Intronaut - Habitual Levitations (Instilling Words with Tones)
I’m not usually a Prog person, but as they say… every Prog has its day. I hope I don’t get put in the Prog house for this one, but I love Intronaut. I’ve loved Intronaut ever since 2008’s breakthrough Prehistoricisms. Who doesn’t like to do it Proggy style every now and then? Where my Progs at? It’s a Prog eat Prog world out there, but this So-Cal quartet stand out from the pack. They’re one of those rare outfits who can wander off into outer space without leaving the listener behind. Even when their sprawling compositions resemble impromptu jam sessions, they still feel like songs. I guess you can teach an old Prog new tricks. It helps that we’re dealing with an all-star lineup here. Danny Walker (Murder Construct, ex-Uphill Battle, ex-Exhumed, ex-Phobia, and former live drummer for Jesu) always lays the perfect foundation with a staggering display of virtuoso timekeeping in league with that other good drummer named Danny who also knows a thing or two about walking the Prog. His playing is expansive yet focused, aggressive yet mellow, a guide Prog for the endless array of equally adventurous riff soup. Sacha Dunable (Bereft, ex-Anubis Rising) also plays a huge part in keeping the proceedings cohesive and all-encompassing with his ghostly croon. It’s no coincidence that as his clean singing continually improves, the band “levitates” further away from their early Sludgecore leanings toward more palatable Post-Rock territory. On Habitual Levitations, his gruff bark (sorry) is barely employed compared to past efforts. Luckily the roaring distortion, gale-force riffs, and occasional high-energy chug-along ensure that not all of the heaviness is sacrificed at the behest of experimentation and interstellar musicianship. And on that note, we come to the brightest jewel in the Intronaut crown: bass god Joe Lester (ex-Mouth of the Architect). All I can say is beware of Prog. This dude’s playing is on an otherworldly level. He’s spinning cosmic spiderwebs on that fretboard, people. His fingers taught Fred Astaire how to dance. It’s like some kind of low-frequency Bob Ross painting. Listening to this guy play is pure therapy. When Joe Lester starts plucking, I’m on vacation. It’s fucking magic. Other than the 2+ minutes of annoying abstract noise that close the record out, this is flawless. Gourmet Prog chow in a sea of kibbles and bits. Give a Prog a bone.
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