Dead Temples by Blackrune: A Sonic Odyssey That’s Not for the Faint of Eardrums
If you’re into rock music that feels like it crawled out of a cosmic fever dream, Dead Temples by Blackrune might just be your jam. Released in 2016 on Furious Hooves and Furhoof: Sixth Man (cool names, right?), this album is a heady mix of noise, experimental drone, ethereal vibes, and space rock. It’s not exactly background music unless your background involves staring at the stars while questioning reality. Let’s dive in.
First off, let me say this: Blackrune doesn’t mess around. The band—led by PM Goerner on vocals and guitar, with Chris Goggans holding down bass duties and Matt McCullough smashing drums and synths—crafted something here that feels both chaotic and meticulously thought-out. And hey, props to Peter Mavrogeorgis, who wore so many hats during production he probably needed an extra coat rack. Recorded, engineered, mixed, mastered? Dude did it all. Shoutout also to Danielle Sperandeo for the artwork and Ryan McCardle for design/layout because, honestly, the visuals are as trippy as the tunes.
Now onto the tracks. With song titles like “Creation Myth Of A Goddess Of Storms” and “A Scientific Enquiry Into The Psychological Benefits Of Magical Thinking,” you know you’re not dealing with your average three-chord garage band. These songs sound like they were born in some ancient temple where time loops back on itself.
Let me tell ya about two tracks that stuck with me:
1. “Laocoön”
This one hits hard. Like, "I’m pretty sure my brain just short-circuited" hard. The opening riff sounds like someone took a chainsaw to a guitar string, but then it morphs into this hypnotic drone that pulls you under. By the time the drums kick in, you’re already drowning—but in a good way. It’s heavy without being overbearing, weird without being pretentious, and it lingers long after the final note fades. I think I played it three times in a row before realizing I hadn’t moved from my chair.
2. “The Spiral Stairs”
Oh man, this track is wild. It starts off slow and moody, like walking through fog in a haunted forest. Then BAM! Synths come screaming in like alien spacecraft invading Earth. There’s this moment near the middle where everything drops out except for this eerie vocal line—it gave me goosebumps. Or maybe that was the coffee wearing off. Either way, it’s memorable. You can practically see the spiral staircase twisting upward into infinity as you listen.
One thing worth noting is how cohesive the whole thing feels despite its sprawling nature. Tracks bleed into each other seamlessly, creating an immersive experience that demands attention. Sure, some parts feel indulgent, but isn’t that what experimental rock is supposed to do? Push boundaries, break rules, and make listeners go, “Wait…what?”
In conclusion, Dead Temples isn’t for everyone. If you prefer your music straightforward and predictable, steer clear. But if you enjoy getting lost in layers of sound that challenge your perception of what music even is, give this album a spin. Just don’t blame me if you start hearing whispers from another dimension afterward.
Final thought: Listening to Dead Temples made me realize two things. One, I need more coffee. Two, there’s beauty in chaos—even when it sounds like your speakers are having an existential crisis.
