Album Review: Ranges – Sin

There is the music you can hear—
And the world built beneath it.

How good are riffs?

Seriously though – how good are they? All kinds. Big, filthy riffs. Shimmering, melancholy riffs. Sludgy, stank face riffs. Riffs that transport you to childhood memories unexpectedly. Riffs that if you’re driving result in your foot pressing harder on the accelerator without realising. Safe to say, I am all too happy to worship at the altar of riffs.

And luckily, Ranges new release Sin is a very fitting addition to the altar.

I must confess, I actually didn’t know much about them heading into this review. After a brief crash course I can say that I was missing out – they’re great… And with some of the most creative, bespoke, wonderful merch and universe building I’ve seen. This is a group of people who deeply love and respect the music and art that they create, and deeply enjoy sharing it with the world. How goddamn amazing.

And so onto their new release: Sin. Seven tracks, seven deadly sins. Full disclosure, I’m not 100% certain which track corresponds to which sin, so I’ve done some internet sleuthing as best I can to align them.

“The Falcon Cannot Hear the Falconer” – Wrath
Opening the album we have a track titled with a line from the William Butler Yeats poem “The Second Coming”. A poem influenced by the trauma and unimaginable horror of the first world war, descending into chaos and sheer terror. Ethereal pads and light, airy effects kick us off before some softly booming tom work guides us into the first instance of chiming guitar riffs. The guitars sway and pierce while the bass slowly rumbles. Suddenly we’re into wrath – piercing, venomous guitar lines erupt from the speakers and swirl around your head.

Just as you’re getting used to it though we’re back into the first building motif again, but with more layered guitar lines to add to the overall wall of sound, reminding me of pg. lost in a way. Exploding proper into the final stanza with the second motif repeating again we get even more high end distorted guitars wailing and thrashing at you. I can absolutely picture this as the soundtrack to coffins opening and the wrathful dead rising – a la the 7” cover inspired by Dante’s Inferno.

‘Their Eyes Sewn Shut’ – Envy
What denotes envy to you? Is it a longing for a thing you can’t or shouldn’t have? If so, the opening of this screams out longing to me. It’s melancholy, slightly wistful and pushed forward by the military style drumming. Then a screaming guitar riff comes in and takes the top of your head off, exploding the track into glorious life. It’s spacious and huge, echoing around the sound stage as wailing lines build and soar. The military snare hits keep us going as the guitar screams, until it recedes into a soft, delicate bridge.

A few well timed clean chords to echo through the space occur before the main guitar melody line comes back in to remind us of the overall track, and hint at one final peak. It’s a study in delicate noise – melodic cacophony. And then, there’s no final noise. We end with the environmental sounds/effects that were all through the track, softly echoing and dying to leave us thinking about what makes us envious.

“Bound To The Black Wind” – Lust
I love this track. It has a delicate, shimmering swagger to it, fragile and vulnerable in the beginning as we ruminate on things lost or things never had. It’s got that ‘classic’ post rock sound that we all know so well – timeless guitars, spacious yet essential drumming, melodic rises and clear yet enveloping mix. Then when the heavy part of the track kicks in it’s immediately buzzsaw guitars soaring and fighting with each other, an evil minor melody cutting through absolutely everything on the track. That melody line could absolutely be the evil, lustful voice in your head. The counterpoint guitar line coming after it is the foil to that voice, cautioning restraint. A great track, and would absolutely hammer live I think.

“Three Throats” – Gluttony
This song certainly seems to be a tale of two parts. The first instance is quiet, delicate and mournful. Everything in its right place, slowly building and moving around one another in no hurry to arrive at the second section. And then the second section is violence.

It’s a simple riff, but oh boy it’s a corker of a riff. This is a nomination to the altar of riffs for sure. It’s a masterclass in ‘less is more’ as the band slowly cycle through the riff over and over, building more venom, anger, distortion and tension into it with each phrase. It encourages head banging, evil faces and gluttony. This is feeding yourself silly on a dirty, evil riff and I am here for it. Ranges don’t give you a choice here – they’re force feeding you this riff and you WILL like it. Awesome.

“Prodigal” – Avarice/Lust
We get a quiet start on this track, with subdued guitars, a thudding, gorgeous bass line humming underneath and simple, propulsive drumming. Slowly building, ebbing and flowing with the instrument lines weaving between each other until the inevitable peak explodes… And it explodes with glorious abandon. Cutting, buzzsaw guitars, bass that seems to be ripped straight from a chasm and signaling impending doom. It’s an aural assault and it is just wonderful.

