Will music exist after the apocalypse? Well, music will never die, yes. But what will it be like? Vampire Liver Therapy might know.
He is John Cumsille, a Chilean Electronic music mastermind with a very particular brand, that I’m tempted to dub Apocalyptic Rock, or if he might prefer… Transhuman Rock. This album is ‘Low-Resolution Entity’. Part 1 of a double album experience. The album deals primarily with Transhumanism, a philosophical and intellectual concept that proposes that humans can develop beyond their current physical and natural limitations, especially via the means of scientific progress. This concept can conjure into the listener’s mind one of only two images, one is of a prosperous future where humans beat cancer and defeat aging and are granted long painless lives. The other is of a barren wasteland where humans have turned feral in their endless pursuit of more power. If you’re normal, both images will equally freak you out… in very different ways.
The genius here is how Cumsille perfectly crafts those monuments of sound that are equally horrifying and awe-inspiring (in the way post-modern discoveries and inventions like Neuralink can be awe-inspiring). Thick, hammering, unsettling pieces of industrial/alt-metal. Unflattering and relentless. The drums are perpetually distorted and heavy-handed, brutally compressed. The music is almost entirely composed of rhythmic synth stabs, entirely devoid of color and beauty. Perhaps the most memorable aspect of those pieces though is the voice. John Cumsille howls over the 12 songs like a depraved maniac (with all due respect)… Singing bone-chilling narratives and haunting lines in the most tortured and twisted manner, truly conveying the image of humans, post-humanity.
The twelve-song journey wasn’t an easy or a swift one. Full of disturbing lines, sounds, and vibes. I can’t say I especially enjoyed it, personally. So, naturally, I won’t suggest that it’s for anybody to enjoy. But on the other hand, no one will be able to deny the genius behind this collection of sounds. The genius in conveying an image as purely as it is conveyed here. The genius in jettisoning beauty and color in favor of loud clangs, sheets of rough, unpolished metal and deranged howls. One might feel concerned for John Cumsille after listening to these songs, but I will argue that if he deals with his day-to-day life with as much lucidity as is portrayed on this album, then he’s totally and completely fine.