We Lost The Sea

There’s no other way to best enjoy We Lost The Sea’s debut album, The Quietest Place On Earth, than dropping all activities and letting yourself be wholly immersed in the cinematic soundscapes and post-metal brilliance that make up this record.

The opening of A Quiet Place brings with it a sense of foreboding. The sound of a delicate piano creeps into a crescendo of low murmurs, and as the chilling vocals increase in volume, the accompaniment becomes ever-so-slightly-more intense. A cymbal crashes distantly in small bursts, the tune that was once played on the piano now becomes a guitar until, after five and a half minutes of suspense, all the elements of the track come together in a bright but subtle wall of sound. Just as the track peaks, it’s then over, leaving you on the very edge of your seat.

The transition into Barkhan Charge keeps you in that position. A lone, twinkling guitar turns into an amalgamation of growls, rumbling guitars and a hollow, reverberating drum-kit. Like the song that came before it, Barkhan Charge closes with an abrupt halt, neatly shifting from the doom and gloom into something sweeter and more harrowing.

It’s very easy for a band with such strong post-rock influences to sound derivative, but We Lost The Sea prove their originality with the amount of variation present in this album. It showcases an impressive dynamic range of different styles and skill-sets yet nothing feels out of place. - The Music.com.au

We Lost The Sea’s new record The Quietest Place on Earth is a trolling, sludge littered iconoclast of a record. Heartbreaking and heavy as the stones that built the Giza pyramids, We Lost The Sea find ways to entice a sound that’s familiar, but crush nonetheless. Dredging up the sonic palate of the of the golden era of the Hydra head lineup, WLTS harkens back to the mid to late 90’s chaos that found bands such as Sleep, Neurosis, Isis, Botch, St. Vitus atop everyone’s minds, and playlists.

The Quietest Place on Earth is sprawling in scope as it traverses the simplest textures and drones into beefy riffage that could be hacked up and served to starving mouths. The musicianship from a band that consists of seven members can get lost in the noise, if not tackled correctly – (see Slipknot. You can’t even tell there’s like 30 dudes in the band), but, with We Lost The Sea, each member does a fantastic job at holding their own instruments at a machine gun ferocity even when it’s the slightest strum laced with delay. That’s the mark of a good band, when everything creates that massive, layered sound, and in these cases, no one shines, it’s a collective force coming together to create a staggering output that no one thing is greater than the whole of the music.

Forgotten People is a beautiful piece that showcases angelic female vocals that lend a sense of clarity, and open the record up even further to interpretation.

Being an Aussie band, the backwards timings, and outsider mentality save the band from any kind of perverse entitlement a band this good would have, had they been from The States. The Quietest Place on Earth doesn’t beat you down with one haymaker after another, it builds and collapses like a Radiohead record would, it shows a band capable of creating strange textures, and brilliant musical patterns. As the ebb and flow of the record crashes and falls, there’s a sense of immediacy that shows an influence of bands like Refused, and the later Poison the Well, even some of The Minor Times, the jangling ferocity of hardcore masters of the un-fuckwithable Converge and the signature growl of Coalesce can be found traipsing through the temporal sound. A Day and Night of Misfortune is a brutal, escalating monster of a song that would make even the most stringent metal heads spill their Pabst while head bobbing along to the sheer ferocity of the throaty, guttural screams. Scott Kelly should be watching his back right now, the boys from We Lost The Sea are capable of playing his game, and giving a tough kind of music a very distinct personality. With Grace is a developing storm that flashes into deep oceans, never coming up for air as the guitars swell into a grand orchestra of noise, but coupled with clarity, it’s a test in patience to wait for the vicious attack to begin.

