On their debut EP, Progenitor, Scottish four-piece Dune successfully meld the varying impulses of metal and desert rock, creating a sound both vast and ambient that shifts smoothly into movements of big-toned crunching aggression. The resulting tracks are not quite stoner metal, which would seem to imply a Sleep influence — there isn’t one here — but a kind of desert metal which finds its variety furthered through the liberal implementation of interludes, particularly on side A of the transparent red, limited-to-300-copies Wasted State Records 12″ vinyl. Out digitally in December 2013 before this June 2014 pressing, it is a short release, topping out at just over 29 minutes, but in that time Dune showcase not only stylistic nuance, but a commitment to standing out in the vinyl form as well, both through the packaging, thick stock and including a liner the aesthetic of which matches the band’s sci-fi thematic, and through the curious division of the interlude “Pillars of Eternity” between the end of side A and the start of side B.

“Pillars of Eternity” is one of three included instrumentals on Progenitor, the other two being the intro, “Gravity Signal,” a building cosmic pulse and noise wash that leads directly into the Kyuss-meets-swirl opening riff of “Protostar,” and the closing linear build of “Orbital Remains,” which caps side B on an engagingly spaced-out note. Maybe because so much of the platter is dedicated to atmospherics it seems surprising when Dune give so much attention to vocal arrangements throughout. The band is made up of guitarists Victor Vicart and Dan Barter, bassist Simon Anger and drummer Dudley Tait, and everyone adds vocals in one form or another, though Anger is credited with backing vocals and Tait with “voice,” so there’s likely some distinction there. In any case, for “Protostar” and “Oscillations of Color,” Dune‘s riffy largesse is met with early-Mastodon growls, giving the EP a feel that would stand in line with sludge if the songs weren’t also so crisply produced or varied in themselves, “Protostar” breaking before its midpoint to a guitar-led ambient section and building back up to full-boar and an impressive solo from there as it rolls on past six and a half minutes. It feeds directly into “Oscillations of Color,” which uses guitar triplet gallop as a central riff around which a memorable chorus and proggy-feeling midsection (topped with distorted outer space spoken word, likely by Tait) circle.

The second vocalized track might be the most accomplished on Progenitor, but side B’s “When Planets Die” and “Red Giant” stand up to it — as did “Protostar,” for that matter — the subdued echoes of “Pillars of Eternity” leading the way out of side A and then, for just a few seconds, building into the drums and sparse guitar at the start of “When Planets Die.” A faster rush and churningly insistent, “When Planets Die” still holds to Dune‘s depth of arrangement and sense of overall control, also proving more straightforward without a break in the middle like the pair comprising the meat of side A, though a few last minute turns are head-spinning before the song ends cold and “Red Giant” picks up with a swell of feedback. I don’t want to spoil, because the arrival makes for Progenitor‘s most glorious payoff, but when the music slows and all the vocals come together on “Red Giant,” it’s reminiscent of the swaying that makes Hull‘s material so triumphant, and Dune might be the only other band I’ve heard do it so well. A driving chaos ensues, and they cap stomping before feedback rings out and fades, letting effects noise give way to “Orbital Remains,” the quiet guitars of which move into a satisfyingly desert-hued progression that gets an apex not overblown — there’d be no point in competing with “Red Giant” anyway — but still enough to make the finale more than an afterthought amidst all the pummel before it.

Dune have such a firm grip on their presentation, it’s easy to forget Progenitor is their debut EP, but there’s still room for them to grow as well. The peaceful vibing of “Orbital Remains” and the subtlety of its linear progression in particular speak to the potential for Dune to do more in their songwriting than offset clobbering riffs with guitar-effects interludes, and indeed, taken as a whole, Progenitor shows that evolution is already underway. It’s a righteously heavy two sides that the Edinburgh foursome have conjured to announce their arrival, and should be welcome for anyone who longs for a few meaner stretches than most heavy rock is willing to provide. Topped off by the Ross McKendrick cover art, whether you’ve read Frank Herbert or not, Dune‘s first vinyl has plenty to offer those who’d set needle to wax.

Dune, Progenitor (2014)

Dune on Thee Facebooks

Dune on Twitter

Dune on Bandcamp

Wasted State Records

Tags: Dune, Dune Progenitor, Edinburgh, Progenitor, Scotland, Wasted State Records

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 15th, 2014 at 3:36 pm and is filed under On Wax. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.