Do you still remember Sult‘s terrible visage devoid of skin? You know, the totally terrified look of some unfortunate human being enduring atrocious torture and not knowing what comes next? Yes, that guy. Well, it looks like somebody just tried to cover this up and reconstitute the facial features. Only, they did a total fuck job and the scarred tissue ain’t pretty in its pinkish horror. Welcome to Bedlam. Scream at me, Kollapse. If you still can do so without a mouth, that is. Ouch, endless pain ahead.
To get things straight. AR – the title of the record – has nothing to do with the AR-15, the rifle. Nor does it relate to augmented reality or something. It simply means scar in Danish and the moniker’s a perfect key to what you are about to experience. And what is Kollapse yet again doing on our feed? After all, the RMR crew ain’t real fanbois of anything with ‘core slathered over it. Well, it is because these guys milled their trade into an art. Post Hardcore that is pretty far removed from the mindless fury of some of their punk-driven adlebrained brethren.
Instead, AR here deals with hefty themes. This time the band gets up close and personal by dragging you, the listener, through an uncomfortably close – and I quote – “…amalgamation of experiences lived.” In other words, you’re involved, want it or not. And Kollapse will make sure that you feel every cut and incision without anesthesia.
So, sure enough, out the door is Sult‘s meaty and – in comparison – still relatively smooth and benign sound. Instead, you get that terrible thing, an entity you never wanted to encounter. A malevolent force that proves to be “…abrasive and angular to force the listener to feel the sweaty anxiety and sonic grime.” A piece full of breakdowns into hardcore, feedback-filled screeches, and wildly abrasive chuggery. A jumble of tracks where dystopian dissonance is the norm and the daemonic bass player wields his axe like a weapon of war. A roar of desperation that uses drums to beat some sense into the fray and pound anything in its way into the dust. Expertly done stick-wielding abuse on another plane of existence than what we found on Sult.
AR sports a strangely unsettling environment that caustically scrapes away at your sanity. To the point that Peter Clement Lund‘s anguished screams often come as a welcome relief. And if this sounds like some Stockholm Syndrome of a torture victim, then this is because it really feels like it. Luckily we still have some ambients here and there (Form, for instance) that seem to offer a short reprieve from that madhouse rock all around you. But make no mistake, the break into more atmospheric realms will be short-lived. AR will remain relentless, brutal, and acidly in yer face until Transformation peters out.
In the end, we were glad AR only lasted around 34 minutes or so. Starting with the screechy intro, Kollapse mercilessly peels away layer upon layer of your sense of normalcy. And as you dive deeply into those maniacal musings, you’ll find your wits withering away in the seething fire of whacky emotions and a general sense of desolation. Some sonic grime alright.
The band truly managed to get their tortured sentiments across. But did AR deliver on musical prowess, too? And the answer is: it depends. If you ask a non-metallist, it’s probably mule-puke. The RMR crew – in contrast – was torn at first. But then it grew on us and we started to appreciate the rough-hewn, noisy, and punkish musical prowess on display. In other words, it takes a lot of skill to create that kind of forlorn atmosphere. And that led us to an album that is as pestiferous as it is good.
Exactly as the band announced it.
Record Rating: 7/10 | Label: Fysisk Format / Vinyltroll Records / Head Records | Web: Official Band Site
Release Date: 8 March 2024