Deafheaven celebrated their first decade as a band with
10 Years Gone, a powerful live-in-studio set that included material from throughout the group's career, demonstrating the remarkable amount of progress they've made during that time. As it turns out, the release was intended to close out the first era of the band, as the material they had started working on during 2019 was taking a much different shape than any of their past work.
Infinite Granite is a major sonic departure from a group who were previously inextricable from the term blackgaze, particularly after the success of 2013's astounding
Sunbather. For much of the album, there's only scant traces of black metal influences -- instead of harsh riffs, pummeling blast beats, and cathartic screaming, there's airy guitars, spacious drumming, and clean, patient singing.
Justin Meldal-Johnsen's production gives it a vibrant sheen, but it's decidedly closer to a dream pop record than something likely to receive airplay on mainstream rock stations, and there's still a dark undercurrent to its autumnal mood.
Deafheaven have mentioned
Radiohead,
Ride,
Tears for Fears, and even
Nina Simone as direct inspirations, and the record additionally has somewhat of an alternative prog sound to it, recalling elements of
Smashing Pumpkins and
Porcupine Tree. "In Blur" is filled with rippling, ringing guitars that bathe the listener in light before surging near the song's end, and lead singer George Clarke has a bit of a
Corgan-esque snarl to his voice. "Great Mass of Color" combines the drive of anthemic alt-rock with gauzy, atmospheric guitars, to refreshing effect, then switches things up with trickier drumming during the breakdown and a rush of fury during the outro, with some blurry screaming buried in the mix. The gorgeous drone interlude "Neptune Raining Diamonds" is clearly intended as the album's "Treefingers," and its hazy, fluttering arpeggios segue into the chiming, dreamy "Lament for Wasps" with ease. "Villain" and "Other Language" both have breezy, driving rhythms that end up at metallic climaxes, while "The Gnashing" has more of an urgent rush before it lands at a tumultuous final section. For a band that's clearly trying to make a leap toward more pop-oriented songwriting, their hooks aren't as obvious or immediate as they could be, and the album overall still seems to be more about texture and feeling rather than earworm-worthy melodies.
Infinite Granite is a transitional record, but it's an enormously pretty one, and it suggests that their directional shift is an excellent idea that warrants further exploration. ~ Paul Simpson