Ocean – Here Where Nothing Grows
Important Records – IMPREC073 – November 2005
By Jason Jordan
Methinks Ocean is an ironic name for such a slow, slow doom band. Even at its calmest, the ocean still has plenty of currents, waves, and goings-on underneath its surface. Plus, when it collides with a rocky coast, the result can only be described as violent. Here Where Nothing Grows is too sluggish to be categorized as drifting, but the three compositions are massive, spreading for miles on end. Considering that it’s quality doom, though, the ever-burgeoning expansiveness is a good thing.
As said, there are only three tunes here, but that doesn’t prevent Ocean from reaching the sixty-five minute mark. The opening song – “First Reign” – is twenty minutes of mud-encrusted doom blessed with plenty of subtleties. The distortion-filled sections recall Sunn O))), and the lonely guitar interjections serve as buoys while the listener is carried farther out to sea. Though there are temporary moments of respite, courtesy of raspy vocals and a tempo change, the quartet stay the course admirably. It’s fitting to hear only bass, drums, and the sounds of rainfall near the end of “First Reign.” “Salt” is less of a wallflower than its predecessor, because the reverb and somber melodies – reminiscent of Pelican and Red Sparowes – function as distinguishing characteristics. Concerning the latter, after five and a half minutes of “Salt,” Ocean seem more eager to hop onto the doom-core bandwagon. However, they exercise restraint until the 12:30 minute mark surfaces, and then they’re up to their old tricks again by 13:30. “Salt,” like the tide, will jerk you around intermittently as does the behemoth named “The Fall.” After it settles, the desolation is almost palpable, and the organ works wonders for the ambiance. Nevertheless, since much of the album reminds me of a vast tropical setting, the organ seems slightly out of place; especially when these Americans are being likened to Buried at Sea every other day, who also use a water-related moniker.
Observers of traditional doom, who like or don’t mind a few ripples of Neurosis-core, should definitely go for a swim. Their name will leave you with visions of the sea in your head, so be prepared for that kind of imagery. Overall, a very good showing worth the price, and I’d spring for the “deluxe reflective silver foil printed gatefold cardboard jacket” version if possible. There are 2000 of those suckers floating around.
8/10
Official Ocean Website
Official Important Records Website
Important Records – IMPREC073 – November 2005
By Jason Jordan
Methinks Ocean is an ironic name for such a slow, slow doom band. Even at its calmest, the ocean still has plenty of currents, waves, and goings-on underneath its surface. Plus, when it collides with a rocky coast, the result can only be described as violent. Here Where Nothing Grows is too sluggish to be categorized as drifting, but the three compositions are massive, spreading for miles on end. Considering that it’s quality doom, though, the ever-burgeoning expansiveness is a good thing.
As said, there are only three tunes here, but that doesn’t prevent Ocean from reaching the sixty-five minute mark. The opening song – “First Reign” – is twenty minutes of mud-encrusted doom blessed with plenty of subtleties. The distortion-filled sections recall Sunn O))), and the lonely guitar interjections serve as buoys while the listener is carried farther out to sea. Though there are temporary moments of respite, courtesy of raspy vocals and a tempo change, the quartet stay the course admirably. It’s fitting to hear only bass, drums, and the sounds of rainfall near the end of “First Reign.” “Salt” is less of a wallflower than its predecessor, because the reverb and somber melodies – reminiscent of Pelican and Red Sparowes – function as distinguishing characteristics. Concerning the latter, after five and a half minutes of “Salt,” Ocean seem more eager to hop onto the doom-core bandwagon. However, they exercise restraint until the 12:30 minute mark surfaces, and then they’re up to their old tricks again by 13:30. “Salt,” like the tide, will jerk you around intermittently as does the behemoth named “The Fall.” After it settles, the desolation is almost palpable, and the organ works wonders for the ambiance. Nevertheless, since much of the album reminds me of a vast tropical setting, the organ seems slightly out of place; especially when these Americans are being likened to Buried at Sea every other day, who also use a water-related moniker.
Observers of traditional doom, who like or don’t mind a few ripples of Neurosis-core, should definitely go for a swim. Their name will leave you with visions of the sea in your head, so be prepared for that kind of imagery. Overall, a very good showing worth the price, and I’d spring for the “deluxe reflective silver foil printed gatefold cardboard jacket” version if possible. There are 2000 of those suckers floating around.
8/10
Official Ocean Website
Official Important Records Website
