Antimatter
Saviour
The End, 2002
From 1992-'98, Duncan Patterson played bass guitar for Anathema. He was also
responsible for a great deal of the songwriting and helped shape the sound of
Anathema before departing following the release of Alternative 4, a
recording that Patterson was responsible for 60% of the songwriting for.
Antimatter was created by Patterson along with
guitarist/bassist/keyboardist/vocalist Michael Moss (whose past pursuits I admit
to being ignorant of) and Saviour, their debut album, is a deeply
introspective journey through bleak landscapes of the soul, expressing morose
themes through sounds that are at once haunting and beautiful.
Parallels can clearly be drawn between Duncan's final recording with Anathema
and his first with Antimatter, such as the stark imagery of the packaging behind
which lies a plain white background, as well as similar typed (lower case) font.
The music on Saviour possesses a similar spirit as "Lost Control",
"Destiny" and the title track from Alternative 4, all Patterson-penned
tracks. It seems that Duncan Patterson has discovered his true musical vision
through sonic minimalism and has taken what he explored with Anathema and laid
it out as the foundation for his new project. The back-and-forth shifts from
serene soundscapes to jarring bleakness as heard in the final moments of
highlight track "Flowers" also indicate further developments from themes
explored on past Anathema works. However, Saviour is not the vision of Patterson
alone, as Mick Moss gets credit for nearly half of the material, including the
engaging title track. The music is reliant on haunting ambience, restrained
electronic percussion, pulsating bass and subdued guitars. It brings together
the organic and electronic, forming an atmosphere of static coldness and
stressed melancholia. Voices are provided by Moss (deep, dry tone), Michelle
Richfield (who has leant her angelic vocals to Anathema and Dominion) and the
rich somber waves of Hayley Windsor.
Saviour is designed for intense solitary listening. It is claustrophobic
in its introspection yet it's beauty is inviting. It can be disturbing in its
unsettling atmospheres ("God Is Coming"), embracing in its frailty ("Angelic")
and deadly in its dejection ("Going Nowhere"). Fans of Patterson's contributions
to Anathema should certainly seek this out. There are two bonus acoustic
versions of "Over Your Shoulder" and "Flowers", the latter featuring Anathema
guitarist Daniel Cavanagh on guitar and vocals.
2003
Tracklisting
1. Saviour
2. Holocaust
3. Over Your Shoulder
4. Psalms
5. God Is Coming
6. Angelic
7. Flowers
8. The Last Laugh
9. Going Nowhere
10. Over Your Shoulder (Acoustic)
11. Flowers (Acoustic)
Purchase Antimatter's Saviour.

Antimatter
Lights Out
The End, 2003
The duo of Duncan Patterson and Mick Moss quickly follow up their debut with
Lights Out, an album that is essentially a continuation of the themes, both
musical and lyrical, that was the embodiment of Saviour. Though Lights
Out comes across more dejected and at times even bitter in its dark
introspection, the biggest difference between the two releases is in the
contrasting color foundation in the packaging.
All instrumentation is again handled by Moss and Patterson (additional
percussion by Jamie Cavanagh), with voices provided by the returning Hayley
Windsor and Michelle Richfield, as well as Moss and a brief performance by
Patterson in the title track. By claiming no particular "frontman", Antimatter
employ the appropriate voice required by each track, providing for more
extensive avenues of expression. The lyrics are again introspective takes on
betrayal ("Lights Out"), despair (The Art Of A Safe Landing", "Expire") and the
bitterness that often follows...witness the Moss-penned and Floyd-ian "In
Stone":
"what a big man you are
could fight a war with just your face
take it on the chin and leave me open-jawed
what big words you've got
reciting lines you've heard on film
could write a script with just your lust for respect"
Like Saviour, I find Lights Out most effective when listened to in
its entirety. Antimatter are expert crafters of flowing soundscapes that, while
deeply moving and at times a bit unsettling, encourage complete submission of
the mind and soul. A surrender on part of the listener that, if taken in under
the appropriate conditions ( alone and uninterrupted), makes for a stirring and
rewarding experience. Standout moments do arrive, as in the engaging chorus of
"Everything You Know Is Wrong", courtesy of Moss's earthy, honest singing. "The
Art Of A Soft Landing" recalls the emotive, soaring atmosphere of Anathema
before a distressed scream brings things to a disturbing halt. The
aforementioned "In Stone" is haunted by the spirit of Pink Floyd's "Keep
Talking", though perhaps more contemplative and disconsolate than that
comparison may express. Instrumental closer "Terminal" is beauteous through
serene acoustics and tranquil keys, before falling in and out of disrupting
clashes of impending doom during the tracks closing moments, reminiscent of
Anathema's "Pentecost lll" in its drifting from serenity to condemnation.
