New releases last two weeks: Post Rock/Experimental

Review: Dense, brooding riffs, macro-melodic tidal waves... Pelican's signature blend of post-metal-sludge is a piscine gulping of tsnuami-sound. Formed in the proverbially thalassic sonic expanse of Chicago, this band flocked together in 2000 at the core whim of guitarists Trevor Shelley de Brauw and Laurent Schroeder-Lebec. Radically, Pelican initially described their approach to music creation as "rule-free", mirroring the perception of 1990s Chicago as a barbaric "free-for-all" in which an empty beaker of potential was confronted, and partially refilled, by the oceanic outpouring that was experimental post-rock. Long after their debut Australasia (2003) and career-migrations such as City Of Echoes and Arktika, came Flickering Resonance (2022), a record which was deemed to reflect a more "humanistic side of the band." The bleak landscapes evoked on 'Cascading Crescent' and 'Indelible' are no discourager for this band; they still maintain cavalcades of riffing stridencies and amphibious drumming.

Review: Wilson Tanner steps on solid ground with Legends, a pastoral odyssey steeped in the rhythms of South Australia's Manon Farm. Swapping coastal breezes for the dusty toil of the vineyard, the duo channel the grit of farm life: dirt-crusted boots, crackling radios, and the far-off hum of summer crickets. Their previous works basked in suburban lethargy and nautical drift, but here, the focus is on the raw textures of agricultural labor, where ducks and dogs roam, tractors rumble past, and stainless steel tanks glint in the sun. Made entirely off-grid, the Manon sessions repurpose wind, brass, balalaika, and synth, rigged together with wire and tape. Legends distills the essence of natural winemaking into sound: feral, unfiltered, and alive with imperfections. Overflowing with rustic charm and irreverent humour, it's a heady swirl of folklore and fermentation, bottled straight from the land.