Blanck Mass - In Ferneaux Review

CATHARTIC RELEASE FROM WRETCHED RACK TORTURE

Sacred Bones records; purveyors of the boundary push. Perhaps in a competitive sense, Blanck Mass' stark anomaly In Ferneaux was spurred on by his fellow label mates and their abrasive thrust towards oblivion. His music - including with Fuck Buttons and 2019's excellent Animated Violence Mild - has always adhered to that distorted utopia, sidestepping the element of surprise in favor of relentless rancor. In Ferneaux plays a different game, one whose mysteries can't be solved. There's an enigmatic stature to these two, 20-minute phases, incorporating Drone that's both lush and leaden, Progressive Electronic equal parts celestial and earthy, and samples wholly divergent between esotericism and slice-of-life. Here, coherency and theming reign supreme, yet so much so that the actual purpose seems lost. What exactly is the point of In Ferneaux? It never establishes reason, and for that - and the grueling Drone sections - satisfaction is left unsated.

This, a surprise given how fascinatingly-unorthodox In Ferneaux is. Snugly it fits into the mold of Epic Collage, a new genre formed from the growing detachment many Deconstructed Club artists have with, you know, the club. Industrial textures, thunderous foundations, spoken word samples both relevant and irrelevant. All of these work within the context of Dance music, but also outside of it. Stripped of convention, artistic prospects soar. And there's no denying Blanck Mass' rich aesthetic here, enamored with billowing release and immutable transcendence. Hidden amongst those gargantuan constructs are Fourth World concepts, as we hear in the chirping Field Recordings around the 16-minute mark of 'Phase I' and the ritual dynamism around the ten-minute mark of 'Phase II.' This bold duality is where In Ferneaux's mysticism lies. Not to mention the delusion ramblings of a vagrant surrounded by Harsh Noise at the cusp of 'Phase II' throwing a wrench in one's understanding of the proceedings. It's glorious at times, racking in others, manifesting an impression of otherworldliness that's hard to grasp onto. In Ferneaux weaves this tale of unknowingly quite dramatically, though the end result could be a little more concrete.