Friday Full-Length: Floor, Oblation
In 2009, Robotic Empire released the comprehensive and consuming 11LP/8CD discography box set Below & Beyond (discussed here) from Miami bomb-tone heavy rockers Floor. The band, part of the wide-reaching family tree of sludgers Cavity, had their own sludge elements, but with the vocals and tonal heft of guitarist Steve Brooks, fostered a penchant for upbeat and almost poppy songcraft. Amid a vast swath of EPs and other short releases, their 2002 self-titled debut full-length (discussed here) gained an after-the-fact cult following despite the band’s breakup the same year, thanks at least in part to Brooks‘ subsequent work in the similarly-minded-if-less-punk Torche. Even with the box set, a Floor reunion didn’t seem likely. At that point, Torche were riding the success of 2008’s Meanderthal and their Chapter Ahead Being Fake split with Boris, and that seemed very much where the priority was. Fair enough. One more band that those who saw the first time around were lucky to have seen.
You see where this is going. By 2010, Floor — with the lineup of Brooks on guitar/vocals, Anthony Vialon on guitar and Henry Wilson on drums — were touring (review here) and drawing out the next-generation crowd who’d either heard of them through word of mouth on the burgeoning phenomenon of mobilized social media, or had otherwise traced the line back from Torche and discovered that Floor were not only the root from which that band’s early ideas grew, but a special act with landmark material of their own. One way or the other, people came out, and Floor continued activity mostly around Florida and Georgia, but elsewhere too. In 2013, the announcement came through they’d signed to Season of Mist and had a new album coming, and a little over a year and more touring (review here) later, they released Oblation (review here), collecting 14 tracks and 44 minutes of new material that even six years later continues to resonate.
Though it seemed at the time to exist in the shadow of the self-titled, Oblation was and remains its own album with its own strengths of songwriting and delivery. The opening riff of the title-track brings the massive weight that Floor always made bounce in what seemed like such a miracle, and unfolded with immediate spaciousness and melody. Slower than much of what would follow, its lurch doubled as a setup for the sprint of the hooky “Rocinante”
and the bombastic “Trick Scene” — a showcase for how underrated Floor always were as songwriters and doubly so how underrated Wilson was/is as a drummer. He not only follows the changes of riff, meter and rhythm, but enhances them, and comes across as duly massive in so doing, complementing the tones of Vialon and Brooks while also being the punch behind the stops in “Trick Scene” and the wash that flows through “Find Away,” which follows. The hook party continues as the 47-second instrumental “The Key” makes an intro for “New Man,” another in the ongoing series of righteously propulsive grooves, catchy despite no obvious hit-you-over-the-head-chorus and a lead-in for “Sister Sophia” and the feedback-soaked “The Quill,” which finish the first of the two LPs with Floor‘s signature sensibility of all-momentum-until-the-crash well intact.
Outside of the still-to-come “Sign of Aeth” (7:54), side C opener “Love Comes Crushing” is the only other track on Oblation over four minutes long. It still manages to sprint and gallop to its conclusion, and by the time “War Party” starts, Floor have picked up where they’ve left off. “War Party” was the first single released from the record ahead of its release, and fair enough. Under three minutes. Melodic. Unspeakably heavy. Motion. Quick and memorable with an emotional undercurrent to its melody — it would be and was a sign to listeners both of Floor‘s progression since their disbanding nine years earlier and of how much of their original approach was held over to their reunion. With “Homegoings and Transitions,” which would be enough of a standout to feature on a 12″ EP in 2014 with “Shadowline” and an etched B-side, pushed melody to the forefront with a rare, more patient take, and so brought about “Sign of Aeth” on side D as the beginning of Oblation‘s final movement. Riddled with Rush references, the sense of willful departure in “Sign of Aeth” is of course palpable, but as much as Floor are known for shorter songs, they’ve never had any trouble transposing that to longer material when it suits their needs. And though the fadeout of “Sign of Aeth” feels awfully final as it goes, “Raised to a Star” revives the forward thrust and “Forever Still” adds more melody to that as the record runs inexorably to its end.