Lust indeed. I for one am lusting over that guitar tone. It’s gorgeous. It reminds me of If These Trees Could Talk with that slight proggy edge to it, but this is a beast all its own. Then in the bridge we get some delightful strings to float us away briefly before the violence returns. And then we’re back, mired into those wonderful guitar lines with a new, soaring riff over the top threatening to take the top of your head off. And all too soon it’s over. I could listen to this as a 20 minute track easily. Killer.

“The Red Mist” – Anger
Straight out of the gate this track seems to fit exactly with the sin of Anger. An angry, speedy start to this song fires you back in your seat, guitars hitting you square in the chest over and over again, minor rising lines wailing at you until they collapse on themselves. And then – respite? Perhaps, but there is still that undercurrent of tension in the ‘quieter’ section as the anger of the first part still permeates. And while the softer section is great, it’s the urgency, anger and violence of this track that makes it for me. It’s a masterclass in ‘loud/quiet/loud’ songwriting, and one of those tracks that you swear is either 2 minutes or 10 minutes long. When the second, final loud section kicks in it’s all fist pumping and head swaying. If that’s a musical representation of anger – sign me up for an album of it.

“Idle Hands” – Sloth
If I had to describe this song in one word, it would be ‘wistful’. If it is the track for Sloth, then perhaps the sloth is the languid guitar line at the start? There’s a certain sadness to this track that makes me think I got my Sin allocations wrong. It’s slow to start, each instrument coming in to add to the overall wall of sound, chord by chord, riff by riff. And you know it’s coming – the peak. Just because you know it’s coming doesn’t lessen the impact though when it’s done this well. It’s loud, melodic, screaming at you and a suitable vessel for you to scream into the void. Angry guitars yell at you one final time as the track just… dissolves into quiet. A fitting final track.

So, overall a great album. It’s not just the music, but the world they’ve created around it that makes it great. It’s so very clear the time, effort and meticulous crafting that went into this album. And there is a smorgasbord of riffs for you to sink your teeth into. This makes me need to go and listen to everything they have done previously, because I am clearly deficient in my Ranges allocation. Now, where on earth do I get an Æterno coin…

“Where words fail, music speaks.”

Ranges are part of A Thousand Arms records, a post-rock label and screen printing company that creates incredible bespoke merch. They have teamed up with dunk!records in Belgium to press some incredible looking records.

The theme of this album is the seven deadly sins. The album will be released on 7/7. There are seven different variants of the record (limited to 150 copies each), each named after the respective sins.

There are seven limited edition boxsets that contains all variants (already sold out). And for the ultra fans, we have the deluxe boxset (limited to 77 copies, also sold out), which features seven 7″ records, one for each song on the album, with vinyl-exclusive songs on the b-sides. The US Deluxe Edition also includes a suite of seven themed ephemera that align with sins and vices, including playing cards, dice, a cigar, and a poster and merch that have been screen printed in the typical A Thousand Arms attention to detail.

Ranges are about to embark on an American tour with their friends in Man Mountain, playing Midwest and East Coast parts of the country, before finishing at Post Festival in Indianapolis.

Tour dates/ ticketing: https://www.rangesmusic.com/tour

Order Sin:

Bandcamp: https://ranges.bandcamp.com/album/sin
A Thousand Arms store (USA): https://www.athousandarmsstore.com/collections/pre-order-sin-by-ranges
dunk!records (EU) : https://dunkrecords.com/collections/ranges
Wild Thing Music (Au): https://wildthingmusic.com/collections/ranges

Ranges links:

Website: https://www.rangesmusic.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rangesmusic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rangesmusic/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCBJg41ELchEChCEtIRKz4NA

Patreon (The Ranges podcast, exclusive merch, early access to releases): https://www.patreon.com/rangesmusic

The Cultus (The world of Ranges lore. Exclusive marketplace, limited edition releases, unpacking the deep mystique and concepts of Ranges’ music) : https://linktr.ee/thecultus

Reviewed by Nick Dodds

Photos by Joseph James

Album Review: We Lost The Sea – A Single Flower

So, we finally have a new We Lost The Sea album brought forth into the wild. It’s been a long wait, and a lot has happened in the world since the heady days of October 2019. Global pandemics, wars, riots, political upheavals and much, much more. And Triumph & Disaster seemed to be a very apt soundtrack for it all. I don’t know about you, but The Last Sun & Mother’s Hymn were on high rotation in our house during those black pandemic days, seemingly reflecting the helplessness, distrust and bleak acceptance of the world around us.

