Apparently, late November is the time for The Silent Ballet to review epic, monstrous releases, as evidenced by Jeremy Bye’s review of Leyland Kirby latest album, another Bye review of the Warp20 box, and my draw of Natural Snow Buildings. One marked difference between the NSB and Kirby releases is that, while reviewed as one entity, Kirby’s album is actually three installments crunched together. Shadow Kingdom, on the other hand, is a singular release (2xCD or 3xLP) of mammoth proportions; it clocks in at two hours and thirty-six minutes over sixteen tracks. Now, I have often been a fan of longer albums where an artist is allowed room to stretch out and really blossom, but this is a bit ridiculous, especially considering that half of the tracks are ten or more minutes long and three of those sprint past the twenty-minute mark.

Shadow Kingdom (named for the first book in Robert E. Howard’s Kull series of sword and sorcery works) starts out with a lengthy test in patience and perseverance ironically titled “The Fall of Shadow Kingdom.” This twenty-three-minute descent into Hell through feedback loops and howls eventually opens up into a restful, folk-ish repose for the last minute and a half. Immediately following is “Gorgon,” which belies the dark mythology of its title with a soft, comforting, static-laden female vocal meditation over guitar, harp, and various other strings. “Gorgon” borders on haunting, but harbors a sense of long unrequited affection too clear to be spooky.

The female vocals remain the central strength of this release, as they anchor the next few tracks from drifting off into a nearly endless storm of sub-par drones and exhaustive sonic meanderings. On “For Fear They May Come Back/Children of the Seventh Circle/The Dark Road” (a song title to rival Set Fire To Flames!), piano leads a string-heavy lament. Yet, in the last movement, a wood nymph’s eerily pretty vocals combine with a wavering synth drone; the song’s wandering is redeemed by discovering such a voice and direction. In maintaining focus on Shadow Kingdom’s cardinal strength, “Salty Tongue” is by far the best song—there are a few among the massive drone passages—with Solange Gularte’s vocals bringing warmth to a cold, rainy Autumn day. In fact, Gularte’s siren is reminiscent of Grouper’s vocals from last year’s release. Hilariously enough, I heap this praise upon the vocals of “Salty Tongue,” but the vocals don’t even show up until there are only a minute and fourteen seconds left in the song! Still, they are a fitting musical climax. “The Faceless” rivals “Salty Tongue” for its simplicity and cathartic potentialities; both songs have a sparse, heartfelt use of guitar, piano, and even melodica, but “Salty Tongue” wins my affections for the delicate inclusion of sitar without pulling some cheap George Harrison rip-off or trying too hard to step outside of the Western music style. The album does, however, have an old-world feel.

It may be that I am influenced by song titles inspired by mythology and fantasy literature, but Shadow Kingdom sounds like a perfect soundtrack for playing countless hours of World of Warcraft. Now, I don’t personally play WoW, but the folky witchcraft of this album conjures memories of playing Dungeons & Dragons as a kid. With this side to the album, the best comparison I can offer is some Wooden Wand & the Vanishing Voice. However, the other side of this lengthy endeavor furnishes listeners with mostly sub-par, standard Eluvium-type drones. This leads me to further argue that Natural Snow Buildings might have been better served by splitting this beast of a release into two separate ones. One release could shine with the folk-driven séances that highlight Gularte’s vocals and the other could sink to the depths and darkness by focusing on drone and experimental musical geography. Seriously, a release like this is a little too self-serving for the artist and potentially punishing for listeners (give ‘em a break! they already had to sit through Leyland Kirby’s 3-disc giant).

In closing, I’d like to offer a little metaphor for what this listening experience can be like: Listening to Shadow Kingdom is like forcing a short-distance runner to try and conquer a marathon with minimal preparation time. It really is important to be aware of your own artistic boundaries, even while simultaneously working to break many others.

-Gabriel Bogart