Boris- Boris at Last -Feedbacker- (2003)

Not unlike an ominous premonition, the quiet drone of an idle amplifier invites you. The volume dial is cranked up to 10 and engulfs your ears in overdriven chords that are strummed and sustained for what feels like eternity. A second guitar teases its presence with brief shrills wavering in the background. Open string resonating, the first cohesive and structured bar of music enters, complete with plodding drums. It's brooding and damn near melancholic, tinged with the forsaken characteristics of analog equipment: played and recorded on. Fuzz, feedback and repetition are what plague this epic 44-minute song. If you're familiar with remastered editions of classic records, a large majority still and forever will hold the originals as the true work of art, defects and all. The plague that Boris eminates shines through just as gorgeous as anything else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, of course.

A guitar solo drenched in wah blasts through just as Feedbacker begins climbing to the top of its first peak. The fuzz becomes overwhelming and dominates the mix, sounding more like a disaster of Mother Nature than it does music. It dissipates very quickly and makes space for Japanese sung vocals. Don't worry about translating any of it. Let the emotion of the music translate it for you. However, within minutes, the soul of the Melvins abruptly takes over and launches the massive suite into a stoner rock jam that packs a monstrous punch. The peaks are jagged and refuse to remain in one spot, as the guitars shift from distorted messes to clean tones accentuated with echoes. While only just past its halfway mark, Feedbacker's crescendo comes upon quickly, but sticks around for another eternity. Cymbal crashes become crackling havoc on top of looping drones and feedback for several minutes before the hurricane dies down.
The record ends on a reprise of the original verse, showing evidence that it's stunningly based around a simple song structure; granted, the verses are stretched out to hell and back and it bares little-to-none resemblance to most things one would call music. Feedbacker is a testament to unbridled art, leaving the reins at home to roam wild in its natural state of beauty and ugliness.