Sunrise patriot motion—a dutiful salute and march against the hazed morning light. In this abstraction of a man dissolving to his own isolated madness as he seeks to unearth oil, the two brothers Skarstad (Will and Sam of Yellow Eyes and Ustalost) strike a different treasure with their recognizable blend of screeching melody and reverent, ethereal structures. In any other year, I would be here to inform you that they accomplish this through a recklessly textured black metal assault. However, in this year of 2022, we find the busybody fraternal pair ripe in the smolder of a post-punk and goth rock pyre. Lace up your Docs tight for a wade through Black Fellflower Stream.
Not surprisingly, crystalline dissonance and real-world ambience pervade the work that these experimental, New York-based artists conjure, and Sunrise Patriot Motion, though more spaciously packed with these elements, presents no differently. From the opening, twanged-out and tangled guitar line that ignites “Sunrise Labyrinthian” to the tortured refrain that dissolves against floating, fugal synth washes on “Drippings of God,” the Skarstad duo paint with familiar colors. If you caught last year’s late Ustalost release, you may notice a similarity about some of the melodies. Yet Black Fellflower Stream flows in its own reverb-soaked manner, with an organic and crackling production style that recalls a vast, overcast field rather than a cave tucked away in an uncharted mountain—the air here moves with a musty momentum.
Infected with a Killing Joke bounce and a goth-daubed clamor—not too far from Bambara, host of guest drummer Blaze Bateh—Sunrise Patriot Motion explores dread and wonder without a wasted moment. Wickedly woven glistening patches crash against baroque, nasally synth lines to create atmospheres steeped in hymnal hallucinations (“Oil Dream Field,” “Drippings of God”). Vocalist Andrew Chugg (Future Punx), through layers of echoed distortion, unleashes unhinged cries of “AAAAAH YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAH” (“Sunrise Labyrinthian”) and “YEEEEEEEOOOOOOW” (“I Search for Gasoline”) to the point of cracked voice and cracked mind. The basilical interludes “Antigleam” and “Sweet Severance Armor,” the latter also laced with oppressive field ambience, feign respite briefly before giving way again to slithering Skarstad string-work. You can take the boys out of metal, but you can’t take the metal out of the boys.
So is it metal?1 Who cares?2 Either way, refreshingly, a playfulness lurks beneath the surface. The hi-hat scatter of “Warp of the Window” and the “Billie Jean” kick fake-out of “My Father’s Christian Humidor” provide islands of levity amongst the quagmire of delusional digging. Though Sunrise Patriot Motion bears the marks of its influences and past lives, Black Fellflower Stream erodes its own unique path. The titular character may not have dug deep enough to quell his psychosis, but I can forgive that as this unexpected collection of blackened(-ish) post-something tunes has slowly and assuredly crawled its way among the top ranks of my listening pleasures this year.
Tracks to Check Out: “Warp of the Window,” “I Search for Gasoline,” “My Father’s Christian Humidor”