Divide & Dissolve offer a refreshing and vital voice in the world of heavy music, using the behemoth weight of their sound to tackle conversations around white supremacy and colonialism. This is an important record, and manages to articulate a message about the treatment of black and indigenous peoples around the world with very few words spoken. And better yet, it is also a fantastic slab of sludge and doom.
Guitarist and saxophonist Takiaya Reed, alongside percussionist Sylvie Nehill, have quite possibly released one of the best albums of the year. Through a mostly instrumental record, the Australian duo have managed to create a record that manages to speak volumes about the crushing impact of our colonial history and white supremacist society.
A mournful saxophone motif weaves throughout the album, evoking a pastoral horror. The pained melodies serve almost the same role as a character’s theme in a movie, almost a diegetic role, interjecting throughout to remind us of the overriding message the duo are attempting to convey. Alongside these moments of haunting calm, waves and waves of gargantuan riffs hit you relentlessly, creating the gnarliest wall of sound. To experience this live would surely be an overwhelming experience, as even through headphones, it feels earth-shattering.
Track three is the only track that features any lyrical message, and it comes in the form of a fantastic piece by poet Minori Sanchiz-Fung. It is a powerful articulation of the persecution of black and indigenous populations by western society. It offers an important interjection of the album’s message, which may have been overlooked by some listeners without prior knowledge of the duo’s ambitions, or if you didn’t get round to reading the liner notes.
The production was carried out by Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s Ruban Nielson, who has long been a fan of the group. Nielson’s production talents have given the album a notable difference in sound compared to other sludge/doom records. It at once feels somewhat distant, or perhaps of a different time in its grainy distorted quality, yet also forever present and imposing. The riffs melt into each other, undulating to and fro, and before long you may find yourself embracing the heaviness and nodding along. Then again, that haunting sax melody blasts that away, its serenity feeling strangely shocking alongside the wonderful heavy dirge.
A lot of music writing comes down to comparing artists with other artists. This serves an important purpose, helping alert fans of established sounds to new offerings, and establishing acts within certain canons, or realms of genre. There would be plenty to suggest here, from the Melvins, to Earth, Godflesh, or perhaps Sun(((O. All valid. Interestingly though, the album is billed as being for fans of Black writers, states of being, or philosophical concepts rather than other acts. This seems useful, as it continues to establish the record within a political context of other artists, rather than an apolitical sonic category. the metal world has often had a complicated relationship with political views, with artists aligning from both extremes of viewpoint. Again, this is part of what makes Divide & Dissolve such a unique and important voice in a community that is often a white male domain. And through Gas Lit, they have really highlighted how powerful heavy music could be as a political voice.
Noise Compendium 