Comprised of two songs that build on Om’s (Al Cisneros and Chris Hakius, rhythm section of legendary sludge and stoner rock pioneers, Sleep) use of cyclical rhythm, riff, and vocal intonation, the duo’s new album Conference of the Birds blends metal, chant, drone, dub, and psychedelia . The band’s lyrics expound upon the structure of the universe, potentiality, and freedom from the physical body. Engineered by Billy Anderson and produced by the band, Conference of the Birds progresses beyond their debut, Variations on a Theme, with more fully realized songwriting and production by Billy Anderson (Melvins, Neurosis)
OM reunites one of the most powerful rhythm sections in rock music: Al Cisneros [bass, vocals] and Chris Hakius [drums], both ex-members of the legendary Sleep. Variations on a Theme is comprised of three long songs employing a series of rhythmic chants whose cadence-like textural drive conveys flight. The album's numerous lyrics serve as symbolist vehicles to a state outside the field of time and space. Variations on a Theme is a series of vibrations and flow. The opening track,"On The Mountain at Daw" is the thematic blueprint of the entire album; a transportive series of differentiated verse with sets of solid groove. "Kapil's Them" furthers the motif while the closer "Annapurna" breaks the spell, where the final wash of sound reflects the infinite.
By the time 2007 rolled around—the year in which this live recording at San Francisco's Amoeba Records took place—bassist/vocalist Al Cisneros and drummer Chris Hakius had two albums in their Discogs ledger: Variations On A Theme and Conference Of The Birds. At this transitional juncture, the duo had become masters of their own fearless domain: arcanely theosophical and verbose doom metal that located the golden mean between Earth 2's gravitas and ECM Records' austerity—with the bonus of King Tubby's acumen for low-end pressure and space. With Cisneros reciting his polysyllabic lyrics as if in a trance, coming off like Ozzy after a decade of monastic study in a house of the holy, it lends the songs a scholarly yet stoned and sanctified air. These two LPs contain some of the greatest slow and bulbous music to headbang against a dictionary to. There's nothing like them.
At this Amoeba in-store, “Flight Of The Eagle” epitomizes OM's bulldozer bass and Hakius' cymbal-happy, indomitable timekeeping. The piece makes you wonder—how can such a dense, gravid sound feel so liberating? That is the eternal mystery of OM. Future academics will be studying Al's mastodon-grunt bass tones like today's historians examine the pyramids. (There's a reason Rickenbacker made a signature bass for Cisneros.) The Amoeba version of “At Giza” finds OM at their most nimble, austere, and Pink Floydian, as they set the controls for the heart of the dark side of the moon. With its maniacal precision and predatory tension-building, “At Giza” could score the exploding-house scene in a remake of Antonioni's Zabriskie Point.
It's vanishingly rare for metal to make a listener feel cleansed and enlightened, but damn if OM haven't entered the rock pantheon doing just that, with an orotund sludge trudge that registers on the Richter scale. Quake up, people!
Limited numbered edition of 500 copies on red vinyl
one copy per customer