Being trapped on the other side of the planet must be the new breeding ground for theatrical sludge; Australia – a land of killer pot, ferocious kangaroos, and a sense of lament that can cripple the ears, one nasty riff at a time. We Lost The Sea are a reckoning force, and a breath of fresh air when everyone all, but thought a genre was dead. It wasn’t it was just being reinvented down under. - Black Country Rock

What is the most peaceful place in the world? I tried to look on the web, find Cape Verde, some islands of Thailand, Oceania and so on from the proposals of the users. Oceania will be a chance ... but the band today, comes from the world's youngest continent, namely Australia and Sydney, my favorite city of all, where in recent months, in cohabitation with Melbourne, there seems to be a ferment music nothing short of explosive. The We Lost the Sea, the aussie guys of today, have caught my attention for several reasons: first, because of the color (a soothing and calming blue) that characterizes their web page and basic but charming cover CD, which can not recall the feat of Felix Baumgartner and his launch from 39,000 feet and then, last but not least, the proposal of the combo and engaging in an exciting post metal.

A disc that starts quiet, graceful on the notes of "A Quiet Place" that slowly grows in intensity, unraveling between sound borderline between post metal and post-hardcore (perhaps more linked to this for the rough vocals). The melody and calm at the level of rhythm, it is also confirmed in the subsequent "Barkhan Charge", which tries to follow in the footsteps of the gods American Neurosis, then taking their own way, and highlighting at this point a well-defined personality of ours. Environments post rock break the patterns dictated by the fearsome riffoni corrosive sludge of the seven-piece Australian. This feature is revealed in the great long third track, "With Grace" beginning entrusted to a long tunnel made ??of soft lights and muffled sounds, that allow me to get completely comfortable (here he is back again the theme of the site more quiet in the world).

I isolate myself completely from the outside world, nothing is more able to disturb me, and I feel almost lulled by the gentle plucking of the strings of the guitar. But there is something disturbing buzzing in the background, I perceive distance, but gradually approach seems more and therefore alerted my senses, as if ready to attack the band, that will actually attack, only ten minutes later , and only for a minute before risprofondare in the dark of night. Increasingly fascinated by the sounds of We Lost the Sea, affront "Forgotten People" absolutely not imagine what's waiting for me.

A piano, angelic female vocals, a rhythmic song made ??of acoustic guitar and drums in my head recalled the good old days of Anneke in The Gathering, especially in the way of singing the sweet girl. Just in time to an interlude and burst forth "A Day and Night of Misfortune", a song in two acts, which opens with all the arrogance of a strong guitar steamroller and vigorous vocals of frontman Chris Torpy, and at the end, comes even paraphrasing a passage from "Moby Dick" by Melville, on soft touches of piano. "The Quietest Place on Earth" is an album that lives sull'emozionalità very well expressed by the music ensemble in the Southern Hemisphere, offering a fine example of post metal / post rock well balanced, highlighting the qualities, countless influences (which come to lead even in the shoegaze) of a band really exciting, it can certainly aspire to raise the scepter of reality scioltesi vacant or have lost the enamel of better times.

Meanwhile, you have identified what is the quietest place in the world? Take a listen to We Lost the Sea, perhaps you might be surprised ... (Francesco Scarci) - The Pit Of The Damned

I’ve been listening to quite a bit of post metal/sludge/doom/drone/shoegaze/post-rock over the Christmas holiday break (well all year really) and among the shit there’s some good and some excellent stuff about. Unfortunately though, most of it has some niggle however small, whether it be aspects like the mix, the lack of variety, dodgy vocals or simply limited imagination. Not always enough to ruin the whole record, but enough to be a small stone in your shoe.

Along comes We Lost The Sea with their second album, “The Quietest Place On Earth”. Over the course of the seven tracks the seven members of the band hold your attention for a full hour and 42 seconds. It will lull you into a false sense of security, disarm you then plunge a sword through you before holding your bleeding body in its arms.

