songs will likely also be right on the money. By the time the fanboys have listened to it 30 times in a row, they may have a hard time acknowledging that superficial reality.
So what makes us care enough to invest effort in music? Allmusic reviews of albums from 1968 may seem far removed enough to possess a sort of objectivity. But here in the present, it can be uncomfortable to admit the influence of critics and popular opinion. It might be the nod from the New Yorker or the mumblings of fans at a metal club. Choosing to invest something of yourself in an album is the most critical step to enjoying it - and we never make that choice in a vacuum.
No matter who you ask, no one really contests that Krallice is a band of formidable skill who can paint in rich sonic colors. But are the obscure, labyrinthian structures a sign of the band's failure to create a viable, engaging narrative in their songs? Or are they a call to the listener to rise to the challenge?
I don't know how I came to the decision. But this time I'm going to give Years Past Matter my most rapt attention.
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