Album Review: Slomatics, Strontium Fields
On the cusp of marking their 20th anniversary as a band in 2024, the Belfast-based gravitational force known as Slomatics offer Strontium Fields as their seventh album. Issued as their third LP for Black Bow Records behind 2019’s Canyons (review here) and 2017’s Future Echo Returns (review here), produced as ever by Rocky O’Reilly at Start Together Studio — O’Reilly plays on it as well, I think — and as Strontium Fields boasts mastering by James Plotkin, the returning trio lineup of guitarists David Majury and Chris Couzens and drummer/vocalist/synthesist Marty Harvey (also War Iron), epic gatefold artwork (by Ryan Lesser in this case), and tectonically chugging riffs meeting with grandiose sci-fi keyboard, there’s plenty in the eight-song/36-minute full-length to make familiar listeners feel in-the-know. Opener “Wooden Satellites” sets a course through tumult and tone, the Northern Irish three-piece beginning at a semi-slog through downer-chug riffing laced as it moves into the first verse with theremin-esque sounds, soon enough establishing the chorus that coincides; some mention of a Red Queen along the way adds a sense of story, but I haven’t seen a lyric sheet so can’t necessarily speak to it.
But strontium — chemical symbol Sr, number 38 on the periodic table — is an alkaline earth metal abundant in the planet’s crust, is used to turn fireworks and flares red, sometimes to make stuff glow in the dark, and is radioactive in its man-made isotopes. One imagines a field of it would be a striking and apocalyptic image, which is suitable to Slomatics‘ general aesthetic. They are cybernetic dystopia’s favorite riffers. And as much as Strontium Fields celebrates that, it also finds Slomatics trying new ideas in sound even from what they were doing in 2022 on their split with Sweden’s Domkraft, Ascend/Descend (review here). This is most emphasized across the span in Harvey‘s vocals, which have never engaged in more complex melodicism or soared quite as they do here. There’s some layering, maybe a guest spot, in “Wooden Satellites,” but as Strontium Fields plays through side A in “I, Neanderthal,” “Time Capture” and “Like a Kind of Minotaur” — which, sure enough, is; the band have always had a knack for titling songs seemingly in answer to the riffs on which they’re based — and across side B headed toward the finale in “With Dark Future,” its component tracks also interact in new ways.
To wit, “I, Neanderthal” taps into Metallica‘s “Sad But True” in its intro with more open drums before building into its push-forward verse, more uptempo than the opener but still midtempo by most standards. Harvey, his voice compressed, has a shout like Lee Dorrian on some of the later Cathedral fare, but as the chorus spreads wide to offset some of the tension amassed in the verse and bridge, the belted-out melody returns. At 3:10, the guitars cut out and piano comes in where the riff had been to round out a four minutes that feels much bigger ahead of the synthy start of “Time Capture,” which is at the core of what Slomatics are bringing to Strontium Fields atmospherically. Feeling like a pandemic-era contemplation, it removes the weighted wall of distortion that typifies their approach, and instead puts a keyboard or effects drone at the forefront with Harvey‘s duly mournful vocal overtop, verse harmonies echoing “Wooden Satellites” in a sidestep context like futurist ambient pop. At none of its opportunities to ‘get heavy’ does it do so.
I know that sounds funny, but considering who Slomatics are and who they’ve become over their seven records together, it means something. There is guitar that comes in later (unless it’s more keys), at around 4:30 to add to the last verse, but while Slomatics have had atmospheric breaks, usually contrasted by the arrival of some particularly crushing progression, the focus on melody throughout Strontium Fields and the way they execute “Time Capture” come across as genuinely new, which is something to appreciate for a band approaching 20 years since their start and who are now past a decade in their current configuration. Where otherwise “Time Capture” might explode in a skullcleaver of a riff, Strontium Fields leaves it to “Like a Kind of Minotaur” to fill that role, which it does in immediate crush and a classic Slomatics nod and a general gone-to-ground vibe. It changes at the halfway point and opens a bit with some wah guitar, but that “ough” at 3:03 is fully earned as they ride the chug to the end of side A and, on linear/digital formats, make another smooth turn into the quiet beginning of “Voidians.”
And for at least the better part of its first two minutes, “Voidians” works a bit like “Time Capture” in its quieter, mood-minded reach. But when the opportunity presents itself at 1:55 into the total 6:32 (it’s the longest inclusion but not by a ton over “Time Capture” or “With Dark Futures”), “Voidians” does get heavy, cycling through a louder chorus before dropping out to loop through the verse again. Its second chorus gives over to kick-driven lumber, and Slomatics chug into synth-laced oblivion to end, but the affect of the intro to “Voidians” and the whole of “Time Capture” is resonant throughout, and the wistful balladry and shimmering strum of the 2:37 “Zodiac Arts Lab” go even further, with a vocal/guitar melody that reminds in part of INXS‘ “Never Tear Us Apart” perhaps as delivered by Tau and the Drones of Praise, a second guitar entering with lead lines around the central rhythm. It’s the shortest cut, and the boldest in many ways, including in its lack of drums, which if vinyl symmetry follows means that the subsequent, penultimate “ARCS” is going to destroy.
It does. Slowly. Barely there in its creeper guitar outset, it lurches forth on undulations of doomer distortion as a backdrop for a clear verse almost seeming to continue the style of “Zodiac Arts Lab,” but in a decidedly more tectonic form, and while “Time Capture,” “Voidians,” and “Zodiac Arts Lab” show Slomatics working in new methods, “ARCS” internalizes that, pairs it with their long-established tonal heft and offers something that is emotional and evocative as an end product. And even if these are elements/ideas that Slomatics have presented on record before, they’re doing so here in new ways and as “ARCS” drops out, surges again, peaks heavy and caps with the drums fading as they’re soon to again on “With Dark Futures,” Strontium Fields underscores the multifaceted take Slomatics have developed over the last decade-plus. The closer arrives crashing in big, unfolds itself over its intro. Verses peppered with whispers seem to speak directly to the audience (or the self): “You are awake/You are alive/Breathe/Just breathe,” they advise.
There are twists in the plot of the final chapter here as well, as “With Dark Futures” stops and feedbacks as if to say “here we go around again” before resuming its planetary stomp, incorporating the synth, which only makes it sound huger. Harvey returns for last verses, and they cap with a due crescendo before the aforementioned percussive fadeout, but even in having less outright tension in the early verses, “With Dark Futures” finds Slomatics exploring, details like whispers at the end of some of the verse lines, or the way they carry into the finish assuring the point is conveyed, which it is beyond a doubt. With their modus steady beneath them, Slomatics feel somewhat freer to explore upward, looking at the sky aurally and maybe finding a bit of escapism in that. What Strontium Fields will mean for them as they move forward, I can’t say, but in both its expected and unexpected aspects, it offers a heaping dose of the vitality so much a part of their process and a deeper look at their dynamic than they’ve ever before given. That these songs are very, very heavy shouldn’t be taken for granted, and that they’re more than just that is a thing to be appreciated.
Slomatics, Strontium Fields (2023)
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Tags: Belfast, Black Bow Records, Northern Ireland, Slomatics, Slomatics Strontium Fields, Strontium Fields
