Dark Music Review – The Faceless One

Dark Music Review – The Faceless One

Review by Casey Douglass

The Faceless One is the second part of Ruairi O'Baoighill’s Rueayn Trilogy. I reviewed the first album, Walpurgis, a few weeks ago, and found it to be an occult-infused dose of dark goodness. The Faceless One, takes that mantle and runs with it further down the lane, dishing up another six tracks in a similar vein, along with a couple of bonus tracks thrown in for good measure.

Each track contained on The Faceless One sets the scene for some kind of ritual, whether of conjuration or devotion, and sets the focal sounds in soundscapes that seem to be scraping the edge of hell or purgatory. The first track, Invocation, begins with a maelstrom of buffeting wind-like sound, and it doesn’t take long for the air currents to bring blood curdling screams to the listener's ear, bringing to mind an etheric tornado holding the souls unlucky enough to be inside it captive. The words of the titular invocation begin around the midpoint, but whether the rite is aimed at one soul in particular or the thing that controls the tornado, I don’t know.

Track two, Veil, begins with a single drum beat that rhythmically echoes as it fades. It sounds again, and fades again. An up swell of sound follows, a reaction maybe from whatever is circling nearby, like baiting the sea with chum and seeing a distant fin move closer. That’s quite a good analogy I think, as the sound, besides the hint of whispered voice, sounds a little murky and muffled, a little like being underwater. There are other tones, and the odd chime sounding, that balance the darkness a little, but this felt like a probing, stretching track, the audio equivalent of a face pushing out through a rubbery wall.

Incantation is next, a track that starts with the vigorous sound of some kind of horn. It sounds a number of times before a host of echoing, sacral chanting begins. The tone of the voice rises and falls, seeming to reflect back from unseen corners and strangle angles. There is a hissing sound, snake-like, and a rumbling that creaks around the soundscape. The other stand out sound to me is what sounds like someone breathing, particularly in those moments when the rest of the soundscape falls quieter, a watcher waiting to see the outcome of their actions maybe.

Procession is track four, a funereal soundscape with the sonorous sound of a church bell tolling for who knows who. There is a scratchy string-agitating sound and the occasional gong/cymbal being crashed. The track certainly brings to mind what it might be like to see a host of dark-robed figures wandering deserted streets, the smoke from their censer’s vanishing into the darker shadows around them. It’s the longest track on the album, which further adds to the feeling of going from here to there.

Trancendence is the penultimate track, another gong/cymbal featuring composition, that, along with chanting, seems to feature the mewling of something trying to sing along with the singers. This track brought to mind an old cathedral, the rite happening down below, a strange and twisted thing up in the bell-tower mocking and mimicking the sounds it is hearing. This is one of my favourite tracks, purely for this pleasing idea.

Ritual is the final track, a soundscape that begins with a deep voice chanting, and slowly builds to what sounds like more joining. It sounds a little devotional, and later, the atmosphere of the track seems to react to them, a swarm-like malevolence builds, with thumps and angry energy.

The first of the two bonus tracks is Ceremony, another ‘windy’ drone-led type of track, again featuring a chant, but this one is reedy and hollow, the soundscape itself higher-toned and shimmering. It also features the same sensation created by Trancendence, the notion of something trying to sing along in the distance.

The second of the bonus tracks is Faceless One, a track with a swelling, booming soundscape, the tones and sounds creating a mirage-like shifting effect. It also features a deep guttural voice that sounds clipped and dialled down, suggesting that something is communicating from another realm. Scream-like sounds hang in the air, and the whole thing sounds like the Faceless One is coming to see you. Great stuff.

The Faceless One is another darker than pitch, dark ambient album, one steeped in the miasmic realm that seems to lean so close and yet so far from our every day one. Twisted cries and ritual elements all blend to bring into being something dark and wholly satisfying to enjoy, contemplative and aggressive in equal measure. If you’ve yet to listen to any of Ruairi O'Baoighill’s creations, I urge you to check them out, particularly if you like your dark ambient with occult themes.

Click here to go to The Faceless One on Bandcamp to have a listen and for more info. You might also like to read my review of Walpurgis here.

I was given a copy of this album for review purposes.

Album Title: The Faceless One

Album Artist: Ruairi O'Baoighill

Label: Cursed Monk Records

Released: July 11, 2017

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Dark Music Review – Walpurgis

Dark Music Review – Walpurgis

Review by Casey Douglass

Walpurgis, or ‘witches night’, is a brilliant idea to create some dark ambient around. Ruairi O'Baoighill, a dark ambient/drone artist based in Ireland, has done just that, and it’s certainly a riveting listening experience.

There is a starkness to Ruairi’s tracks on Walpurgis, often seemingly just a few elements interacting or alternating with each other to create dark soundscapes that clutch the mind. He makes great use of vocals, whether in the form of guttural gut-clenching chants or rhythmic invocations to who knows what. He also uses drones and lone drumbeats to puncture the dark bubble that his music conjures, in my mind at least. Throughout the whole of Walpurgis, any mental images that came to me revolved around a small fire, a robed figure nearby and an immense and crushing darkness filling every other part of the space. The effect might be a bit like looking at a photo of the Moon in space, but zooming out until it’s the size of your thumb on the screen. I’m strange, I know.

Walpurgis contains five tracks, each titled with a simple Roman numeral. They all gravitate to around five minutes in length, give or take, saving track five which reaches seven and a half minutes. I felt that each told its own stage of a tale, or rather suggested one.

Track I seemed to very much be an invocation, the pacey vocals and guttural sounds seeming to interact in some kind of battle, the speaker entering into occult conversation with a dark entity at the fringe of the small fire.

Track II seems to be full of whispers and gong-like sounds, maybe containing the aether’s response to the ritual, the performer gaining the attention of the keepers at the gate?

If track II is the response, track III seems to be a reversal of some kind, the banishing of the thing that was called forth. Single bashed-drumbeats and what sounds like shattering metal is joined by ghostly cries and screeches. I saw the fire spitting sparks into the blackness above, and heard a guttural chuntering that hinted at the banishment hurting the thing that is lurking unseen.

Track IV seemed to be a period of respite, the starting drone joining with shimmering notes that rise and vanish again and again. Maybe the caster is waiting to see just what the result of the rite will be.

The last track starts with a warped gong and a muted rumbling, a bit like you might hear underwater during an earthquake. A guttural chant reveals the thing is still there. Ghostly sounds meet with guttural tones (how many times have I said guttural in this review!) as if building to an unleashing of the wrath of something that shouldn't have been called. The more rhythmic invocation begins again near the end, the robed figure trying once more to control the uncontrollable. At this point, you could happily loop back to track one and listen to the whole thing again, seeing it as the figure's second attempt, an attempt doomed to follow the same course. Or maybe we are joining the events mid-loop, the figure and adversary already locked in a sinister struggle for millennia. I don’t know, but I like the thought of it.

I enjoyed the time I spent listening to Walpurgis. I found its various elements conspired to create a surprisingly dark soundscape that grew stronger as time progressed, the twists and variations of these elements seeming to reinforce the feelings of dark energies and abyssal meddlings. Great stuff indeed.

Walpurgis was originally self-released by Ruairi in 2012. This version is a re-mastered release being put out by Cursed Monk Records and comes complete with new artwork. It comes ahead of Ruairi’s new album To See Without Eyes. Visit the Walpurgis page on Bandcamp at this link for more info and be sure to give Track II a listen below:

I was given a free copy of this album for review purposes.

Album Title: Walpurgis

Album Artist: Ruairi O'Baoighill

Label: Cursed Monk Records

Released: March 15, 2017

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