Absence by True Colour Of Blood (Review)

These are vast recordings, traveling from the deepest crypts to the furthest reaches of space.
Absence, True Colour of Blood

Chances are, whenever Eric Kesner tells people that he’s a guitarist, the first image that pops into their mind is of some long haired, spandex-clad rocker wielding his Les Paul or Stratocaster like an extension of his machismo, rocking out with scorching leads and hot fretwork that drive the female groupies crazy. Which is to say, the complete opposite of what Kesner does.

Rather, picture someone hunched over his effects pedals as if in prayer, painstakingly coaxing sounds from his instrument. And for good measure, you might want to picture this all taking place in some abandoned crypt or dank cavern. That’s the sort of imagery that’s more in line with Kesner’s dark, isolated soundscapes, which have much more in common with Lustmord and Caul than any so-called guitar god.

It’s worth pointing out that everything on this album — every atmosphere, drone, chant, and sonic wash — is done with a guitar. Such a declaration may not mean much in most circles, but in ambient music, with its incredible reliance on synths and programming, it makes Kesner’s compositions all the more impressive, especially on such minimal and tensely atmospheric tracks as “Close Your Eyes and It Appears” (which, in its own quiet way, more than lives up to its ominous title).

These are vast recordings, traveling from the deepest crypts and hidden places in the earth (the aptly titled “Oracles Of A Dead King”) to the furthest reaches of space (“Non Ens,” which seems composed entirely of background cosmic radiation). Given Kesner’s sole reliance on the guitar, the first comparison that immediately comes to my mind is Scott Cortez’ lovesliescrushing — but only if you imagine Cortez’ 12-string caught within the maw of a black hole, or crushed within the depths of the Marianas trench.

Considering the barren imagery and alien landscapes that Kesner’s music so easily conjures up, Absence can be a daunting and strenuous album to make it through, especially considering that 5 of the disc’s 8 tracks reach past the 8-minute mark. Thankfully, Kesner does provide brief moments of respite from his crushing sounds.

“Anamorphoris” is particularly gorgeous, its celestial tones evoking a sense of awe and wonder. “My Favourite Streetlight” is another “lighter” track, one that moves slightly more into the light and has a certain intimacy to it that some of the other tracks lack. That being said, even these lighter moments still have a tendency to make the listener feel small and insignificant, suddenly aware of their tenuous place in the cosmos. Which is something that one doesn’t usually associate with even the greatest of guitar gods, and which makes plumbing the considerable depths of Kesner’s compositions all the more rewarding.

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