Packaged in sci-fi / dystopian art-work, the new album from Mammoth Weed Wizard bastard [ahem] sorry, M|W|W|B, glares up at you from the shelf, blazing red eyes piercing the visual distortion and transfixing you. It’s an arresting image (courtesy of Andy Garside) and an apt warning as to the heavy, heavy psychedelic soundscapes that lie within.
It opens with Oblok Magellana, which sees echoing noise and ominous bass evoking the vastness of space. As Jessica’s voice floats in the gloom, it suddenly resolves itself into the powerful riffing of The Harvest. With Chris Fielding behind the desk, the band sound immense, the various synth elements adding depth to the punishing weight of the song, carving out the space necessary for Jessica’s ethereal vocals. Reminiscent, in part, of The Gathering’s trippier outings (think: How To Measure A Planet), the juxtaposition of melodic vocals and crushing doom riffs is irresistible, especially as they edge into a chorus that is as emotionally charged as it is stunningly beautiful. It’s an incredibly strong opening gambit, and it sets the bar for the album incredibly high. With The Harvest having entirely absorbed the attention, it’s hard to believe that it runs to just over nine-minutes and the band follow it up with the sinister, DR Who-esque swirl of Interstellar Wrecking. A darkly cinematic segue that utilises Harold Faltermyer’s trick of building tension via rhythmic synth, it paves the way for the progressive-metal sweep of Logic Bomb. With Jessica’s gorgeous vocals once more shining amidst the towering riffs, the band add a pinch of Gojira to their influences, and it proves to be another powerful example of both their confidence and musical ability. Betrayal, with its backwards masked vocals and racing synth steps into Pink Floyd territory (albeit via John Carpenter), provides a neat end to the first half, fading down at the end, to allow the briefest moment of silence before the band return with a vengeance for Act II.
One of the album’s most punishing tracks, Altamira is built around a doom riff of monumental proportions. It opens the album’s second act with the band on explosive form, although that all important sense of Melody still remains, and Jessica’s voice is there, summoning you further into the darkness. Hints of Orbital can be found in the sweetly synthy Let’s Send These Bastards Whence They Came, only for the gnarliest of Black Sabbath riffs to rise from the depths on Strontium. A potent doom number, the band play it relatively straight, allowing a greater emphasis to be placed on the multiple vocal lines that sit within the mix. A track that manages to be both visceral and cerebral, it will slay live. It leaves Moon Rise to draw the album to a suitably enigmatic close, and you’re left in awe as to the band’s blazing creative spirit.
The Harvest is a monumental achievement. Every track flows beautifully into the next, resulting in an album in which you can lose yourself for the duration. With Chris Fielding’s deft production, the synth and organic elements are perfectly paired and, throughout it all, the band give a mesmerising performance. An album of which every member of the creative team should feel rightly proud, The Harvest is nothing short of a masterpiece. 10/10
