The Lords Of Bone And Machinery – A Gritty Sonic Journey That Sticks With You
Alright, let’s talk about The Lords Of Bone And Machinery by John Bergin. Released in 2017 under the label Stompbox13, this album is a gnarly mix of ambient and industrial vibes that’ll either leave you feeling like you’re floating through space or stuck in some dystopian factory—sometimes both at once. It’s not perfect, but it’s got teeth, and I mean that in the best way possible.
First off, hats off to John Bergin for wearing so many hats (pun intended). He didn’t just compose the thing; he performed, recorded, mixed, produced, and even designed the artwork. That’s dedication—or maybe just control freak tendencies—but hey, it works. The mastering credit goes to Robert Rich, who knows his stuff when it comes to crafting immersive soundscapes, and Brett Smith adds some horns here and there, which gives certain tracks an eerie edge. Oh yeah, and Blake Maloof pops up on backing vocals for one track (“Penetration”), adding a haunting layer to an already unsettling vibe.
Now onto the music. There are thirteen tracks total, including repeats of “Harvest Of Souls” and “Engines Of Destruction,” because why not? Two tracks really stood out to me: “Invasion” and “Leviathan Rising.”
“Invasion” feels like being hunted by machines with bad intentions. The beat builds slowly, almost teasing you before dropping into this relentless groove that drills into your brain. It’s dark, mechanical, and kinda beautiful if you squint hard enough. This track sticks with me because it’s got this tension that never fully resolves—it keeps you guessing, like walking alone at night in a sketchy part of town. You know something bad might happen, but dang if it isn’t exciting.
Then there’s “Leviathan Rising.” Man, this one hits different. Imagine standing on the edge of a cliff while a storm rolls in. The low drones feel like thunder rumbling in your chest, and the metallic clangs sound like gears grinding together as some ancient beast wakes up from its slumber. By the end, you’re left wondering whether you should run or bow down. Honestly, I think about this track every time I hear construction noise outside my window now. Weird connection, right?
Other songs like “Wage War” and “Broken Soul” keep the energy going, though they don’t hit quite as hard as those two standouts. Still, the whole album has this cohesive feel, like each track belongs exactly where it is. It’s moody, textured, and unapologetically raw.
Here’s the kicker: listening to The Lords Of Bone And Machinery made me realize how much we take clean production for granted. This record ain’t polished—it’s rough around the edges, and that’s what makes it interesting. Like finding beauty in decay, y’know? Or maybe I’ve been watching too many post-apocalyptic movies lately. Either way, it’s worth checking out if you’re into electronic music with a heavy dose of grit.
Final thought: If this album were a person, it’d probably wear leather jackets covered in rust stains and have a soft spot for abandoned warehouses. Not sure if that’s a compliment or a warning, but damn, it’s memorable.