And now we have A Single Flower to carry us on for the next period of time. I can tell you immediately that I’m exceedingly thankful for that. What good is global unrest and uncertainty without a smashing soundtrack?

We Lost The Sea have never shied away from heavy themes in their music – in fact, they revel in it. Crimea on the brutality of war, The Quietest Place On Earth on soul crushing emotions, Departure Songs embracing glorious failure and Triumph & Disaster a final day on Earth between a mother and son. Safe to say, heavy themes abound. A Single Flower slots into this seamlessly right from the off, with its full title: ‘A Single Flower or The Black Bird Glowed Bright White as it Fell and Became a Trail of Light’.

Sunshine and rainbows this is most firmly not. But therein lies the power: you cannot have light without darkness. And by drawing from the darkness, the light when it visits becomes even more powerful… And We Lost The Sea are masters at manipulating the darkness, encapsulating it as a vehicle to drag you into the light.

The album opens with ‘If They Had Hearts’ – a single, jagged, forlorn guitar riff echoing sadly. It’s channeling middle eastern or latin sensibilities, in no hurry to expand or contract while the band slowly come in around it. Muted drums slowly expand in the background, increasing in volume and venom as piano, bass and the heavenly triple guitar attack swell and ebb. At around 3 and a bit minutes we get into the track ‘proper’, percussive elements continuing the inexorable pace as the band move as a single unit towards the peak. And then at 5 and a half minutes we get the pay off, the track exploding into menace, sadness and power – yet without changing the underlying riff or tempo at all.

It’s a masterclass in building, layering and minimalism as a sonic assault. Elements of Swans no-wave certainly seem apt here. And then suddenly the track has collapsed upon itself, leaving us with gentle, swirling guitars, delicate piano and a sense of space with a touch of longing. I can only imagine this live.

Then we head straight into ‘A Dance With Death’, potentially the most recognisable We Lost The Sea song on the album – in every wonderful way possible. Earthquake bass kicks us off, melodic, chugging and setting a scene. Guitar lines that are almost ‘proggy’ weave in and out, piano lines soar and the drums. Oh my heart, the drums. First time I heard this track I excitedly messaged a friend on how good the drums on this track are – and after 50+ listens I’m now even more certain. The snare hits at about 2.30 in absolutely hit my soul, and the guitar lines building pressure, intensity and anger just make me want to scream into the void.

And then just like that it’s all panned, mixed and echoed out into a single guitar riff that to me is absolutely a call back to Departure Songs (might be miles off, but I swear it is). Then it’s brushes on the kit, delicate piano and melancholy as far as the eye can see… Until a buzzsaw guitar starts building. Snappy high hat work. A partner guitar to increase the tension and sonics. Bass to massage your intestines, and the song keeps going, until the inevitable explosion. And it is glorious. When everything comes in you are left with no doubt that this is a band operating at the peak of their powers. And then, then, then – a filthy, majestic and just flat out disgustingly good riff to finish it all off. Absolute class. I cannot get enough of this song, and a dance with death it most certainly is. If you survive or not, uncertain.

Next up is ‘Everything Here Is Black And Blinding’. If I had to sum up this track with just one word it would be: oppressive. This is a dank basement, mould on the walls and a single dust covered window allowing just a single shaft of light to penetrate the space. It’s another angular, off kilter guitar riff to start things, with a drum beat that to my ears brings me memories of early 2000’s electronic dance music (because old). There’s layered guitars that are more static and emotional than notes, while the main guitar line weaves through it all. There’s noise here. Counter beats. It’s dense. It’s a wailing, angry beast lurching through the darkness.

Then the inevitable peak as everything comes to a head, those static/noise guitar lines expanding and growing, bass nailing you to the floor, filthy, dust covered keyboard riffs (Fender Rhodes?) taking over everything as the whole track collapses in on itself and dies. I wasn’t sure about this track when I first heard it, but it’s superb. It’s different, exciting and oh so engaging. At ‘only’ 8 minutes there is a lot to unpack here, and even more to revisit again and again. And I’m just starting to scratch the surface of it.

