The Haxan Cloak: The Men Parted The Sea To Devour The Water
This is bloody brilliant. Or to put it in considerably more pretentious prose…
During the opening eight minutes of The Haxan Cloak’s latest, the computer screen, the keyboard and the sampler step up to replace the polished obsidian of old as a gilded host of celestial angels are scryed forth. Their post-Enochian communication seems intent on smothering and undermining any sense of rationality and reason you might hold and cherish. As this heavenly chorus gives way to the earthy and terrestrial rhythms of ritual drums, the voodoo priest, the shamanic traveller of worlds or some other representative of the occluded arts materialises.
Of course, the meaning of the Haxan Cloak’s message here is as opaque as that delivered by any milky-eyed bedraggled oracle. Yet as the peels of post-rave chimes engulf the work and that sound emerges – that incredible sound that leads to that ending – the uncertainty of meaning is only one of this album’s pleasures and delights.
This is sound engineering and invention of the highest order. Offer yourself to The Haxan Cloak here.