The Slaves' Spirts of the Sun is a hard album to take in pieces. It’s a layered mass of sound that pairs the beautifully serene, choral vocals of the duo with a looming undercurrent of doom and shoegaze foam that threatens to consume it at each available instance. The songs bleed. They bleed into each other. They bleed noise and they bleed a consuming sadness, like audible tears for an unmarked grave. It seems impossible that the weight of the music recorded by Barbara Kinzle and Birch Cooper could be contained within the twelve inches of this record. It feels like the thing should drop from your hands from the sheer impact of amplifier drone that's contained in its grooves. The comparisons have, and will continue to be made to Grouper, Sunn o))) and My Bloody Valentine and if you like any or all of those three you'll be perfectly at home here, but The Slaves manage to take those touchstones and make them into their own religious vibration, a hymn to the rumble of tectonic plates and a chorus to the expanse of sky. It’s definitely a record that needs to be on your listening pile for 2012.
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