It’s easy to mistake KOLLAPS\E for Danish post-metal trio, Kollapse, or even for Australian post-industrial noise terrorists, Kollaps. It’s a word in demand among artists that want to unsettle listeners, and the Swedish quartet behind the music of this debut release are just as anguished and unbalanced. Indeed, the Helsingborg group take inspiration from their fellow Swedes in Cult of Luna. Post-metal is the nearest term you can use to describe the bipolar audio experience of Phantom Centre, and there is no shortage of contemporary artists in this field, but who starts an avant-garde doom band to be trendy? KOLLAPS\E write and record music because it’s the only way they can make sense of the world.
The sound of predatory reptiles in rotation with a trippy arpeggiated synth loop is not the way you’d expect any record to begin in this genre, but the clamp of gain-heavy guitars and roaring vocals in ‘ERA’ arrive soon enough to put you at unease. Listen to the face-scarring distortion and violent palm-muted techniques of Peter Walefors and Daniel Wallenborg in this maelstrom of aggression – ouch! Emotions run high and unrestrained. This is the music that captures the phenomenon of survivor’s guilt with its manic-depressive dynamics. Of course, with this dichotomy between calm and distress comes the chance to experience the ups and downs of introspection. ‘Beautiful Desolate’ is like a sludge metal assault but with an ethereal tonality. Here, you can see why post-metal has more in common with Swans than Soilent Green. Close your eyes and you can hear illusory violin bows in the quieter moments. The music is so cold and unsentimental in its external appearance.
Why is post-metal so egalitarian in its treatment of each musician in a group? More artists should pay attention to the way the bass and drums carry the thrust of ‘Aneamia’ while the guitars and vocals fume like overheated kitchen appliances. Wallenborg’s spleen-rupturing strain of voice is perfect for the tortured conscience of this song. The violent doom metal stylings of ‘Radiant//Static’ will force you take a step back and alleviate the pressure on your facial muscles. Wallenborg might not realise you’re on the receiving end of his visceral anger, but you’ll have no choice but to get out of his way. Is it a good thing that KOLLAPS\E sound like the fidgety distress of an extended power cut in a house with no heating or electronic amenities to entertain you? Mmm… Yes, it is. If nothing else, it demonstrates their skill for creating a vivid sense of place.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of this album is its willingness to consider the listener’s needs every so often. This is not something you can level at most bands of this ilk, but thirty-six minutes is just right for the trauma and harmful rumination on record here. There’s nothing self-indulgent about the eight minutes and thirty-five seconds of ‘Uhtceare’, even if the extended intro of e-bow and pedal loop effects provide the foundations for the first two minutes. You need calm before you make life-changing decisions that could jeopardise your health. The heavy palm-muted guitar riffs and discordant wash of electricity pulsating through the music might even talk you down from the skyscraper’s edge.
Phantom Centre is that moment when you see yourself biting your nails in the mirror’s reflection and realise that you’re alone and without human company. Why are you so self-conscious and prone to overthinking everything? It’s good to know that KOLLAPS\E suffer from the same doubts in private. The way they finish in maximum overdrive with all instruments boiling at the end of closing track, ‘Murrain’, will remind you of your instinct for survival. You might dread tomorrow or next year, but your protective mechanisms and habits will kick in at your lowest ebb. All you can do is unleash the frustration when nobody can see you.
JVB
Verdict
Release Date: 13/01/2023
Record Label: Trepanation Recordings
Standout tracks: ERA, Anaemia, Murrain
Suggested Further Listening: Everest Queen – Murmurations (2022), Light Beneath – Light Beneath (2022), Absent in Body – Plague God (2022)