On first listen you can try to second guess what’s coming as much as you want but the album is wonderfully unpredictable with no structure being repeated and no distinct style settled on. This doesn’t mean it’s without identity though, which is part of its splendour. I’ve often written that much of the best music is built on the relationship of contrasts, of opposing forces. In “The Quietest Place On Earth” these forces dance together at times while at others grab each other by the throat. It’s these contrasting elements and the unpredictable but fluid way in the way they interact that provides the record with its identity. This sort of contrast and variety can feel disjointed and out of place, but this record knows exactly where it’s going, even if you don’t.

This isn’t a cheery record and can become quite violent – a Sutcliffe Jügend kind of violence rather than grindcore violence. For example the quieter passage following the magnificent tortured climax in the closing song ‘Day and Night of Misfortune, II) Night’ is aftermath rather than afterglow. Of course it is also so very beautiful in that way only depressing music can be. If you are looking for a theme it’s worth noting the quote and thanks to Colonel Joseph Kittinger, who held the record for highest skydive for many years. The idea of floating to the edge of space before plunging to the ground certainly fits the bill, although the landings tend to feel like there was no parachute involved.

There is no one leading instrument in these songs, nor are there vocals for the most part. The music itself is rich and layered, calling on the services of three guitarists, two pianists plus drums, bass, glock and samples. At times it will be piano that carries the song, at others samples or guitar, and bass and drums get every opportunity to shine. Some tracks are pure sludge and post-metal, others using shimmering post-rock guitar. The third song ‘With Grace’ takes post-rock crescendocore to new heights with the most gradual build-up you may have ever heard as the volume picks up over the course of over ten minutes – the pace quickens too along with some intriguing timing variations. The middle track, ‘Forgotten People’ is more alternative/indie rock with beautiful guest vocals (and lyrics) by Belinda Licciardello.

Apart from ‘Forgotten People’ the vocals are mostly screaming monotone phrases from Chris Torpy and although reminiscent of the likes of Scott Kelly and Mike Armine, are recognisably unique. Building on great composition and performances, what producer Tim Carr has done so well is not let the loud vocals drown out the music. Instead the two forces face off against each other, each finding its power and strength from a different source which in turn creates the impression of melody in the lyrics despite there being none.

The compostitions are thoughtful, the performances faultless. This all adds up to an aural journey packed with emotion, tension, drifting highs and intense, crushing lows that treads an unexpected path. But surely this is not the quietest place on earth? Unless the quietest place on earth is not on earth at all but at 100,000 feet where you don’t know you’re falling at 614 miles an hour. In which case this album most definitely is. - This Is Not A Scene.com

Music is an art form. Like drawing or painting, it requires passion and years of practice to perfect. Within painting, there are thousands of fantastic artists, all with a unique creativeness and mindset. However, only a select few gain the respect of the average folk. Only a few people's work will ever turn into a masterpiece, (Picasso or Van Gogh for example) leaving hundreds of artists in the dust. I suppose what I'm getting at is that We Lost The Sea are the musical form of those artists; something that will fly under the radar, unnoticed by most.

We should change that.

We Lost The Sea is a seven piece post-metal band from all the way down under. To be short and sweet, they simply blew me away at first listen. From the first 30 seconds of melancholic atmosphere I knew this was going to be good: the piano intro, the mellow and soothing guitars, the eruption of screams and crashing cymbals, everything… everything was perfect.

The music is that of a fickle kind, long tracks, a lot of ambience; most would find a release such as this boring and almost annoying. However, these tracks are filled with bustling riffs, slow, heart-moving bass lines, and my personal favourite, piano pieces that add a little extra to an already solid formula. After a buildup of energy, the music is released in a fury of screams and powerful drum blasts. The heaviness rains down upon the listener, trapping them in the void that is The Quietest Place On Earth.

I suppose you could say that the cover is a fairly good image to describe the music: floating through space on a cloud of ambience, viewing the world far below. The feeling of being worry free, and just… being, it all comes together here.

But wait,

Something is wrong.

