It’s been a long five years since Outlander’s last LP. It’s almost felt like a lifetime even; today’s world is such a drastically different place to optimistic one that greeted The Valium Machine back in 2019. But to rush is not the Outlander way. In a fashion that harkens the creative ethos of the slowcore collective’s previous tourmates Bossk, the band’s records are to be savoured. In direct odds to the instant gratification that many have come to expect from the music, Outlander’s work carries a weight that can only come from a prolonged creative gestation process. This was true for their fantastic two track EP Sundowning/Unconditional back in 2021 and it’s further highlighted with their new record Acts of Harm, a slow, glacial record that unfolds slowly yet wonderfully.
A continuation of the monochrome isolationist nature of the 2021 EP aforementioned, Acts of Harm is not for those wishing for a quick dumb dopamine hit. Nor is it for anyone longing for a something upbeat or anything that would even remotely be classed as sounds of summer. Harkening that icy, glacial punishment of Kowloon Walled City and the meditative shoegaze of Hum, Dusker and Cloakroom albeit with that iconic UK twist, Acts of Harm is a record reserved for those quiet nighttime hours of longing and reflection; ideally reflection upon one own’s uneventful life characterised by mundane repetition and the monotone motorik rhythm that propels it.
The fuzzy opener ‘Bound’ and the proceeding ‘Want No More’ make this apparent in a way that’s disarming. Reminiscent of the bleak shoegaze of old and with the languished vocals of Ian Grant wallowing in the distortion, these tracks fit like a well-worn jumper or hoodie. It’s comforting, retable and inviting with it’s longform slowgaze. It’s an atmosphere most heavy and immersive, and ultimately, the way it presents the mood of modern living is potent to be verge of being suffocating. It’s impossible not to ruminate on the futile nature of modern living and the decline of life satification that comes with the humdrum nature of an anxiety-riddled adulthood here.
As the wisp and reverb of ‘Want No More’ fill the lungs and brain receptors, one can only reflect upon how that aforementioned hoodie may bring comfort, but at a cost that out-prices excitement and adventure. It’s the soundtrack to coming to terms with how life is nothing more than just mortgages and uneventful acts of escapism that will one day conclude with an uneventful death via cardiovascular disease or something else totally unremarkable. The instrumental natures of the following ‘II: Nuclear’ and ‘Orbit’ then allow one to digest such thoughts quietly, alone and with pure unshakable extensionalism. These songs are great like that.
But what makes these songs so potent are how fleshed out they are. These songs aren’t in a rush to drive home the lethargy that’s inherent. After all, that would be redundant and contrast with their purpose. Across the seven songs that form this record, these songs evolve slowly, delicately and with a real sense of thought that mirrors a mind utterly sombre. The ashen, spaciously crestfallen and absolutely positively miserable ‘New Motive Power’ is a fantastic example of this in thanks to it’s reflection on communication breakdowns in the era of digital loneliness, but it’s the almost 12 minute ‘Lye Waste’ that makes this crystal. Feeling akin to the Acts Of Harm’s load-bearing moment and filled with that same fraught space as Swans, the track is the embodiment of the record in thanks to it’s slow, subtle tonal shifts that transform the track over passing minutes. It’s music to absently stare beyond the windows of a barren bedroom to, whilst a freshly brewed mug of tea cools undisturbed. It’s bleak, yet so relatable and strangely cathartic.
However, the true beauty of this record lies with it’s closer, the three-and-a-half minute ‘II: Habituation’. Here, free and gentle, the disparity is dispersed and the tension of the record dissolves. It’s a sense of quiet catharsis that’s just so palatable it’s almost physical. However, to get this sense of release, one would require the tension of the record to seep in fully. And such is the nature of this record and Outlander as a whole. Much like their approach to writing, Acts of Harm is a record that is a product of prolonged mediation and one that requires it to be enjoyed to it’s full extent. Honestly, in an age where music is a commodity, we require bands and records like this crucially; entities that carry the sense of years worth of consideration and emotion. Should we have to wait until 2029 to get another record as brilliant and as authentically emotive as this from Outlander, then, well, so be it.