“Weaving words into the air.”
The Kardashev scale is a quantifiable measure of a civilization’s appraisal of technological advancement that is predicated on how much energy it can securely amass and use. Inconsequential of whether you’re an astrophysical scholar that was already aware of this or a zealous vagabond in search of a sonic avenue that is benevolently antithetical to the proceeding subject at hand, it is pertinent to keep this in mind.
Death metal—much to what could be the minimalistic indifference of its most hardened proponents—has maintained a superficial approach to lyricism and thematic undertones throughout the course of its run. This is an inherent expectation. Sadism, depravity, and evil. The worst tendencies of humanity and existential suffering. The philosophy and ethos of nature are intermittently prospected, but the lowest common denominator from the standpoint of expression remains. To even peripherally fathom that such a genre could branch to the poetic diction of altruism, introspection, and ideation of human emotion as the parabolic converse of what it represented for so long seems implausible.
Deriving their namesake from Nikolai Kardashev’s theoretical flagship, Kardashev has been on a stargazing journey since 2012. Death metal and shoegaze are schismatic spectrums regarding musical union. Such an amalgamation can be executed incorrectly in many ways. What’s more likely is that there are no correct means to create and sustain it. But what Kardashev has proven in their thirteen-year planetary voyage beyond any shadow of a doubt is that deathgaze is a concept that cannot be replicated. As concisely defined as the term that has inspired them, Kardashev has elegantly harnessed the vitality of these genres and purely-natured subject matter for over a decade. Suppose we were to gauge Kardashev’s threshold for acoustic ability. In that case, it may be fair to conclude that the results would break the scale overwhelmingly in their favor and perhaps even reset the standard for calculating evolutionary aptitude.
Following the release of their debut album, Peripety, in 2015, Kardashev deservingly coined the deathgaze genre. With the successive output of LPs, The Almanac and The Baring of Shadows, as well as their most recent full-length examination in 2022 with Liminal Rite, herein lies a clear deduction: deathgaze is a paradoxical abstraction that—at this point—cannot be reproduced by anyone else. Past, present, future; Kardashev are at the astronomical forefront of a niche that has defied death metal staples to the most sympathetically prepossessing extent possible. Dreamscape virtue and technical ferocity are overlayed with allegorical elegies concerning our microscopic yet pivotal existence relative to the universe. This is another partition of Kardashev’s evaluation of metaphysical conjecture and the overarching subject of their newest omnibus and pinnacle of focus, Alunea.
As with their former releases, Alunea is another esoteric trek. In this case, two souls that have faced defeat share a recollective conversation on the value of existence based on that experience. “A Precipice. A Door.” opens Alunea in atmospheric fashion. It is the introduction of misguided individuals. Bombastically crushing in sections that lament personal vanquishment and strife whilst swiftly transitioning to shoegaze ambience in realizing the worst is behind them, Alunea’s opening track sets the reflective event horizon for which its preordained souls are set to meet. Adapting further on what has continued to keep them in a standalone class, Kardashev’s auditory capacity immediately displays further progression. Vocalist Mark Garrett flawlessly oscillates between techniques to match the instrumental prowess and somber performances of guitarist Nico Mirolla, bassist Alex Rieth, and drummer Sean Lang. From the onset of Alunea, listeners will realize the multi-color periscope of Kardashev’s sound has yet again been shaded with new variations.
Our fateful Sky brothers convene on “Reunion”. Somewhat unfamiliar to each other, yet connected by the solar past, we hear one of the more soulful tracks of Alunea and Kardashev’s entire catalogue. More profoundly derivative of pure tech and prog death amidst the confusion of the travelers, “Reunion” builds on the opening song’s palette of intertwined luminous notes with an effectively strung together sequence of sectional shifts. We sometimes wrestle with the idea of having met someone before. The belief that when you are introduced to another and there is a semblance of interpersonal amicability, there is a strong likelihood that you have crossed paths at a previous juncture. “Reunion” is the metrical dialogue that, in some ways, offers a nuanced outlook of that notion.
We then seamlessly transition into “Seed of the Night”. With the focal point of this chapter being personal growth, Garrett’s operatic vocals are more omnipresent in place of his Travis Ryan-similar growls that were besting the gravitational pull of the first two songs. Regardless of the disparity, Garrett fits in a couple of quick gamma ray bursts of highs and lows to keep listeners more than honest from the perspective of deathgaze appreciation. With Mirolla’s expressive guitar tones, another standout and quintessential aspect of Kardashev’s methodology becomes auditorily distinct. In this case, Mirolla’s knack for giving the allure of secondary vocals through fervent riff and solo technique. Combined with galactically fractal production and mixing, it is little wonder that every composition on Kardashev’s extensive body of work sounds irrefutably unique.
