Since the release of 2004's Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered and the Sun Shined, Japan's Mono have hollowed their own cave in the mountain that is post-rock. They've incorporated everything from live electronics to orchestral strings and choirs as their harmonic, textural, dynamic, and color palettes have become increasingly more melodic and thematic. On the two simultaneously released albums The Last Dawn and Rays of Darkness, Mono offer starkly contrasting elements of their musical identity to come out the ...
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Since the release of 2004's Walking Cloud and Deep Red Sky, Flag Fluttered and the Sun Shined, Japan's Mono have hollowed their own cave in the mountain that is post-rock. They've incorporated everything from live electronics to orchestral strings and choirs as their harmonic, textural, dynamic, and color palettes have become increasingly more melodic and thematic. On the two simultaneously released albums The Last Dawn and Rays of Darkness, Mono offer starkly contrasting elements of their musical identity to come out the cave's other side. The Last Dawn is the more familiar-sounding of the pair. As its title suggests, this is an ending, a summation, and in executing it as such, the band pursue a much simpler melodic context than they did on For My Parents -- which is not a criticism; if anything what's here is more direct. The slow-building drama and release over the set's six tracks portray the quality of light -- brilliant, golden, soft, warm -- but also contain the hint of its nadir -- physical and emotional. "The Land Between Tides," the set's intro and longest cut -- displays a recognizable architecture. Wind-washed ambience, a repetitive, fingerpicked guitar pattern that underscores, and an emergent, bluesy, solo guitar statement that gives way to layered cellos, violins, drums, and increasingly more aggressive strumming and feedback. A single, soaring, minimal melodic line punches through and ratchets up the intensity (and anxiety) -- illumined by drums almost symphonic in force -- until it has nowhere to go but back to where it came from. This occurs on "Glory," which follows seamlessly, a piano leading the way, strings and guitars following into silence. "Kanata," which in various translations from Kanji means anything from "beyond" to "open field," commences with piano and guitar patterns in a chamber-like interplay before becoming a hypnotic swirl of shoegaze blur. "Cyclone" is nearly processional, an instrumental rocker set in waltz time, and its twinned guitars, bass, drums, and glockenspiel create a void of washed-out bliss. "Elysian Castles" is easily the most lyric thing here, showcasing piano, strings, tom-toms and kick drums, with guitars adorning a near pastoral poignancy. While the lyricism at the start of "Where We Begin" is so gentle as to almost become transparent, it eventually builds to the most emotionally transcendent expression on the album as whirring, exultant guitars revel in ecstasy. The closing title track takes a long time to begin to assert itself, but never quite does. Instead, at the moment of articulation, it is quickly scaled back to its melodic essence before fading away. In total, The Last Dawn is intensely emotional music: uncertainty, tenderness, love, joy, anxiety, and loss all play a part in its unfolding. Musically, it carefully encapsulates everything about Mono's last decade carefully, holistically, and completely. While it stands alone and can be enjoyed separately, it also serves as an entry point for the blasted, bleak roar that is its companion, Rays of Darkness. When paired, they become the first part of an opus. [Part One was also released on LP.] ~ Thom Jurek, Rovi
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