Complexity takes on different forms in music – in many cases, utilizing certain techniques that create an illusory experience for the average listener in which things seem considerably simpler than they are. Meshuggah’s bending “polyrhythmics”, for instance, seem like the average chugging rhythms ever-present within metal, yet they feature some of the most intricate time changes known to musicians and music-listeners worldwide.
Similarly, post-metal bands like Giant Squid arrange their music in multiple layers, creating an atmosphere much like a classical piece would, taking something that seems like just a beautiful wave of sound on the surface, but is indeed much more. However, on The Ichthyologist, the band takes things farther than mere composition, as the pieces also have conceptual meaning to them, representing a partially autobiographical tale courtesy of multi-instrumentalist/songwriter Aaron Gregory. The album instantly varies from their previous effort Metridium Field, with the presence of Jackie Perez Gratz of Amber Asylum and Grayceon fame, whose soft, delicate vocals and cello passages are easily the album’s most striking elements. In fact, be it her soaring duet with Anneke van Giersbergen of The Gathering in “Sevengilll”, or the haunting drawl of her cello in “Rubicon Wall”, it’s quite difficult to imagine the album without her, especially with the latter tracks being the strongest on the album.
The concept itself is perhaps even on par with Mastodon’s 2009 masterpiece Crack the Skye, as it tells the gripping tale of “a man stripped of his humanity and left with nothing but the sea in front of him” who is forced to adapt “in inhuman ways to survive the shock of human loss and total emotional tragedy, becoming something else entirely in the process”. At first the concept’s relation to the music seems vague in comparison to concept albums by other bands, but as it progresses one can truly see how Perez Gratz’ accompaniment to Gregory, both vocally and musically, serves as the female voice of his lost love. The music is very much like the ocean that surrounds the protagonist, as it can be a tranquil haven at one moment, but quickly turn into a ravaging, god-like force. Interestingly, the concept comes from a graphic novel of the same name written by Gregory, so perhaps that could serve as an interesting accompaniment to the music, and a guide in fully understanding the concept.
Perhaps the only shortcoming to this release is that, though the story it tells is a great one, it lacks coherency in telling it musically in comparison to albums like Opeth’s Still Life and Converge’s Jane Doe. It presents itself as an album of epic proportions, yet it doesn’t completely follow through on its proposal as it seems musically, and conceptually, forced. More than anything, however, it seems as if Giant Squid are still warming up to their sound (it would make sense considering line-up changes), and have yet to reach a point of comfort where the creative juices will flow naturally, rather than forcefully.
(7.9/10)
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