The Four Horsemen by Occams Laser: A Synthwave Apocalypse That Sticks With You
Let’s get one thing straight—when I first hit play on The Four Horsemen by Occams Laser, I wasn’t ready for the ride. This 2017 UK release isn’t just another synthwave album; it’s like stepping into a neon-lit fever dream where every beat feels like it’s pulsing through your veins. Tom Stuart, who handles both the music and artwork (props to him), crafted something raw and unfiltered here. It’s self-released under "Not On Label," which makes sense because this doesn’t feel polished—it feels alive.
Now, let me break it down track-by-track… well, kinda. There are four tracks named after the infamous horsemen: Famine, Conquest, War, and Death. And yeah, they sound as heavy as you’d expect—but also way more emotional than I thought going in. Two tracks stuck with me hard, so lemme tell ya about those.
First up is Famine. Oh man, this one hits different. The opening synths creep in slow, almost hesitant, like you’re walking into an abandoned city at night. Then BAM—the bassline drops, and suddenly you’re not just listening anymore—you’re feeling. Like, really feeling it. Hunger isn’t just physical here; it’s existential. Every note seems to claw at something deep inside you, like longing or regret. By the time the track ends, you’re left breathless, wondering what exactly happened but knowing damn well it mattered.
Then there’s War, which is pure chaos wrapped in beauty. If Famine was introspective, War is explosive. The drums crash like thunder, and the synths spiral out of control, pulling you along for the ride. What gets me most is how chaotic yet controlled it feels. It’s messy in all the right ways, like life itself when everything goes sideways. When the crescendo hits near the end, my heart races every single time. It’s less of a song and more of an experience—one that leaves you sweaty-palmed and buzzing long after it fades out.
Honestly, this whole album feels like staring into a mirror while wearing shades that distort reality. It’s electronic music, sure, but it’s got soul. Soul dripping with reverb and drenched in neon hues. Tom Stuart didn’t just make beats—he made moments. Moments that stick with you, even if you can’t quite explain why.
And maybe that’s the magic of The Four Horsemen. It’s not perfect. Sometimes the transitions feel abrupt, and some sections could’ve been stretched longer. But honestly? Those little imperfections make it human. In a world full of overproduced, cookie-cutter synthwave, this record stands out like graffiti on a clean wall.
So, would I recommend it? Hell yes—but only if you’re ready to confront whatever demons—or angels—it stirs up in you. Listening to this album feels like watching the apocalypse unfold from the safety of your headphones. Weirdly comforting, huh?
Final thought: If these four horsemen ever showed up in real life, I hope they brought snacks. Because surviving the end of the world sounds exhausting without chips.
