Nickolas Mohanna :: Speaker Rotations (AKP)

The huge scope that Speaker Rotations depicts is well served by its compositions as well, as it sometimes starts to build to these big big walls of chaos; truth be told, loudness is never this album’s main goal, but it feels so huge that it almost tricks you into thinking you’re submerged by sound, slowly sinking in quicksand.

Submerged by sound, slowly sinking in quicksand

With Speaker Rotations, NIckolas Mohanna presents a rather interesting exploitation of instruments. I pose it that way because the instruments are not utilized much for their tonality, rather it’s their timbre that plays a big role here; Mohanna seems to have pretty clear ideas of how to suit each best, as the different tracks display various approaches. When it comes to the guitar, it is blown up to a thousand, sounding more catastrophic than an atomic bomb, while the trombone is so drowned in feedback that it seems like it echoes endlessly, and then you also have the piano and the drums, which are far more laid back instead, but you really wouldn’t want to warp their smooth tones after all.

The huge scope that this record depicts is well served by its compositions as well, as it sometimes starts to build to these big big walls of chaos; truth be told, loudness is never this album’s main goal, but it feels so huge that it almost tricks you into thinking you’re submerged by sound, slowly sinking in quicksand.

The record actually maintains quite a lot of elegance, mainly on “Night Horses” and the bewitching closer “Past Light Cone,” which highlight the trombone and the piano respectively. The former has this constant ride groove, almost resembles a swing, but it’s this never-ending march that always keeps the piece in a fancy sense of urgency. I never get tired of this drum groove, and on top of it lies the best part, this monstrous trombone wailing. Imagine for a second a very large truck, now put it in the world’s longest tunnel, and have it honk—that’s just about how every breath gushes out of this trombone. That’s essentially how all its eight minutes go, while the guitar adds some background buzzes and taps, but again I really like how it’s so drawn out, it makes it feel like a really slow and powerful track.

A constant flurry of notes ::

“Past Light Cone” is almost the polar opposite, as the piano sounds crystal clear, and instead of slowly attacking you with chords, it does not sit still for half a second. It’s a constant flurry of notes, while some chords stumble to provide a bit of harmony as well. The piece does grow in size, as some interesting noise joins the piano, but it’s the keys that always keep themselves in the center. It’s really an entrancing way to close off the LP.

That being said, my favorites actually lie in the guitar pieces, which are the opener “Future Light Cone” and “Hollow in the Rock.” There’s also “Method Actor,” which is rather different from the other four tracks, but at the same time it only acts as a brief transition between number one and number three, so it doesn’t leave much of an impact on me. What precedes it absolutely does though; the main reason these two tracks I list as my favorite is because they instantly reminded me of Drowner Yellow Swans‘ self-titled album I hold pretty close. Its opening track “Sandwall” best summarizes why, but that whole record is far more dramatic than anything Mohanna showcases here. And though there may be a lack of noise, the way “Future Light Cone” builds is pretty similar, as this piece relies heavily on its slow and really oppressive atmosphere; each note played repeats various times, and as a new one is added it stacks on top of the ones that are still echoing away. It is, indeed, rather oppressive, almost as if the song was struggling to move forward and was dragging along some weights.

Massive and somber ::

“Hollow in the Rock” is rather similar, though it is also far lighter. I love how distant some of the layers sound, while in the forefront you have these brief phrases that sound really bright and clean. It’s essentially an ambient piece in the end, but one that shows a lot of emotional appeal, as it’s the track in which each component seems to be carefully working alongside the others, building up to far more than just a nice atmosphere.

And with that, I think I can come to the conclusion that this album’s brevity should not lead you to think its impact is understated. It sounds massive and somber, not quite apocalyptic levels of massive and somber, but it sure comes off quite strong. It only leaves me wishing for more, as given the variety, even two hours of these slow soundscapes would likely make me happy. I’ll be satisfied with what I have here for now, but I hope to hear more in this melancholic and decaying style.

Speaker Rotations is available on AKP. [Bandcamp]