CULT OF LUNA - Somewhere Along The Highway

Metal is perhaps the most vibrant sector of rock in recent years.

The path opened up by Neurosis has been, and still is, explored in various directions by a multitude of descendants and non-descendants alike (by "non-descendants" I mean those who, while not directly inspired by the band behind "Through Silver In Blood", have nonetheless benefited from the context — open to evolutionary cross-pollination — that it gave rise to).

If last year saw the likes of Orthrelm, Sunn O))) and Earth come to confirm and reinforce that trend, in 2006 high expectations rested on the fourth album by Cult Of Luna.

Klas Rydberg's band carved out a little spot for itself, not too far from the genre's sacred monsters, thanks to its penultimate effort, "Salvation" (2004): the new "Somewhere Along The Highway", let's not beat around the bush, shows that the praise was indeed well deserved.

The album, more expansive and psychedelic than its predecessor (both in the stylistic choices of some tracks and in the structure of even the most powerful ones), opens precisely with a delicate intro, "Marching To The Heartbeats", sweet vocals over emotional, distorted guitars that slowly swell into epic territory, accompanied by tribal drums and piano notes.

It's with the second track, however, "Finland" (eleven minutes long and one of the record's most significant pieces), that things start to get serious. Heavy, tense guitars circle menacingly with drums in the background, and Rydberg starts flaunting his growl, marked by a hint of desperation. Then the sound settles into a body of arpeggiated, meandering post-rock, interrupted by sudden surges and flashes of guitar (or are they? they actually sound more like mandolins: there's evidently a touch of variety in the "string" sounds on this record), carried off into highly evocative instrumental (and vocal) excursions.

"Back To The Chapel Town", opened and closed by a wash of distortion, is instead one of the record's harder, load-bearing pillars (whereas other tracks either showcase a different stylistic signature or lean more on imagination), dark, violent and introverted, essential in its guitar work and likewise honed with skill and creative flair.

"Thirtyfour" follows suit, with guitars tolling out like bells and an aggressive, cutting vocal delivery riding sonic crescendos (at the peak of the aggression, one can make out a beautiful, mellowing keyboard passage).

Nestled between these two monoliths is a moment of calm, a desert-like calm, that of "And With Her Came The Birds", a surprising post-rock moment, a song with a country flavour, with (of all things) a few banjo notes timidly peeking through — an eclectic, and in any case convincing, number. It will be the only pause.

The semi-instrumental "Dim" goes back to treading more openly cross-pollinated ground, with the composition evolving throughout its entire length, structural and sonic variety (a few flashes of electronics paired with powerful drumming; the stretched-out guitars that at times sound almost like slide guitar; a thoroughly enjoyable coda), and a vocal explosion to close it out.

The grand finale is entrusted to the sixteen minutes of "Dark City Dead Man", in which all the album's elements converge into a perfectly repeated cycle (with a few small interludes/variations), featuring post-metal guitars (emotional and violent), incisive drumming and a desperate scream (the first 6 minutes) that slides into a steady instrumental crescendo until all strength is spent (the final 10 minutes).

“Somewhere Along The Highway” perhaps lacks the groundbreaking scope or the burning inspiration/expressiveness that a masterpiece requires. That said, it's still a very fine record, well played and even more formally structured, gaining in quality what it loses in directness.

A most worthy destination. Let's enjoy it.

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01/06/2006