World, Interrupted
When You See Me, Run
self-released
We haven’t heard anything from World, Interrupted since 2021, and if the music on their latest EP is any indication, things haven’t gotten any less bleak for the Polish darkwavers. While their preceding EP was a direct result and response to the global pandemic and the associated feelings of hopelessness and isolation, the songs on 2024’s When You See Me, Run suggest a larger world of emotions and ideas, if not a more upbeat one. Bookend cuts “Mirror” and “No Turning Back” use the same template the band established back in 2021, a kind of classic gravely serious European darkwave with some modern electro touches, expanded into much more aggressive territory; the former has heavier drums and more dancefloor oriented bass programming, while the latter injects plenty of staticky noise into the mix, conveying both fragility and turmoil. The two Polish-language tracks have a certain mystique all their own, “Nocny Ptak” using layered vocals to create deeper, more funereal moods that match its screechy guitar figures, and “Sama” splitting the difference between moody ambience and its clacky, tumbling percussion. The production is thicker without sacrificing too much of the lo-fi charm previously established, one gets the impression that World, Interrupted aren’t interested in anything that might detract from their austere and foreboding approach to modern darkwave.
Hexophthalma
K.J. Anderssons Mardröm
Fluttering Dragon Records
A new collaboration between Tomasz Borowski of dark ambient project Fomalhaut and Fredrik Djurfeldt (of too many projects to name here), Hexopthalma’s debut taps into a rich conceptual vein and finds a register of menacing, solemn death industrial to suit. Named for a venomous spider which lives in the deserts of the Skeleton Coast of Namibia and inspired by the shipwrecks which mark that coast and the genocides which occurred there (we can always trust Djurfeldt to draw our attention to the lesser known atrocities of colonialism), Hexopthalma is a decidedly brooding bit of business. While pure crawling distortion is present throughout its seven tracks, it’s generally kept to the role of slowly and hypnotically looping while chilly harmonic pads and sine waves cast over the desert landscape the music is meant to evoke.”Giant Huntsmans hemska bett”, with its wet drips pattering across deep, toneless drones and occasionally punctuated by distorted winds and voices, is a prime example. Longtime aficionados of death industrial and Djurfeldt’s various entryways into that world will know that contrary to its reputation for pure abrasive noise, it’s a style which can prompt solemn and even peaceful reflection and contemplation, and as this record shows, even tilt towards the cinematic soundtracking of a beautiful, if foreboding, landscape.
