Review Summary: It's no SAW3, but it's the thought that counts.
“The last month or so, I've been dealing with a depression that worsens by the day. Some days, I am just so tired and down that I don't even want to get out of my somnolence. Rather than come onto this account and complain about my sorrow and negativity, I've decided to put my feelings into some music, something I've done before, but not to this calibur. For the past month, I've been working on an album. An experimental album. With tastes of ambient, drone, and even some noise thrown in. I feel as though that these tracks I've accumulated really represent my thoughts, emotions, and frame of mind. A soundtrack to depression, if you will. While these might not be my best songs, they certainly speak the loudest. While they might be simplistic in nature, they are some of the most powerful tracks I've ever created."
When I say the word “ambient,” what do you envision? Ocean waves, chirping birds, rustling leaves, serenading you to sleep as you drift away on a mental vacation? How about pianos, atmospheric pads, harmonious choirs humming each soft, droning chord for seconds at a time - or even the trippier side of the spectrum – programmed synth pads doling out an assortment of sounds similar to those in the old sci-fi movies? Generally, when people listen to what they call “ambient music,” their experience is a thing of peace, wonder, and beauty.
The Thought That Counts, a dark, experimental ambient album by a vastly unknown New York teen who calls himself AnonyWolf, is about as beautiful as Marilyn Manson in a wedding dress (wait, that actually happened once, didn’t it?). It’s a deliciously dreadful concoction of sadness and horror, apparently designed to bring the listener down into the severe depression the creator had been suffering through the winter months of 2012.
The beginning title track is relatively nonchalant, stretching four chords into 7 minutes of space-like tidal waves of cheerful melancholy. The true nature of this aural torture chamber of an album is realized by the second track, “Will 'O The Wisp,” which is essentially 9 minutes and 57 seconds of howling wind and screeching whistles. By track 6, AnonyWolf has created a niche for the album, filled with the tortured screams of what sound like ghosts caught halfway between Purgatory and Hell, engulfed in bellowing noise, droning bass, and echoing static which one can never be fully sure is intentional. Every now and again, one will be allowed a few seconds of silence in which to regain composure; sometimes the horror will carry on through three tracks without pause or mercy.
Wolf’s knack for consistency in the midst of unpredictable experimentation, which has been seen in other albums such as 2011’s Off The Air (We Want Snow!), actually proves to be a downfall for him here, because many of the tracks whose main element is repetition tend to carry on long after the track should have faded into something new. He turns a variety of tricks throughout the album, but his favorite seems to be to immensely slow down very short sound clips and play them on repeat for several eternities. The album progressively becomes noisier, more repetitive and more disorienting by the minute, to the point where it becomes unbearable. Eventually, the experience resembles no longer an ambient thriller, and feels instead more like a bad acid trip, although perhaps that was his exact intention.
This album is the horror movie you’ll never see, and if you do experience it, you’ll likely never want to hear it again, but you’ll be talking about it for weeks or months afterward (probably to a psychologist). I’m sure AnonyWolf was just trying to create an outlet where he could channel his negative existence into something positive. Of course, that isn’t at all what happened, but hey – it’s the thought that counts.
Favorite Tracks:
Lucid Dreaming, The Thought That Counts, The Horror, In The End, Nightmare Suite
Least Favorite:
Will 'O The Wisp