While floating lifelessly overtop of the world, something begins to happen. Your gentle movement increases its speed; its movements become less fluid, and then, all of a sudden the once invincible mass of cloud dissipates from beneath you.

You begin to fall and fall, spinning out of control back into our atmosphere. Plummeting towards the ground, you realise all of the mistakes and regrets you have in life. All of the little things you wish you could change, it all rushes to your head. You come to terms with your fate; you understand that your time has come. You shed a few tears as your body nears closer to the ground.

It's all over now. - Metal Storm

In today's music scene, post-metal is a difficult genre for new bands to break into. Many bands have been cursed with the Isis or Neurosis-clone tag, using the same tired build-ups and sludgy guitars, and to be honest, it's become increasingly overcrowded. Enter Aussie seven-piece We Lost The Sea and their second release, The Quietest Place on Earth.

Rather than opting for the typical formula of crushing heaviness, broken up by post-rock interludes, We Lost the Sea create a subtle, expansive atmosphere, which lends the heavy moments more weight when the band does choose to plunge the listener into the depths. The first track, "A Quiet Place" transitions from shimmering post-rock guitars and hushed vocals to sludgy riffs and vocalist Chris Torpy's raw, throaty screams, but the song keeps a melodic atmosphere, aided by the use of piano. Then, the song reaches it's climax, enveloping the listener with heavy-yet-melodic riffs and soaring clean vocals. The aforementioned piano will reappear on several tracks, adding a dynamic that is rarely heard in this style of music.

The next song, "Barkhan Charge"; a fairly straightforward sludge metal affair, is followed up by the post-rock ambience of "With Grace", which builds up to a heavy crescendo with shoegaze guitar-work, displaying the different range of styles the band brings to the table. The beauty that this record is capable of is shown nowhere better than the track "Forgotten People"; a gorgeous, piano-led piece with female vocals, that builds up to a breathtaking climax. It all comes to a satisfying conclusion with the two-part "A Day and Night of Misfortune", a crushing, atmospheric journey that brings all of the elements of the album together, ending with a mournful piano piece accompanied by a sample from Herman Melville's Moby Dick. The band's sound benefits from the spacious production values; each instrument is crystal clear and none of the dynamics are lost in the mix.

With an expansive, dynamic sound and excellent balance of post-rock and metal elements, aided by the superb production, We Lost The Sea create an album that stands out in the world of post-metal, and the music scene in general. Highly recommended. - Sputnik Music

There seems to be an endemic of cookie-cutter ‘post’ bands who struggle to get out of the shadow of their heroes to find their own identity. Worse still, many take their lack of originality to new heights of professionalism; matching their bland, uninspired music with carefully rehearsed stage-moves and towering production values. They are then promptly showered with praise by arty European post-crowds, none of whom are too sure if they are being ironic.

I can think of few things more depressing than a professionally bland rock band. They seem an insult to musicians who pour their souls into what they do; shadowy wraiths devoid of original thought let alone honest self-expression. I’m trying hard not to name names, but somehow listening to such bands really torments me – far worse than if they were just outright terrible. Perhaps it’s a matter of wasted potential. Perhaps is just a little bit of jealousy as to their success.

But I digress.

It is against this backdrop of skepticism and cynicism that I sit back to absorb We Lost the Sea‘s new record The Quietest Place on Earth. Thankfully, I have no fear of having to relive my trauma, because this album is excellent.

The Quietest Place on Earth opens delicately; a softly played grand piano and whispered vocals over a gentle, shoegaze guitar. The piece builds layer upon layer for the next eight minutes before reaching a dramatic climax. The second track, ‘Barkhan Charge’, however, is far less subtle. Vocalist Torpy roars while the band proceeds to repeatedly bludgeon the listener with the full power of their weighty ensemble.