Moving into the second ‘half’ of the album we have ‘Bloom (Murmurations Of First Light)’. A wistful, melancholic solo guitar line kicks it off before we almost immediately head into a walloping wall of sound as the band pins our ears back. A riff of longing, reverb, echoes and distorted melody push us through the initial section, until that bass is all that remains with a dirty riff. And then we’re back to the first guitar line. I didn’t know what a ‘murmuration’ was (for those like me, it’s a term to describe those wonderful soaring, swirling patterns that flocks of birds can make), but the middle part of this track is a murmuration encoded as a song to me. It’s beautiful. Swelling, orchestral and melodic. I can close my eyes and see the flock of birds above my head, swirling in time to the bass and piano, kicking left and right, up and down in time to the drums.

And while these birds are putting on a show the guitars are chiming, weaving in and out for a dance all their own as well. If the previous track was oppressive, this is light. It’s fragile, delicate light that can corrode and die at any moment, but light nevertheless. And so we build, the band allowing us more shafts of light and swooping lines, chugging guitar steaming ahead until a guitar solo like a laser from space pierces the sonic assault. It’s been a while since a solo like that has been on a WLTS album and it’s another excellent example of the tonal changes and musical switches on this album. And then we’re done. The birds have finished their dance and the guitar from the beginning is echoing around our heads again, bass and swelling cymbals reminding us of the journey we just had.

And then – ‘The Gloaming’.

I wasn’t ready for this track. To come where it does on the album, and after all the changes, variety and complexity before it it floored me. I had a good cry hearing this. It is the very definition of fragile beauty. Soaring strings, piano and more melancholy then I was ready for on first listen. It. Is. Gorgeous. It’s also the shortest track at around 3 minutes, but what a wonderful 3 minutes. It’s potentially the most ‘simple’ track on the album (and it is not simple) but holy shit it’s just great. It’s beyond emotive and hit me right in the feels. I can’t really say much more about this than it’s just beautiful and I thank them for sharing this with us. If only I could hear this live.

“Does the earth hold our guilt or our own hearts?”

And finally we come to… ‘Blood Will Have Blood’. Mark Owen himself described it to me as ‘a behemoth’ and he is most certainly not wrong, but I’d also throw in a few extra terms like ‘gargantuan’, ‘odyssey’ and ‘immense’. To start with, it’s 27 minutes long. We’ve had what a lot of bands would consider an album prior to this track… and yet here we are. Epic is an understatement. Wistful guitars start chiming to kick it off, warm bass hugging you and consoling you until mallet drums and lonely piano remind you where you are. You’re in their world now, and best buckle up. This exudes space and slow build up, layers coming in slowly as the emotive pressure ratchets up a single degree at a time. Minor riffs swirling and growing, growling in the darkness as a single fist rages against the dark.

The drums propel us forward, waves of guitar building and shimmering. And then the snare rushes begin and the band… Hit us with a glorious major key riff. Exploding out of the darkness it’s sunshine, lightness and hope. It’s rocking, majestic and unexpectedly happy – until you look at the runtime and realise we’re less than halfway through. Challenger Part II this is not. And almost like trying to hold onto a dream when you wake the sunshine dissipates in a wave of thick riffs and we descend back into the inky blackness.

But perhaps all is not quite lost yet. Yes, the guitar lines are mournful. Swelling, cajoling and brittle but as the distortion hums around the pure notes there is still a background warmth. But that soon disappears as we’re left with cold indifference. A military snare beat starts pushing us forwards as the guitars growl quietly, the piano offering slight respite. The bass pulses like a heartbeat in your throat, noise and atmospherics only adding to the overall feel. It’s building, but to an unknown place. If a slow building peak could be constrained violence, this is it. It’s unforgiving, pummeling and full of rage. And then – jagged guitars ramp up the violence. Anger at the world, anger at the heart, anger at the cold indifference of the human condition. It’s vitriol, helplessness and silent rage as music. It’s also the culmination of the journey of this album.

And so it continues building, riffs exploding left and right, buzzsaw guitars fighting each other for supremacy and glorious noise everywhere. It’s almost funeral with it’s tempo, yet somehow feels far faster. And just when you think the violence, darkness and futility will win, we’re done. The darkness has been pushed back. Perhaps just for a moment, perhaps for good. But embrace the beauty of the end. A return to delicate moments, beauty and positivity. And with that, it’s over. And what a ride.

When I reviewed Departure Songs I said something like ‘if you want to show someone the power of music, play them this album’. A Single Flower is if you want to show someone the emotive, physical power that music can have. It’s beautiful, bleak, angry, dark, happy, wistful and so much more. It’s dense, layered and not what I was expecting, and I love it all the more for it. It’s a journey in all the best ways possible. And to continue with the single flower analogy, peeling back each petal of this album is an immensely rewarding journey.

Kudos. A massive release.