(This is our Gonzo’s review of the first new album from Neurosis in a decade, a surprise drop last week from the band’s Neurot Recordings.)
We live in a world where it’s exceedingly difficult to keep secrets.
When it comes to new music, fans tend to catch wind of things well in advance. That’s all by design, of course. The ubiquity of streaming platforms and social media has long since given a bullhorn to every band on the planet that wants to tease “big news coming soon,” and honestly, I think we’ve all grown a little numb to those tactics.
So, when I woke up to the news last Friday (March 20) that Neurosis had not only reunited some time ago under a veil of total clandestineness, but also added post-metal demigod Aaron Turner as a fulltime member, and dropped a new album with zero fanfare, zero advanced warning, and zero indications that the band was anything other than long-dormant, the shock factor probably could’ve been mistaken for actual Bay Area seismic activity.
Obviously, this left me with a lot of fucking ground to cover.
Photos by Bobby Cochran
First, the elephant in the room: I don’t think it’s necessary to delve into the drama that left this band in stasis back in 2019. If you’re reading this, I’d even venture to say there’s probably nothing new I could tell you about it. The tumultuous departure of founding member Scott Kelly seemed to signal the end of a long, inimitable run for Neurosis that broke countless barriers for heavy music across three decades. It was as surprising as it was unfortunate, and it left most observers fearing that the band would cease to exist as we knew it.
Fast forward seven years, and their unlikely comeback can be attributed at least in part to Turner ostensibly filling Kelly’s shoes. And on paper, is there a more salivation-worthy replacement?
Probably not.
An Undying Love for a Burning World picks up the post-metal torch right from the vaunted chalice in which Steve Von Till and company left it seven years ago—right where the Fires Within Fires were still burning. Right as I excitedly tapped “Play,” this album wasted zero time in seizing my undivided attention. “We Are Torn Wide Open” is a 52-second shouted chorus that does what so many other “intro” tracks don’t do: Say something meaningful.
It lays the groundwork perfectly for what’s to come. If “We Are Torn Wide Open” is the calm before the storm, follow-up “Mirror Deep” is the tornado that sweeps you up and nonchalantly drops you like a bomb on a schoolhouse twelve miles away. The off-time angular riffs, Von Till’s telltale gruff howl, the cathartic dissonance—it’s all here in the first minute. It’s not so much a continuation of where Neurosis left off with Fires, but a rejuvenation that reassembles the best parts of the band. An upgrade, if you will.
And so much of that upgrade is because of Turner’s obvious influence. “First Red Rays” might be one of the best songs Sumac ever wrote in an alternate universe. Turner’s deep, bellowing vocal style complements Von Till’s and bassist Dave Edwardson’s perfectly. The same can be said about the formidable riffs in “Blind” and the unnerving dissonance of “Seething and Scattered.” The underlying messages in these songs leave very little to the imagination, too. “We’re all disconnected from ourselves and each other, from all that is sacred,” booms the chorus of “Seething and Scattered,” showing that even though the band’s sound has evolved from its hardcore-punk origins, it still firmly captures its spirit.
The final two songs here encompass just under 30 minutes of total length, and if we’re being honest, there’s no other way to end a Neurosis album. “In the Waiting Hours” builds up to a slow tsunami, taking its time at first until it explodes into a smoldering white-hot ball of concentrated rage. Even if “rage” is too primitive a descriptor here, you’ll know it when you hear it.
The nerve-shredding intro to “Last Light” kept me up late Friday night as I was emailing Islander to humbly ask if I could take this review, and it really hasn’t left my brain ever since. The audial uneasiness of this song must be experienced more than simply listened to, especially considering the ambitious genre-surfing ground it covers in just under 17 minutes. While it’s not quite the cathartic, near-perfect end to an album that “Stones from the Sky” was on A Sun That Never Sets, it embodies the destructive heaviness that makes Neurosis the unstoppable force they’ve always been.
By the time it’s over, An Undying Love for a Burning World is the aptly titled comeback album we never saw coming. I can only imagine how it’ll feel to watch them take the stage for the first time in seven years at this summer’s Fire in the Mountains festival, which I’m almost positive will result in “it’s like they never left” sentiment from everyone in attendance.
In the end, Burning World checks off every box any Neurosis fan would want from them in any timeline: Deftly wielded heaviness, post-metal brooding, a splash of nostalgic hardcore, and a none-too-subtle message of endurance and hope. Even if the world is burning, it’s a better place with Neurosis back in it.
https://neurosis.bandcamp.com/album/an-undying-love-for-a-burning-world
https://www.facebook.com/officialneurosis