Of the many justly earned superlatives to have been used to describe
Torpor’s music, there is perhaps one that rings most true; cathartic.
There is something undeniably purgative and purifying deep at the
heart of their crushing, heaving blend of noise, sludge, and post metal.
Formed in 2012, their 2015 debut ‘From Nothing Comes Everything’
was a mere hint of what was to come, a larval combination of hooky
riffs, hardcore screams and more experimental dynamics – the only
elements that would survive the seven years hence. Winnowing down
to a three piece, something that would cripple lesser bands gave
Torpor a more vital edge. 2016’s split with Bristol’s answer to Neurosis,
Sonance, saw the band transformed into a more considered form –
world-striding riffs and tectonic rhythms explored as a slow-burn over
long form track lengths.
And then, we waited. Three long years passed as the trio threw
themselves into the subterranean depths of the UK live heavy music
scene, exploring the limits of their suffocating sound in venues that
could barely contain the scopic weight. New tracks rose to the surface
like scalding, viscid bubbles of tar, ideas hammered into shapes ever
more towering.
And now, a rich reward – new album Rhetoric of the Image. From
the chiming, labyrinthine melancholia and claustrophobic depths of
‘Benign Circle’ to the achingly slow unfurling and savage, lumbering
swing of ‘Enigmatic Demand’, ending climactically with the achingly
beautiful, hypnotic and unstoppably triumphant drive of ‘Mourning
The Real’, all tied with a harrowing, guttural vocal lament. This is the
sound of a band continuing to push themselves into ever higher sonic
climbs; the trembling, swelling synths, spoken word poetics and clean
vocal melodies of ‘Two Heads On Gold’ and ‘Mouths Full Of Water,
Throats Full of Ice’ extending tendrils into lush, cinematic soundscapes,
providing caesurae from the raging, bleak tempest of their heavier
depths.
Torpor’s music, there is perhaps one that rings most true; cathartic.
There is something undeniably purgative and purifying deep at the
heart of their crushing, heaving blend of noise, sludge, and post metal.
Formed in 2012, their 2015 debut ‘From Nothing Comes Everything’
was a mere hint of what was to come, a larval combination of hooky
riffs, hardcore screams and more experimental dynamics – the only
elements that would survive the seven years hence. Winnowing down
to a three piece, something that would cripple lesser bands gave
Torpor a more vital edge. 2016’s split with Bristol’s answer to Neurosis,
Sonance, saw the band transformed into a more considered form –
world-striding riffs and tectonic rhythms explored as a slow-burn over
long form track lengths.
And then, we waited. Three long years passed as the trio threw
themselves into the subterranean depths of the UK live heavy music
scene, exploring the limits of their suffocating sound in venues that
could barely contain the scopic weight. New tracks rose to the surface
like scalding, viscid bubbles of tar, ideas hammered into shapes ever
more towering.
And now, a rich reward – new album Rhetoric of the Image. From
the chiming, labyrinthine melancholia and claustrophobic depths of
‘Benign Circle’ to the achingly slow unfurling and savage, lumbering
swing of ‘Enigmatic Demand’, ending climactically with the achingly
beautiful, hypnotic and unstoppably triumphant drive of ‘Mourning
The Real’, all tied with a harrowing, guttural vocal lament. This is the
sound of a band continuing to push themselves into ever higher sonic
climbs; the trembling, swelling synths, spoken word poetics and clean
vocal melodies of ‘Two Heads On Gold’ and ‘Mouths Full Of Water,
Throats Full of Ice’ extending tendrils into lush, cinematic soundscapes,
providing caesurae from the raging, bleak tempest of their heavier
depths.