Floor toured to support Oblation, and hit Europe for what I’m pretty sure was the first time ever in 2015, including a stop at Roadburn (review here) in the Netherlands. They continued to do regional Florida gigs periodically until about 2016, and by then, Brooks‘ focus seemed to have shifted back to Torche and Wilson had already released one full-length with his House of Lightning project and would soon offer a second. No one could say they didn’t put their work in or give the record its due, but Floor just kind of petered out after that, which considering the energy and the momentum built up in Oblation‘s tracks, kind of left them in the same place as the self-titled — seeming like a band with more to say leaving it unsaid.
To me, Floor is movement. I have a few albums I refuse to travel without, and Floor‘s self-titled and Oblation are both on that list, permanently. That sense of momentum. I hear Oblation and think of getting off an airplane, walking up to a gate. Maybe going somewhere else, maybe going home, but going. Floor is get-off-your-ass-and-do-something music, and more than just that too. Because it’s not just that the songs are fast, or that they lock in this mini-epic feel, or that they’re catchy. They’re almost totally individualized. Even when one puts Floor next to Torche, they don’t sound the same. Floor‘s identity as a band was/maybe-is something unique, and something that well deserved the fulfillment that Oblation gave it. As to whether it’s the final word on Floor as a whole, of course I have no idea, but its character and that distinctive shove still feel like they want to keep moving forward.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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This weekend, The Pecan turns three, and the “still two” mantra that The Patient Mrs. and I have employed to explain various behaviors over these hard months of isolation will no longer apply. It’ll be “still three.” I love him desperately — more than I thought I would, if I can say that — and I look forward to being a grandfather.
I had one of those things this past week where you get a year older as well. I’m 39 now. As The Patient Mrs. precedes me by eight months or so, she has already been experiencing some anxiety about turning 40. Fortunately — or not at all so — there has been plenty happening throughout this year to pull her attention in other directions. I do not see myself having particular trouble turning 40. I was never particularly good at being young, except maybe for the drinking. Mostly I was just an asshole. Now I’m quieter about it and I care less about what music other people listen to or what movies they watch. I was a real prick about that stuff for a long time. Different brand of asshole these days.
Her semester continues to be hard, and harder than it needs to be thanks to her university’s handling of the situation. I have friends who teach in high school and middle school I saw this week as well and their misery was recognizable (if differentiated) from hers. My mother was a teacher, and I probably should’ve been too, if we’re honest, but I am a firm believer that no teacher at any level of education should make less than $100,000 a year. Ever. Anywhere. Plus holiday bonuses. There is no more important work, and to see those in position as educators get so screwed over time and again, in the case of my friends as benefits and positions are slowly chipped away toward the cause of privatization, only emphasizes the point that the ruling elite class of this country wants the middle and working classes beneath them to be dumber and easily controlled. Those without awareness of critical thinking are less inclined to look around and see how they’re being fucked over by capitalism.
Alas, tangent.
The dog also peed on The Patient Mrs. last night while we were sitting on the couch watching the new episode of Star Trek: Discovery. I remain in camp “find this dog a better home,” and I continue to seem to be the only one there. Three months now, zero joy, zero fun. At her most tolerable moments, she is at least work. I find the best times are when I can pretend for a while she doesn’t exist. It does not feel good to actively dislike an animal.
So, family time this weekend for The Pecan’s birthday and also my niece’s, which is after Halloween — I would not be surprised to see us journeying north to see them in Connecticut next weekend even though they’re here as of whatever point today — and a full week next week both domestically and in writing terms. Premieres slated every day, which has its ups and downs like anything.
I’m going to try to do another video interview — looking at you, Peder Bergstrand from Lowrider — but with a packed weekend, a Gimme Metal show next week, and The Pecan starting pre-K on Monday, I honestly may or may not get there. We’ll see.
Or won’t see, if I don’t get it done. I kind of hated seeing my face in that Crystal Spiders interview this week. I wonder if I could take myself out of the picture.
Anyway, it’s 6:30AM and The Pecan’s starting to stir and I need a post-run shower, so I’m gonna split out. Have a great and safe weekend. Enjoy the Fall if that’s your thing — it’s my favorite season or at least it used to be before climate change — and don’t forget to hydrate. So important.
FRM.
Tags: Floor, Floor Oblation, Florida, Miami, Oblation, Season of Mist
