In the early 21st century, the global independent music scene rapidly diversified. The lines between metal, post-rock, noise, electronic, and experimental music became increasingly blurred. Hailing from Tokyo, Japan, the trio Boris was perhaps one of the most difficult bands to categorize in this torrent. They were labeled with various tags like stoner rock, doom metal, and drone, reflecting that their work was never content to be confined to a single genre. Instead, it was more like a series of carefully planned experiments, constantly challenging fans' definitions of sound and music itself.
Within this vast and complex discography, the album "Boris at Last -Feedbacker-," released at the end of 2003, is undoubtedly a milestone. On this album, which contains only a single track lasting over forty minutes, the band elevates "noise" into "narrative." The listening process is not a simple consumption of music but requires patient focus. As notes transform into looping walls of sound and feedback replaces melody as the core, you are forced to confront not just the sound itself, but the most primitive and pure transformation between music, body, and time.
The album was released in December 2003 by the Japanese label Diwphalanx, following their June release "Akuma no Uta," a work inspired by the classic Nick Drake album cover that showcased the band's fusion of metal and psychedelic elements. "Feedbacker," however, pushed towards a more extreme expression both visually and sonically. The cover, featuring guitarist Wata lying in a pool of blood, creates a disturbing image of death and foreshadows the long and intense sonic journey within the album.
It is worth noting that "Feedbacker" is labeled as a single track on the back of the CD, but the record is actually divided into five parts. Each part flows smoothly into the next, appearing as both coherent chapters and five interconnected scenes. This design continues the band's understanding of the album as a holistic work of art. Upon its release, it not only influenced the future development and use of post-rock and drone but also prompted more listeners to rethink the boundary between "music" and "noise."
The first movement of the album begins with almost no clear melody, unfolding slowly from a faint electronic hum. Distortion seeps into the space like a gentle fog. Simple guitar strums are amplified by layers of echo and feedback noise, forming an undulating wall of sound. This is not pure noise but a directional build-up, like being trapped in a room of interwoven electrical currents. This extended period of gestation is not just an opening but a form of psychological preparation, demanding that the listener abandon normal expectations of rhythm and melody and enter a state completely dominated by sound.
As you gradually become accustomed to the ambient feedback, the guitar melody of the second movement quietly enters, intertwining with the residual noise to create a strange harmony. At first glance, the drumming seems simple and basic, but a closer listen reveals various snare fills and subtle cymbal work. The atmosphere is reminiscent of their collaboration with noise emperor Merzbow on "Sun Baked Snow Cave" a few years later, but here Boris leans more towards a sense of improvisational freedom.
As the section progresses, the melody gradually merges with the distortion, and the sound becomes thick and dreamlike. The music truly enters the next level. The razor-sharp guitar is almost a signature of Boris, and guitarist Wata's melodic performance is as strong as ever. The greatness of this solo lies in the emotion it contains and Wata's near-perfect control over feedback and distortion. The instrument here becomes a tool of expression, even more expressive than the vocals that follow.
The third part is the most sensory-bombarding moment of the entire piece. Drummer Atsuo shatters the preceding calm with explosive rhythms, while the heavy bassline provides a solid foundation. The guitar explodes and spreads through feedback, exhibiting a strong stoner rock atmosphere. Here, one can clearly hear the more complete prototypes of what would become "Pink" and "Smile": chaotic yet controlled, messy yet still melodic. After plunging into an abyss, a brief moment of ecstasy arrives, allowing you to directly feel the impact of music as a force, not just an accumulation of sounds.
After the ferocity of the third movement, the fourth part presents a more intense yet abstract challenge. Dense feedback and static hissing sounds surge like a tsunami, creating a suffocating climax. A faintly audible bassline still exists but is compressed beneath the heavy layer of noise. This section comes closest to so-called noise music, but Boris always manages to leave clues to hold onto within the disorder: perhaps a resonant note, perhaps a low vibration. These details keep the listener focused amidst the unease, as if there are still points of light flickering in a dark abyss.
The final chapter is the album's conclusion. After experiencing madness and the abyss, the music returns to a calmer rhythm. Gentle drumming and simple chord progressions echo the clarity of the second part. However, even in this return to "calm," the continuous, sharp drone never disappears, like a shadow reminding you of the traces left by the entire journey. As the volume gradually fades, only the solitary "feedback" is left, dissipating layer by layer. At this moment, you realize you have completed a long sonic experience.
The stark transitions between the sections of "Feedbacker" echo how various branches of rock and metal diverge from yet still share a close kinship and origin. At first glance, you often can't see the connection between two different musical styles, and the same is true for Boris here. From sustained electronic noise to delicate acoustic guitar notes, to roaring distorted heavy blows, they seem loose and free. However, all these fragments and styles originate from various unique influences, ultimately combining to form this three-headed beast.
Therefore, they offer a freedom that is liberated from liberation itself, a deconstruction and reconstruction of ideals. It is a roar, an eternal, unyielding wall of brutal noise that completely engulfs you, ultimately calming your mind to accept everything, even if only for that one perfect, golden moment. This is Boris. Pure music, without posture, without a scene, without any connection that could possibly tarnish it. The music is completely detached from the world, yet utterly worldly. This is rock and roll.
