Originally written by Chris Redar
From Metal Archives:
No band members are credited on the liner notes of the band’s sole recording. The 3 members of the band would like to remain anonymous. This includes live lineups.
That’s right: we’ve got another “hidden band” on our hands. What is it these Toronto, Ontario men/women going for? Is it the “ooh, look at how creepy we are, with our on-stage cloaks and shit” angle? Do they all suffer from leprosy, or maybe elephantitis? I’d like to think that the members are simply rational humans who grew weary of explaining themselves to their families and co-workers. (“Oh, you play that rawr-rawr devil crap, huh? You think that’s cool or something? You need to find Jesus, motherfucker.”) It’s like living on a broken record sometimes…
One thing is for certain: Thantifaxath don’t need any help in the creep factor mentioned in example one. Sacred White Noise makes great strides in travelling the path between the sane mind and the inner thoughts of the much less sane. It’s evident from the off-kilter organ and dissonant riff that kicks off “The Bright White Nothing at the End of the Tunnel” that we’re dealing with artists willing to shape some of their nastier inclinations into noises that represent such leanings. It’s like circus music composed from a ferris wheel in Chernobyl.
Of course, unsavory noises should be expected from a band that elects to go nameless and faceless. And there is a fair share of typical black metal structure floating around. (Mid-neck fretwork, the stutter-step blast, high-pitchd vocals.)That part is all well and good, but Sacred White Noise has a couple of tricks up its huge cloak sleeve.
One such act of chicanery: Thantifaxath aren’t afraid to go fuckin’ BIG with a heavy groove. The track mentioned above has a section that would absolutely get a pit going at a hardcore show. I almost had one going in the Dirty D the other day, until I remembered I was driving and should probably stop slamming my elbow into my center console.
“Gasping In Darkness,” after a fair amount of build, lets loose with a gallop so thunderous you may just open your curtain to see if it’s storming. This gives way to a gorgeous shoegazey passage before the walloping returns. It’s another thing Sacred White Noise has going for it: When things need a little classing up from the filth, Thantifaxath bust out the Windex. “Where I End and the Hemlock Begins” has an almost-acoustic riff at the end that wouldn’t be out of place on an Alice in Chains album. (A real one, mind you. No Layne, no AiC. Fight me.)
An argument could be made for or against the song lengths. Of the six tracks, only one dips below the six minute mark, and one flirts with twelve. It’s necessary for the material, and it’s probably a fair bet that this was meant to be consumed all at once. It’s of the opinion of this future carpal-tunnel sufferer that it’s totally worth it, but those with bite-sized tastes might find this to be a bit much. This also concludes on a massive down-note, so walking away from an album mildly depressed might not be a good way to go about one’s business. I would suggest existing in a state of mild perma-depression to begin with and give Sacred White Noise a go.
