Those who cannot understand how the deafening, howling and feedback-driven guitar roar of the American noise duo Sunn 0))) can offer moving beauty and therapeutic comfort, must Never sleep again (1966) Read, the famous novel by Willem Frederik Hermans.
Exactly when protagonist Alfred Issendorf realizes that his geological expedition in Lapland has ended in a complete fiasco – he makes zero relevant discoveries and his colleague dies by falling off a mountain – a thick fog lifts. Surrounded by impenetrable mist, Issendorf feels more lonely, useless and distraught than ever.
It’s a literary trick that has been used in countless books and movies: if you don’t see anything, look inside. It is the perfect time for Hermans to pump the most important theme from his poetics into the heads of his readers: everyone is messing around, no one understands each other, everything is in vain.
Fast forward to next Monday night. When Sunn 0))) enters Paradiso there will be nothing to see in that concert hall in Amsterdam either. Smoke machines will continuously belch out thick white clouds. Only when they lift – briefly (and partially) – can the shadows of noise pioneers Stephen O’Malley and Greg Anderson be seen. In dark monk’s habits with pointed hats, they wander across the barely lit stage, which is packed with gigantic amplifiers.
The fog is not only visual, but sonic as well. With their growling guitars, O’Malley and Anderson pull up a mountain of primordial roar. That ultra-low roar continues to roar continuously for two hours, as was apparent at a concert in 2019. There is no rhythm or melody: there is no beat that can stir you up, melody that makes you dream away or a singer that can channel emotions. There’s just that overpowering hum. That continuous subterranean thunder, creaking and whistling (because the endlessly held chords inevitably feedback) turns out to sound even lower every time.
Volume as a band member
This exploration in space and time leads to the deepest caverns under the earth’s crust and happens – watch out! – at an inhuman volume of – really – 120 decibels. Hence the ‘0)))’ after the band name: that is the visual translation of the devastating sound waves that blow from the amplifiers (of the Sunn brand). The band considers the gigantic volume as the third member.
“MAXIMUM VOLUME YIELDS MAXIMUM RESULTS”, begins the list of technical instructions that the band sends to concert halls in advance. Besides being a warning for the “heavy physical presence”, the document also reads as a canonization (“We worship resonance and feedback.”) and a manifesto. When conveying that “pure physical power of sound, an absolute encounter with sonics”, it is vital that all hall employees are “prepared and comfortable” with “high volume/low frequency MAXIMISING of the PA”. Amen.
‘Dronedoom’ is the name of the metal subgenre according to those in the know. And admittedly: it all sounds like a.) artsy and pretentious stuff; and b.) torture. And yet it is neither.
After all, there is no concert that is as immersive as the Sunn 0))). You can literally lean against that many decibels. You don’t get a punch in the stomach, but you constantly vibrate deep into your intestines.
Physiotherapy
But the band doesn’t just tickle your kidneys. The audience not only (like Alfred Issendorf) stares blindly at the fog, but is also (ear) deafened. Fleeing is not possible, everyone is completely at the mercy of themselves. The granite sound is so massive, impenetrable and omnipresent that it forces you to an existential confrontation with your own insignificance.
It is a self-help consultation and physiotherapy in one. At first hearing it may sound like a grinding soundtrack of shifting layers of earth, during the physical and mental catharsis, those tectonic plates can just turn into cozy hugging walls. 0)))undergo it and let yourself be pounded.
#Sunn #Tickle #Kidneys #Deafening #Drones #Comfort