Why do space and the darkness of the ocean evoke the same feelings? One an endless void of nothingness while the other full of life and debris. Both dark places completely inappropriate for humanity, and yet we insist on venturing in to uncover their mysteries regardless.
That's the sense that dXI's Submerged evokes. A concept album about a journey to the bottom of the ocean and back again, a space-age dive into the watery abyss.
The album starts out with Into the Deep's fairly simple four-chord loop. It's quite misleading, as in those first few moments I was a little concerned that this album was going to end up feeling quite basic. But it slowly morphs, those four chords developing a rhythm of their own, eventually building into a gallop as the track progresses. It pulses and it throbs and there's a feeling of real anxiety until it eventually calms down. It felt like it was building to something that it never quite hit, but the journey was engaging nonetheless.
As the album continues to descend, its fascination with sound, resonate frequencies, and discordant arpeggios become more readily apparent. Squelching synths that alternate between playfulness and malevolence in a heart beat.
Its second half, as implied by the album's description, is a lot lighter, with Ascent in particular being a real highlight. As the alien arpeggios swirl, those big synth chords feel like giant sea creatures floating above you, barely acknowledging your existence. The album closes with Rebirth, whose organ feels almost as if the listener has ascended not just up to the surface but straight into heaven itself.
It's all a great listen. There's one or two tracks that maybe outstay their welcome a little bit, but it's certainly successful in feeling like you're on a journey.