SELBST – DESPONDENCY CHORD PROGRESSIONS

(Andy Synn delves into the depths of the new album from Selbst, out this Friday)

I remember saying, way back in 2020 when Selbst released their second album, Relatos de angustia, that I wished the band could have received even half as much attention and acclaim as their Portuguese peers in Gaerea had gotten for their breakthrough release, Limbo, the month before.

To be clear, I didn’t say that to cast shade on Gaerea by any means – I’m looking forward to their new album immensely – it was more of a comment on how the media hype cycle for one artist/album can easily, and unintentionally, end up burying many equally deserving records.

Hopefully, however, that won’t happen this time (although there’s a new Blaze of Perdition album also coming out this week) as Despondency Chord Progressions thoroughly deserves not to have its thunder stolen by anyone or anything else.

The more I think about it, however, the more I wonder if perhaps that’s not quite the right metaphor to use.

That’s not to say that Selbst don’t still have their moments of storm-driven fury – opener “La encarnación de todos los miedos”, for instance is five-and-a-half minutes of whirlwind drums and wailing leads (think an even more melodic and electrifyingly elemental Misþyrming) that kicks things off in an appropriately thunderous manner – it’s more that the primary focus of this album seems, to my ears at least, to be the conjuring and crafting of layer upon layer of darkness and despair (and, yes, despondency) to provide an experience which is perhaps less immediate, but more immersive overall.

This, to my mind, becomes obvious when listening to the likes of “When True Loneliness is Experienced” and “Chant of Self Confrontation” (both of which are streamable now in advance of the album’s release this Friday), with the former slowly evolving from a blank, empty canvas to a vivid and vibrant array of moody, almost bluesy, melodies, proggy percussive patterns (courtesy of drummer Jonathan Heredia) and captivating clean vocals (all building to a cathartic, incandescent climax), while the latter’s intricate interweaving of restrained power and raging emotion, sombre melody and subtle dissonance, reveals new aspects of itself with every listen.

Thus, as you may have guessed, it’s safe to say that Despondency Chord Progressions isn’t the sort of album that gives up all its secrets straight away – indeed, the more reflective nature of the album (on a par with the likes of Infestus and Schammasch at their most solipsistic) practically demands the listener pay close and careful attention at all times in order to get the most out of it.

But the rich rewards for doing so, during songs such as the brooding, shapeshifting “The One Who Blackens Everything” or the slow-blooming corpse-flower that is “The Stench of a Dead Spirit”, are ultimately worth far more as a result.

That being said, I’d imagine even the most casual of ears won’t be able to resist the seething intensity and spiralling leads of “Third World Wretchedness” or, on the opposite end of the scale, the melancholy minimalism of “Between Seclusion and Obsession”, and once they’ve been hooked – and, with its plethora of lethally infectious lead guitar melodies, Despondency Chord Progressions isn’t lacking in hooks, despite its more introspective approach – I’m going to guess that most of them will be unable to defy the urge to dig even deeper.

So here is where I beg you not to sleep on this album, or this band, any longer – sure, other releases may have more hype, more promotion, more notoriety, but Despondency Chord Progressions has so much substance to it, the sort that only truly begins to reveal itself over time, that it deserves, and demands, to be appreciated on an even deeper level. But whether you’re willing to do that is entirely up to you.