Boards of Canada's latest album, 'Inferno', is a mesmerizing journey through the realms of hope and despair, a true testament to the band's artistic evolution. The album's release was a global event, with fans eagerly awaiting the band's return after a 13-year hiatus. The Inferno Sessions, held in seven cities worldwide, were a spectacle to behold, with each venue offering a unique experience. The album itself is a masterpiece, blending the band's signature sound with a modern twist, and it's this fusion that makes 'Inferno' so captivating.
One of the most intriguing aspects of 'Inferno' is its narrative structure. The album can be seen as a map to the 'hell' we are currently experiencing, with each track offering a glimpse into this dystopian landscape. The opening track, 'Prophecy', sets the tone with its haunting melody and vocoded Vox Dei, leaving listeners in a state of anticipation. The track's duration, 72 seconds, is a subtle reference to the Wow! Signal, a mysterious narrowband transmission that has never been repeated, adding an air of enigma to the album.
As the album progresses, the listener is transported through a series of landscapes, from the kick-driven grooves of 'Naraka' to the immersive chemical vistas of 'Into the Magic Land'. The album's evolution is evident, with each track offering a new perspective on the band's sound. 'Naraka', for instance, showcases the band's ability to blend bone-needle percussion with sinuous synth lines, creating a unique and captivating atmosphere. 'Into the Magic Land', on the other hand, is a haunting Western ballad, with its clean-tone guitar chimes and sombre synth sequence, evoking the contemplative corners of Philip Glass's 'Koyaanisqatsi' score.
What makes 'Inferno' truly remarkable is its ability to balance ambivalence and hope. The album's crepuscular cadences and atmospheric shimmer cut through the leaden dread, offering a glimmer of light in the darkness. The end of the world, as depicted in the album, does not extinguish our longings but rather lodges shards of heaven within the hell we've brought upon the land. This is a powerful message, one that resonates with listeners on a deeply personal level.
However, 'Inferno' is not just a reflection on the end of the world; it is also a commentary on the cultural milieu we find ourselves in. The album's retro-inflected origins are evident, with its lo-fi music, analogue synthesizers, and retro aesthetics. But 'Inferno' surpasses the simple ubiquity of nostalgia, offering a hypnotic assemblage of haunted media in 'Tape 05'. The album's sonic fidelity is a testament to the band's archival acumen and control of the sonic palette, allowing the album's gods to shine through.
In my opinion, 'Inferno' is a masterpiece that transcends the simple recuperation of the band's retro-inflected origins. Boards of Canada enjoin us to abandon 'hauntology', that tattered lens through which retrospective impulses have been refocused into rescues of lost futures. Instead, the album confronts the cosmic and chthonic forces that precede human inscription, yearning to see through a world of ongoing ruination straight to the archaic substrate that lies beneath it. The final stretch of the album feels like a return to the cocoon, a desire for an incubation preceding selfhood, reconciling the cult of childhood with the eschatological temper of the band's later catalogue.
In conclusion, 'Inferno' is a thought-provoking and emotionally charged album that offers a unique perspective on the human condition. It is a testament to the band's artistic evolution and a must-listen for fans of ambient and electronic music. The album's global release and the Inferno Sessions were a celebration of the band's return, and it is a testament to the power of music to transport and transform.
