7.02.2014

A review of Dalhous' "Will To Be Well"


























My favorite track on Will To Be Well is "Lovers Of The Highlands". The decay and interference speak of loss and fear and malfunction. Then the blurry waves come in and lend a nightmarish quality. Not a "being chased by a mobster" nightmare, more like, I'm in the same place as a monster and must be very still, or it will chase me. The distorted and melting sounds that join the general sonic chaos do nothing but add menace to the piece. Eventually, a temple song emerges and solos, making everything we've experienced thus far ancient, undying. Endless.
That is the sound of dread, and it's only one of the places Marc Dall has created for you to discover.

Someone might listen to this album without paying enough attention and think it might be good music to have on while you're falling asleep. That would be a mistake. Not sure how the subconscious would react to direct exposure to this. "A Communion With These People" is the sound of a clock with a scythe for a pendulum, slicing time into brittle seconds, "Function Curve" is a anthem of uncertainty, and "Sensitised To This Area" feels both retro and post-robotic-future at the same time. Here, there be serpents. Almost every sound bed is dusty and adds a caul of discomfort, albeit beautifully textured discomfort, a mosaic of a glorious sunset, formed by tinted sheets of dead skin. "Four Daughters By Four Women" provoked the phrase "Silent Hill dance club" to pop into my head. Other standout tracks include "Transcendence", which starts out a bit yoga, but then goes beyond itself and into itself to find its core, one made of pure, dark crystals, a subconscious new age dream, and I mean that in the least snarky way possible, and "DSM-III", which is unlike anything else on here, bursting through the gate with a strong syncopated beat and rife with solid programming and more cold, future sounds.

While a few of the tracks tended to go on, perhaps, a bit longer than necessary, and, every once in a while, I found myself asking if a song was evolving subtly or not at all, Will To Be Well presents an array of fantastic sonic landscapes; everything is a touch damp, subterranean. Shrouded. But with a dark, glowing heart. Could there have been more continuity? Of course, I think the music of Dalhous lends itself perfectly to it, but I can see him trying to create separate caves in this underground system. If you want something dark and sprawling, full of deep explorations of places you might not want to explore, then there's a home for you here.

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