The one-man band has come a long way from the stereotypical busker laden with instruments from head to foot. With today's technology, individuals often surpass the capabilities and limits of full bands. Black metal, in particular, has embraced solo recording for aesthetic and practical reasons. The artform's venom is antisocial; recording at home is also cheaper and less hassle than practice spaces and bandmates. Lacking the metal-rich environment and close distances of their European counterparts, American black metallers have made the one-man format uniquely theirs. Lone wolves like Xasthur, Krohm, and Sapthuran turn black metal's explosive energy inwards; Leviathan is arguably the most potent of the lot.
Like his colleagues, San Francisco's Leviathan (aka Wrest) deals with depressive/suicidal themes. But unlike them, he wields instrumental prowess that amplifies the personal into the epic. Drums are his first instrument, and they propel his songs through widely varied feels: light-speed blastbeats, mid-paced trudges, tricky math meters. On guitar, he fluently dials up the raw primitiveness of black metal's first wave, the romantic nihilism of the second wave, and shoegazer sheets of sound. His bass lines have an unmatched warmth and fluidity. He's also a celebrated tattoo artist; his wrenching artwork adorns albums by Heresi, Winterblut, and himself. In short, he is the total package.
Massive Conspiracy Against All Life is aptly-titled; Wrest sounds like he's throwing everything and the kitchen sink against the world. His are the bitterest symphonies-- in a past life, he was probably a composer whose works caused riots-- and Conspiracy is his rage writ large. Leviathan's discography (three full-lengths, numerous demos and splits) has varied widely in production values; Conspiracy is the first time his apocalypse has had a sound to match.
The record evokes both a missile attack and its aftermath. Eerie jangles swoop down on "Made as the Stale Wine of Wrath", paving the way for a ground assault of blastbeats. "Vesture Dipped in the Blood of Morning" has what sounds like a martial orchestral sample, as if Sousa had written not for triumph but for tragedy. "Noisome Ash Crown" deceptively meanders in a fog, then unleashes a stomping death march. Wrest's voice rises above the fray like a warlord general; unlike his colleagues, who often sound like malnourished witches, he declaims with a commanding growl. Yet his attack is not all blitzkrieg. Wrest adeptly conjures up wind-like sounds, whether through guitars or electronic means, and much of the record feels like a sepulchral cave. The Book of Revelation has many metal soundtracks, but few have channeled its torment this vividly.
Lurker of Chalice is a project by Wrest that released an eponymous full-length in 2005. The release gained cult status, with accompanying eBay prices, and Southern Lord has reissued it with a bonus track. Lurker of Chalice is Leviathan's drugged-out cousin; black metal is still the starting point, but the departure points are more varied. "Wail"'s buzzing miasma is as if Angelo Badalamenti scored actual nightmares and not just hints of them. "Spectre As Valkerie Is" glows with a luminous shoegazer aura, with small shooting stars of melodies. Clean tones form a densely gorgeous web in "Vortex Chalice". "Minions" lays strips of twang atop slabs of doom. "This Blood Falls as Mortal, Pt. 3" has seasick, kazoo-like melodies and a curiously perky 808 hi-hat. Wrest even tries out actual singing in "Granite", but shrouds it in haunting echoes.
But for all its dreaminess, Lurker still brings the hammer. The atonal glissandos of "Piercing Where They Might" resemble demonic vacuum cleaners; "Spectre" begins with wrecking balls for riffs. For unknown reasons, Wrest is retiring the Leviathan name, so his future output will be as Lurker of Chalice. Each project already has elements of the other, so their unification promises more of the same: the sound of the end of the world.
