Their appropriately-titled demo, The Demonstration 2009, may only be upwards of 11 minutes long, but New Jersey newcomer post-metal troupe Pharaoh (not to be confused with the Philly power metal band of the same name on Cruz Del Sur) raise some interesting questions about how fans and bands interact in 2009, and what effect accessibility has on the listening experience. The only way to get the two song release is to email the band at: pharaohcontact_@_gmail._com [underscores added to thwart spammers].

The other day when I pulled the self-made curtain in my bedroom aside to let some light in, I found a small robin had found its way in past the outside storm window, gotten trapped in between the screen and the window itself, and died. It lay on its back, legs up, very much dead. I’m still unclear as to how it got in there, and though its removal gave me a much-needed opportunity to open the window and vacuum some spider eggs that would have tortured me all throughout the summer months, I was hardly glad for the task. In the end, I took a bunch of paper towels, put an already mostly full garbage bag by my side and grabbed it while trying not to look at what I was doing. Like picking up a load of dog shit. The dog shit that only a couple weeks ago I’d have taken for an announcement of Spring.

As I listen to the churning machination of the opening riff to Pharaoh‘s “I Murderer, I,” that image of unintended cruelty and destruction sticks in my head in an almost disturbing way. Here I was, captor of this stupid creature, without even knowing it. I kept it just inches from my sleeping head until it starved to death and then disposed of it the same way I disposed of that leftover steak in the fridge. It’s a vicious process. That kind of hopelessness, that kind of brutality, is what I hear in the screams on The Demonstration 2009.

In line with the barren soundscapes produced by bands like Rosetta, Mouth of the Architect, Humanfly and Minsk, Pharaoh keep their mystique by refusing to participate in the process. By that I mean there is no MySpace page or other website, no label, no lineup info or other biographical information. Just songs, and the only way to get them is by contacting the band directly. Think of the tradeoff: totally inaccessible by the means that have come in this decade to be thought of as conventional, and yet they demand anyone interested in hearing their music to reach out for a personal interaction. I don’t know if it’s lazy or brilliant.

So the question, then, is what does it mean to communicate on the level of creator/witness? How does one maintain the purity of their art and still expose it to an audience, if it can be done at all?

Needless to say, if I knew that, I’d be writing books instead of reviewing albums, but what I can say is that “I Murderer, I” and “Two Thousand Seasons” provide ample audio companionship for anyone looking to ask themselves these questions. The songs sound professionally produced without being overdone and the crushing, tortured atmosphere in as well executed as anything I’ve heard in the genre to date, progenitors Neurosis and early Isis notwithstanding. Oceanic, by the latter, is probably as appropriate a comparison touchstone as one will find, but with the indefinable hunger only existing in demo bands. Pharaoh haven’t entirely recreated their genre in their image, but for anyone willing to reach out, they offer an experience well worth the effort.

Tags: Bands who sound like Neurosis, New Jersey, Pharaoh, post-metal

This entry was posted on Monday, May 18th, 2009 at 9:27 am and is filed under Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.