The difference between these two songs sets up a dynamic that seems to carry through the album – softer, introspective pieces offset by moments of brutal intensity. This variety makes this album such a pleasure to listen to. Songs like ‘With Grace’ recall the more beautiful moments of Godspeed You! Black Emperor, while ‘A Day and Night of Misfortune – ii Night’ sinks into the dark, driving depths of Earth‘s Hex: Or Printing in the Infernal Method.

But the real standout – and surprise – of the album is ‘Forgotten People’; a gorgeous, vocally-driven track featuring one Bel Licciardello. This piece too opens with a grand piano and stripped back drums, before building to an emotional crescendo of gazing, shimmering guitars.

The album closes with a grinding final track that gives way to spacious piano work and Orson Wells reciting the opening passage from Herman Melville’s Moby Dick. An impressive ending for a profoundly impressive album.

Songs like ‘Forgotten People’ demonstrate just how far We Lost the Sea have matured beyond their debut effort. They’ve revealed themselves as a preeminent post-metal band with a strong feel for the more nuanced dynamics of shoegaze, ambiance and post-rock.

The impact of these songs is compounded by gorgeous production work. Tim Carr’s work over at Studios 301 is impeccable. Each instrument has plenty of dynamic room to breathe, and the mix is faultless — which is really saying something when a band like We Lost the Sea boasts seven-plus members. The vastness of their sound is impressive.

This another one of those Australian albums that fills me with a sense of happiness and contentment knowing that my friends and fellow musicians are capable of producing music that is on-par — if not better than — the vast majority of what is offered internationally. I only hope a day will come where bands such as We Lost the Sea get the attention they serve on the world stage.

Certainly shortlisted for the best of 2012, and essential for any fans of Cult of Luna, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Isis, Rosetta, Russian Circles - or anyone who likes intelligent, cinematic music. I am very excited to get my hands on this awesome double LP.

Band: We Lost the Sea
Album: The Quietest Place on Earth
Year: 2012
Genre: Post-metal / shoegaze / post-rock
Label: Bird’s Robe Records
Origin: Sydney, Australia
http://welostthesea.bandcamp.com/

Track-list:

A Quiet Place
Barkhan Charge
With Grace
Forgotten People
Nuclear City
A Day and Night of Misfortune – i. Day
A Day and Night of Misfortune – ii. Night - Metal Obsession

Stare with me at these mountains, will you? Observe how static and grand they are. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation or the extra blood sugar, or a combination of both, but I just can't look past the gloominess in We Lost the Sea's cover for their 2010 album _Crimea_. The album takes its name from a Ukrainian peninsula that was the scene of a bloody war in the mid 19th century between the former Russian Empire and a European alliance. The area was grossly devastated and its population plummeted as a result of the military struggle. It's a region that has seen a lot of suffering, and these lads from Sydney were successful in rendering this suffering through _Crimea_.

Track one "The Vessel" is the perfect introduction to this journey back in history. It's a journey in a maritime vessel that leads to the Crimean Mountains you see on the album cover. "Hail! The Star of the Sea" fires the long range barrage that brings forth the mass devastation of the land. The fury of the mountains is evoked and they fire back as "Balaklava Cold" rolls in with a faster pace and a set of more frequently twitching nerves. "Siege of Sevastopol" follows Leo Tolstoy's pattern of describing the inane siege of the city over three stages as the song builds up in intensity with each stage to further insinuate the horrors of war.

The fury of the mountains has reached its limit after the siege and they have had enough. Their response is now final. They force everyone to "March to Scutari" and end the suffering of this once safe haven. Scutari is where a British heroin by the name of Florence Nightingale and her colleagues made it their sole purpose to attend to the soldiers wounded in the Crimean war. On the other side of the black sea, the ever present mountains attend to the wounded lands of the Crimean peninsula as they take their time to heal from the greed of war. The lads muster up a splendid aural depiction of this healing as the song reaches an uplifting mood in its second half, signifying a sun rising on more peaceful days. And being the simple and breathtaking scene it is; the album cover just says it all. - http://www.chroniclesofchaos.com