“Speak Silence” showcases our lost nomads probing causality for existence. When we question those who made us, are we inadvertently querying ourselves? If that is to be founded, do we retain enough personal trust to forge the roots of another civilization? Befitting Alunea’s most philosophically enriched track, Kardashev pulls out all the interstellar stops from anthemic choruses to layered vocalization over progressive fills and riffs. For as much as the song’s message will have listeners contemplating empirical formation, the same could be said for the raw instrumentals. Rieth and Lang are the unequivocal champions in that respect.
Truth in being. A simplistic proposition with hardly any rudimentary explanations. In its most basic form, it is the suggestion that to understand truth, one must first grasp the cardinal nature of reality beyond the surface of everyday perception. Froth with emotion on both ends of Kardashev’s trademark gamut, “Truth to Form” is the Sky brothers coming to terms with where they fit into their corporeal sincerity. Masterfully conveyed by way of another deathgaze epic, Kardashev compels listeners to reconcile where their physical genuineness lies. “Truth to Form” is Illustrative of the high variance of feeling that this amount of contemplation could result in and evokes a painstaking counterbalance of prog death barbarity and multi-dimensional emanation.
Both tragic and reassuring, an inescapable part of the human experience is that everything is temporary. None can break free of it. Those who selfishly wish to avoid that fate may find more turmoil. Accepting that you are not meant to be here forever, in essence, results in us being more appreciative of the triumphs in life, even when defeats fragmentally reappear. Thus far on Alunea, that has been the foremost message. With its characters having shared, bonded, and conversed over the qualitative value of their experiences based upon a recent loss, we now reach a disagreement and the boiling point on “Edge of Forever”. Far and away the darkest stage of Alunea, this song is the closest listeners get to becoming fully consumed by the black hole hovering above the Sky brothers. With a couple of brief sections of assumable attempts at compromise, “Edge of Forever” bursts into a supernova engulfed with rage. Pure death dominates the desolate landscape of this installment.
In what appears to be a sudden change of heart that spares their universe, the Sky brothers of Alunea amend their differences on “We Could Fold the Stars”. Contrastingly structured, sporadic portions of fury quickly extinguish into wistful moments of serenity. Ultimately, the Sky brothers that Kardashev recall perhaps realize their existence is still worth experiencing despite the regrettable string of events that have brought them together. On “We Could Fold the Stars”, the heavier moments hit with the force of a wrathful solar storm. This, in turn, makes the breaking of the flares on the song’s more tranquil moments virtually hypnotic. With the penultimate phase of Alunea at its end, Kardashev—like the ever-reliable authors of thought-provoking deathgaze they have been since the beginning—are ready to implore us one last time to contemplate the very fabric of our anima.
Juxtaposing the realm in which Alunea has narrated this tale, Kardashev ends on a foundational note concerning the process by which we exist. The Sky brothers—along with us as listeners—may have found themselves in the unending cosmos of the universe, but that does not erase the undeniable fact that we all share common roots. “Below Sun & Soil” ends Alunea in a way that humanizes its characters and indulgers alike. Systematically molded with every discernible component that has made this album and deathgaze remarkably exceptional, the closer is likely meant to remind us of an obvious yet provocative mantra relating to how we as individuals come to be. Kardashev, as they have done in every instance prior, has published a grand collection of sonically written epochs no one else has found the blueprint for. When fully digesting what Alunea has to offer, many will find that they may have discovered a newfound part of their identity and been given an honest push to be their best selves.
Alunea is another addition to the top section of Kardashev’s proverbial deathgaze bookshelf that has taken every idiosyncratic aspect of their previous work and consolidated it into their true magnum opus of anthologies. Challenging death metal bedrock on every page, Kardashev has not only tipped the scale to a degree that ensures they will be the sole exhibitionists of deathgaze for years to come, but that they are meant to be its lone titlists. Alunea cements Kardashev’s rightful place atop the solitary pillar of practitioners with an incomparable threshold for finding tangible and perpetual beauty within brutality.
9/10
Alunea releases on April 25th through Metal Blade Records, and you can preorder it here.