Corrupted – Garten Der Unbewusstheit (Nostalgia Blackrain)
Any argument regarding the heaviest bands to have existed will invariably come off as a rather unnecessary expulsion of carbon dioxide into our precious air supply, so I hesitate to even mention such a thing when referencing a band like Corrupted. If I were to make such an assessment, however, Corrupted would certainly merit more than a passing mention, having spent the better part of two decades producing a body of work that is among the most consistently challenging and rewarding in the genre. Generally focusing on glacially-paced doom metal, their music is characterized by traits that are largely anomalous for their style: they've recorded two-minute songs and seventy two-minute songs; they've incorporated minimal acoustic and dark ambient elements that are as heavy as their more traditionally metal material; they're a Japanese band that sings almost exclusively in Spanish. The band's newest effort – and unfortunately their last, according to multiple sources – is a marked departure, even for a band known for their divergences. It's definitely heavy, but there is a melodic sense at work that was rarely glimpsed in the band's previous efforts, and the song titles in German, English, and Japanese are a departure from their previously preferred language.
For the uninitiated, it's difficult to say with any certainty whether Garten Der Unbewusstheit is a good starting point. It's easily their most accessible work to date, but the melodic component, elegiac though it may be, prevents it from being fully representative of the band's larger canon. This isn't to suggest that the album is at all an easy listen – though divided into three tracks, the material flows into a seamless sixty-three minute piece, a dirge that overlays the black-hole density of their doom metal material with atmospheric guitar accents not far removed from Robert Fripp's work with Brian Eno. It's not segmented into easily digestible chunks, and the album tends to only really work as a totality, one with a length that could easily intimidate those afflicted with shorter attention spans and alienate those who expect metal to possess more invigorating characteristics.
Those already acquainted with Corrupted will find little with which to take umbrage. Some might lament the gentler ambient textural elements that crept to the music's forefront, as if these components negate the music's heaviness. But anybody who supports the band's implicit artistic goal (implicit since they have never granted an interview or given much of any indication of their influences and aims) of constant evolution should at least understand. Their music is a garden of forking paths and crescent loops where the band pushes towards unexpected ends, sometimes allowing the aesthetic signifiers to diverge wildly, sometimes allowing them to circle back to the root heaviness at the core of their existence. And that heaviness is never far away, not even on this album. There is a better grasp of dynamics at work though. The album builds and recedes, gradually retaining and expelling tension until reaching the final moments of closer “Gekkou No Daichi” – more climactic and, dare I say, triumphant a passage than Corrupted has ever previously attempted.
It's certainly a cliché to suggest that a listener expect the unexpected, but Corrupted has proven time and again that change is their only constant. Garten Der Unbewusstheit provides no exception – it is unmistakably the work of a band who has taken decades to hone a very specific, yet inclusive, craft. There may be longtime fans who will be disappointed by the turn away from the plodding sturm und drang of earlier albums, but Corrupted never remained static. While the rumors that this is the band's final release are certainly disheartening, if they prove correct, this album will serve as a reminder that they were a success, if only by staying true to their trajectory, and by never once making a bad album.