Blanck Mass Benjamin John Power had plenty of inspiration for his succession of albums in the late 2010s and early 2020s. Polarized politics informed 2017s World Eater, while the meshing of grief and consumerism shaped 2019s Animated Violence Mild. On In Ferneaux, Power transforms the loneliness of COVID-19 quarantines and lockdowns into a universal expression of the need for connection. A sonic collage made of field recordings that he captured while touring and traveling the world, the album pieces together memories and experiences in a way that feels equally painful and therapeutic; as a man says at one point on the record, Its how you handle the bitch-ass misery. Though In Ferneauxs themes are of a piece with Blanck Mass previous work, Powers perspective has shifted. If albums like Animated Violence Mild sounded like they were counting down to the end of the world, this one sounds like reflecting on the good and bad times in the wake of the apocalypse. In Ferneauxs pair of lengthy pieces allow Power the room to encompass the harshest and most beautiful sides of his music, and the ambient passages woven throughout buffer these extremes with a newly contemplative feel. On Phase I, he takes listeners from massive heights that recall his music for the 2012 Olympics to what sounds like the clanking of a shipyard to a rippling harp interlude, and the strong sense of movement from each moment to the next emphasizes the albums theme of connection. On Phase II, Power moves from cacophonous noise that harks back to his Fuck Buttons days to eavesdropping on a night on the streets of London before bringing things to a close with a wash of electronic and orchestral instrumentation that echoes his fine score for the film Calm with Horses. In its amorphous flow and stately pace, In Ferneaux is a little less immediate than some of Blanck Mass previous music, but its fully realized, cathartic musical journey is just as powerful. ~ Heather Phares
Rovi