Bakelit hail from Sweden and is the brainchild of Carl Westholm and a group of musicians from a trusted network, built around previous acts such as Carptree and Jupiter Society.
No Fear of Drowning is the project’s second release and was available from late September. You can cop a hold of the digital release from their Bandcamp page at https://bakelit.bandcamp.com/album/no-fear-of-drowning
The lineup for the album is Öivin Tronstad & Cia Backman on vocals; Carl Westholm vocals, bass, electric piano, organ, synthesizers, theremin and programming; Ulf Edelönn guitars; and Jonas Källsbäck bangs the drums.
The album’s lyrics explore the darker aspects of the human psyche yet concludes that these are the very qualities that can make us stronger and more determined to do good.
Six tracks to consider, so let’s get stuck in.
We open with From the Underground, lyrically a call from the deepest bowels of primitive beliefs about our destination as mortal beings following death to The Underground and the hope that our ancestors will arise from the dead, return, and save us all, liberate us in our somewhat disturbed, indeed dystopian, modern world. The opening notes are, therefore, suitably bleak, with an electronic twist as the machines congregate, the opening lyrics, repeated later, having that core theme of the need for redemption. Immediately, you are struck by just how well Tronstad & Backman work together on the vocals, some great harmonies amidst some hard-hitting power as well, especially from Backmann. The programming is impressive, and there is a powerful guitar burst from Edelönn, before the main theme is repeated, almost plaintive, a clever change of emphasis on the fears of a population, the cries building up to a crescendo very effectively, the riffs searing. A very solid start to the album, for sure.
Moment of Peace reminds me of that constant refrain for humans who suffer from anxiety, the psychologists telling us it is, in effect, the primeval “fight or flight” response to a perceived threat, the protagonist here having an ever so brief, but welcome, moment of respite before once again hiding. It is the shortest track on the album at just over the five minute-mark, and it is embedded below for you, a song with a distinct post-rock sensibility to it in the spartan guitar notes especially, and the rhythm section combining to strong effect, with the band again demonstrating a strong ability to change the mood with impact, veering between the quiet pleading to the crunching screaming, some interesting effects amongst all this combined with very strong and heavy guitar soloing.
We Still Hate You follows. It is difficult to pinpoint just who, precisely, is hated. Is it rhetorical, or are we gazing at a loathed politician, a celebrity, a collective, a different tribe, for instance the invective that we shall all, in the end, hate each other? As you can imagine, it is bleak, this time synth-led, with the riffs bubbling underneath to dark sonic effect, the vocals monochrome, both male and female. A song full of drama, if not much light, the intensity blistering as we move to the close.
Weak, Immature, Aggressive is not, my dear readers, a call from me, but, rather, the title of the following track. I have written before of my opinion that humanity is, in effect, a terribly immature species, and you can. I suppose, compare us with our own children at the “terrible two” phase, spitting, crying, snarling, but with an inner beauty which is capable of flowering come growing up, and I do believe that we will, indeed, come through and prosper. I am attracted to the Jon Anderson philosophy as opposed to the doom metal one, I suppose. The opening passage is pure electronica, art rock, with that post-rock foundation always beneath, the relentless riffs and thumping almost militaristic. Thematically, this is perhaps the track I most strongly identify with, with the move to the conclusion almost like some form of Byzantine hymnal ritual, a wall of sound which gets better each time you hear it. It is embedded below.
The title track is the penultimate one here, moving ahead, either on ice or the deepest ocean, without fear of drowning and waiting to be unleashed on the world when the time is right. With some more dark side programming to begin, matters do take a lighter, more positive hue when the vocals talk about rising, being free, as close to a chorus as we get on the work, and the harmonies are very good on this track.
We close with Bombs in My Head, a commentary on the chaos, noise, mental torture which afflicts so many people in the world, let alone the physical war and deprivation all around us, it is a cry to arms, to resist all the negative forces gathering around us, including God Himself, although I find this somewhat ironic given the clear references to priestly chanting and ritualistic order inherent within this song, and I don’t believe they are Satanists. The opening passage is robotic in its intensity, a dark chanting and elaborate gothic metal sense to the chaos around us.
No Fear of Drowning is an album performed very well by a clearly talented collective of musicians and will absolutely appeal to those of you with a more gothic outlook on life. It is very dark, almost apocalyptic, even, using to strong impact the way synths and programming can create that relentless sense of impending doom or crisis.
Not, though, the lightest collection of songs you will spin in 2025.