Implodes

Guest Spots: Implodes’ sonic-phenomena counterparts

Implodes: Black Earth Implodes: Black Earth (Kranky, 4/20/11)

Implodes: “Marker”

[audio:http://alarm-magazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/02-Marker.mp3|titles=Implodes: “Marker”]

According to Chicago-based drone-rock band Implodes, its new album, Black Earth, is inspired by a “haunted and magical place,” where “there’s an old barn there with many rooms and a silo that’s filled with dead insects.” With a wealth of slow-moving melodies and dark guitar murmuring tangled in a web of reverb, it’s an aptly creepy description. The Psycho-esque cover art does an equally effective job of communicating the record’s paradoxical beauty and gloom.

All four members of the band answered this question for ALARM: what natural sonic phenomenon best describes your role in Implodes?

Implodes’ Sonic-Phenomena Counterparts
by Implodes

Emily Elhaj:

Naturally, I would hope my sound could be likened to an avalanche. The indistinct rumble of packed snow sliding down a mountain’s façade seems to complement the booming nature and tone of my playing. The sounds are heavy yet mobile.

Justin Rathell:

The world around me has a remarkable way of translating very easily into percussive rhythms, tapping on my ears, begging me to follow along. Playing in Implodes often reminds me of just a couple of choice moments, much darker moments in my times experimenting with hallucinogens.  Times where I was stricken with such overwhelming paranoia that I found myself focusing on the quietest, most isolated sounds.  Sounds that began to grow louder and louder, drowning out other foreground noise that, in reality, was much more prominent. Sometimes, I was hearing the pulse in my neck or the beat of my own heart.  It sounded like drums to me.  It was somehow comforting. Everything else, even my other senses would dull.  Except I think I could see my pulse; it would move the air.