Review Summary: A Hell with no fire, no foundation, and no forgiveness.
"Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people."
~Inferno, Dante Alighieri
Listening to Mono's new album
Requiem for Hell hearkens back to my old days as a young Catholic boy going to church. I remember I was always a shy and tepid kid and, in my lack of understanding, always feared the architectural style of Roman Catholic churches. From its overwhelming height to its curved Rosicrucian waves and shapes to the crucifix hung above the large organ that towered over the congregation with such size and figure; I could always feel this uncertainty that would eventually bubble over into anxiety-filled terror. I can remember that organ and its tunes very clearly; a bellowing melody that spread throughout the large church as a hymn would be played with such godly force of talent and will that I would be a fool to not appreciate. The thing that scared me the most, of course, was the crucifix. It is hard to exactly pinpoint what part of the crucifix made me afraid to go to church, because I can't quite remember why anymore. I would figure it was the ghostly face of a dying Jesus, or perhaps the idea of a hanging corpse statue being worshiped by people of all ages. It almost seemed like some dark cult obsessed with death, rebirth, and suffering. A three-hour mass filled to the brim with manic hymns, passionate worship, and endless Latin proverbs and pieces. It was madness; a beautiful madness that I never appreciated or understood until my later years.
With
Requiem for Hell, Mono have channeled that sense of fear and confusion that plagued my younger church-going days. Their title track maintains an over seventeen-minute long length. This epic is a large combination of sensitive guitar playing, massive distortion blackouts, and continuous tone changes from somber, to peaceful, to violent. One cannot help but feel overwhelmed and unprepared for the sheer ambition of the track itself; a track which so unapologetically bombards you with so many emotions, instruments, and compositions without giving you a second to breathe. The guitars are played with such discipline that not a single tune feels out of place, it is almost as if every single note was ordained to be there. In that sense, it maintains an almost creepy sense of perfection, a perfection that scares you because you fear all is not what it seems.
Other tracks, like
Ely's Heartbeat provide a more subtle sound. It starts with some keyboard tones as small gurgle noises and weird distorted static can be heard in the background. Soon, the guitar is given center stage, and it echoes over the entire track with such tremendous authority. The drums are played extraordinarily slow, this gives the drummer time to add power and force to his craft. He doesn't just drum, he pounds. With every beat we can feel the absolute force that hits the drums as the guitars ascend to higher states of distortion and echo stability. The first track of the entire album,
Death in Rebirth, follows this same structure to a degree, but with a different emotion in mind. The track starts off with a distorted guitar first as drums and more symphonic guitar elements jump in. Every thing is played with a more aggressive outlook that rightly establishes the general feeling of the record itself.
The Last Scene is by far the softest track on the entire album. Every single instrument is inserted at certain points with a weak beginning, from small cymbal taps to simple guitar string plucks with a touch of echo. These symphonic elements provide the listener with a beautiful composition that relaxes the mind and body, but does not ease the soul. Despite its peaceful structure, it is designed with caution, and certain melodies within it make us feel as if it is hiding something from us. That fear and uncertainty allows Mono to keep you hooked, to keep you desperate for an answer you will never get.
Stellar brings in violins and more poignant pianos to the table, which gives us a small, yet impactful, addition to the record.
Requiem for Hell brings back a feeling I thought I had forgotten forever. That feeling of overwhelming power, confused fear, and strange uncertainty. With its precise structures, epic composition, and inventive tones, Mono craft the softest nightmare for the human mind. The terror, however, is not obvious. At first glance it can be little more than confusing, but as it goes on, the feeling never stops, and our need to end this unease can eventually grow into something much worse. With this album Mono ask an almost unthinkable question. What would happen if Lucifer and his demons suddenly got fed up and left Hell forever？ I could imagine thousands of cursed souls rampaging throughout this abandoned Hell, no longer watched over or forced to do anything. These souls would turn it into their own depraved playground of insanity. As eons pass though, the fires of Hell die from not being stoked and the rampaged souls grow tired and weary as Hell simply becomes a black void filled with the echoes of curses and moans. With
Requiem for Hell Mono have given us a completely reworked Hell; a Hell with no fire, no foundation, and no forgiveness.
