Kremator - "Return" (2017)

KREMATOR "Return"

Year: 2017
Genre: Atavistic Mulchcore
Country: USA

Track list:

1. Decrepit
2. Agency
3. Wander
4. Permeated
5. Thirst
6. Together
7. Sustenance
8. Return
9. Espere

Bandcamp // Facebook

Kremator is an undeniably unique project, and is almost entirely unlike anything I've heard before. Aiming to create nature-inspired atmospheric grindcore (christened "atavistic mulchcore" by the band's solo member), the highly experimental music makes heavy use of drums and guttural vocals in a style reminiscent of traditional grindcore, but differs in that generally no other instrumentation is used, save the recorded sounds of the artist breathing into a microphone. The only instance of traditional instrumentation in "Return" is acoustic guitar on the final track. 

Lyrically, the aim was to create "a mixture I would call atavistic anarcho-communism. The idea was to "Return" to a forest to get away from the destruction of life in a capitalistic hellhole of a post-industrial city." It charts the flight from civilisation at a personal level, escaping from "this decrepit city" in the first track, and slowly exploring and discussing the artist's ideology through the rest of the album. Most of the music was inspired by trips to the Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks, and it reads as an acutely intimate piece of art, with a tangible sense of, to use his own word, "atavistic" longing, a desperate desire for simpler life in a rain-shrouded forest, away from the choking filth we are surrounded with by modern society.

The final two tracks present, in very different ways, an impassioned and profound cry directed at those of us who cling to civilisation - in "Return", the lyrics provide the call directly; "The fires shall burn for you /Won’t you come and be with us /To be back in the wild". Once the echoes of "Return" fade away, the final track, "Espere", (a name which, I discovered after extensive Googling, is a first-person form of an old French verb meaning "to wait", "to hope", or "to expect") holds not only the lovely allusions in the title, conveying layers of meaning plain English couldn't hope to accomplish, but also the song itself is the only instrumental track on the album, 40 seconds of gentle acoustic guitar closing the album in a soft kind of melancholic hope for a greener future.

The music is extremely experimental, and is a long way from stereotypical easy listening, but despite the challenging sound the message beneath is heartfelt, deeply personal, and beautiful. Definitely worth a listen if you're looking to broaden your horizons.

T.G.