On his eighth Six Organs of Admittance outing, Ben Chasny's burrowed deeper into the eerie psych bog, creating The Sun Awakens, his most foreboding album to date. In the past he's been vocal about the influence on his work by Keiji Haino's psych-rock crew Fushitsusha, the slow-mo guitar pyrotechnics of Loren Connors, the shambling rock'n'drone of New Zealand's Dead C, and various underground musicians championed in Byron Coley and Jimmy Johnson's seminal Forced Exposure magazine. That range of sounds has never shown up as clearly as across these seven tracks. Chasny's been the odd finger-picker out of the core freak-folk family for some time; on this somber, stirring collection, he's spreading his wings even further.
If the post-folk demarcation needs to be sketched with thicker lines, there's also Chasny's membership in Badgerlore, Comets on Fire, and Current 93. Don't misunderstand: John Fahey and Robbie Basho are here and there, but the aforementioned experimenters-- as well as shambolic troupes like Tower Recordings and Sunburned Hand of the Man-- make more apt aesthetic brethren for the Oakland multi-instrumentalist.
Recording quality isn't something I generally write home about (full disclosure: I recorded Chasny playing his guitar via speakerphone for a compilation CD that I co-curated), but the Fucking Champs' Tim Green did a great job capturing the instruments here, creating the best sounding Six Organs record to date. Green and Chasny also co-produced it wonderfully, subtly layering the various strata, keeping each component distinct (trick: play it loud). The compositional approach isn't unprecedented-- elements of the previous Six Organs albums bubble to the surface-- but the constituent parts are more precisely focused. Imagine the dirge of 2002's Dark Noontide with a stronger Comets undertow consistently pulling you toward some unknown mire. In addition to the compositional integrity, the ways he utilizes his voice have grown exponentially.
Unfazed by the recent wolf-rock infestation, Chasny opens the set with a brief acoustic ditty, "Torn By Wolves". It's Chasny on guitars-- upfront Octavio Paz lullaby with a distant wash in the background-- paired with minimal cymbal taps and percussion from Comets on Fire's Noel Von Harmonson. Throughout, Von Harmonson's drumming is sparer than Chris Corsano's free-jazz eruptions, leading to a focus on the guitars and other instruments, and radically shifting the freak-out mode.
That plaintive ramble gives way to the ominous "Bless Your Blood". It's again Chasny and Von Harmonson on their respective instruments, but Green handles the tone generator and John Connell the Persian flute. Despite the added oomph, the most obvious detail of the piece is Chasny's upfront, claustrophobic flanged voice-- a second track of spectral falsetto drifts and darts, acting as gorgeous counterpoint.
"Black Wall" pairs vocal hypnotics with noisy guitar. The track begins acoustic, but when the guitar crush explodes toward the end, the rings are still there, this time piled heavy with feedback. The guitar's notched up another few digits for the blistering, raga-to-rock-out instrumental "Attar", named after the mystic Iranian poet. On the penultimate track, "Wolves Pup", Chasny reprises "Torn By Wolves". It's the same song played differently and this time with no background peal or drums-- just Chasny on the acoustic. Much like "Torn By Wolves", the spare piece acts as a dynamic space-- a moment of comedown before launching into something bigger.
Closer "River of Transfiguration" is a 24-minute trek down the Styx with a posse of groaning monks. Chasny handles guitar, tone generators, organ, vocals, and gong, and the album's previous players all show up with armloads of instruments. Additionally, Om's Al Cisneros lays down bass and sings, and other vocals come courtesy of Comets on Fire's Ethan Miller plus three other acolytes. The sound? Imagine the latter portion of School of the Flower's "Saint Cloud" sans pretty guitar line and taken to the nth degree: It's more about developing a sense of space than rocking out, and its elements slowly drift into the mix until it becomes a teeming landscape.
Even with the terrific "River of Transfiguration", I'll bet a couple bucks that people will be let down by The Sun Awakens. Though it's actually longer than School, it feels shorter because of the lengthy grand finale and overall cohesion. (Songs blend together and cross fade, and the only aesthetic anomaly is the Western wrangle "The Desert is a Circle".) It will also prove more challenging for the casual listener: Where's the loner pot cloud of "Thicker Than a Smokey"? The bucolic "All You've Left" and "Words for Two"? That said, Chasny found himself a heavy fucking vibe and that led him to a transcendent but unrelenting place. If you've ever been intrigued by the sound of the sun imploding, this should be your cup of hemlock.