Antimatter have constructed another wonderful soundtrack to life's less
comforting moments, offering a fitting sonic backdrop for one's own moments of
reflection. This is deep music that serves a far-reaching purpose.
Lights Out provides a refuge for those who seek a deeper connection through
their listening experiences and is a pure example of how powerful an art form
music can be.
2003
Tracklisting
1. Lights Out
2. Everything You Know Is Wrong
3. The Art Of A Soft Landing
4. Expire
5. In Stone
6. Reality Clash
7. Dream
8. Terminal
Purchase Antimatter's Lights Out.
Antimatter
Planetary Confinement
The End, 2005 The empty glare of
indifferent faces of those who move through life with mechanical
soullessness leaves the awakened spirit of the dreamers with a piercing
desperation and longing for an escape from a cold world of spirit-raping
apathy. This alienation manifests within the songs of Antimatter, through
solemn compositions of stark design and tense emotions. Third effort
Planetary Confinement is a soundtrack of existential detention, the
burden of which strives to crush the will of all who suffer beneath it,
yet evokes a determination to rise above that only falters within the
hopeless souls who’ve surrendered to state of slavery.
"i’m
drowning in a thousand faces
alien
expressions over and over again...
...with no
will to hold on
am I the
only one crushed by the weight of the world?"
Despite a division of composition and performance between Mick Moss and
Duncan Patterson, including recording in separate studios, the disc
maintains a remarkable level of consistency. The material relies on a more
organic approach as compared to past works, with real drums mostly
replacing the electronic percussion that has served as primary rhythmic
foundation previously. Piano and keyboards remain essential, but acoustic
guitars have a larger role here as central point of a song, especially for
tracks composed by Moss, which also contain excellent use of violin to
accentuate the melancholic atmosphere, represented beautifully in
"Epitaph". This less reliance on electronics does not subtract from the
distant coldness of the band’s sound, however. Songs like "Legions" and "The Weight Of The World", Moss-penned
tracks that rely on minimalist percussion and acoustic guitars, are
emotionally penetrating due to Moss’s earthy and honest singing, yet
remain enshrouded in bleak ambience that sets a stage for war between
hopeful yearning and exhausted fatalism. Patterson tracks such as "Line Of
Fire" and "Relapse" operate from more troubled mental faculties, as if
watching the world fall to ruin in slow-motion collapse, idly observing a
welcomed downfall in the realization that things can only get worse, yet
having lost all will to run. New female singer Amelie Festa adorns
Patterson’s songs with a haunting voice of dispirited angels, often
injecting a strange chill as in the intriguing take on Trouble’s "Mr.
White". Connecting the approaches of the stark emotional yearning of Moss
and the disturbed minimalism of Patterson is a shared portrayal of
emotional isolation as walking through crowds of expressionless beings
detached from the flame of life. Empty parking lots in the dead of night.
Walking through deserted subway stations on the way home where awaits a
lonely room, where only shadows provide company while contemplating the
emptiness. This is the music of Antimatter.
"rain washed
the panic from today
decimation
of anxiety
tribulations
drift away
pray
tomorrow offers clarity" While not a departure in
sound and approach in any significant manner, the stronger presence of
organic instrumentation and more pronounced expression of emotional
languishing (particularly in the Moss tracks) offer a slightly different
shade of sound to Antimatter’s music. None of the three Antimatter discs
stands out above the others in quality or approach, as the band have
established a consistency of identity and character, and communicate their
ideas through a sharply defined aesthetic. Yet Planetary Confinement does
suggest something threatening to seep through the surface of their
presentation, something perhaps in the form of a less self-conscious
emotional revelation. This shines through most brightly during the songs
by Mick Moss, whose work stands out on this album in its relation to a
common and well identifiable connection and impact upon the core of human
feeling and desperation. Yet it is Patterson’s "Eternity Part 24" that
leaves the final impact upon the listener, closing the disc with a sea of
ambient synths which at over eight minutes of abstraction presents the
audio equivalent of an actual passage into infinity, of which we can only
hope will be as tranquil as this piece suggests.
6/27/06
Tracklisting:
1. planetary confinement
2. the weight of the world
3. line of fire
4. epitaph
5. mr white
6. a portrait of the young
man as an artist
7. relapse
8. legions
9. eternity part 24
Purchase Antimatter's Planetary Confinement.
Antimatter
The
End
Antimatter Discography
Saviour (The End, 2002)
Lights Out (The End, 2003)
Planetary Confinement (The End, 2005) |