Jeffk – TAR | Album Review

Ironised post-metal inspired by concrete skylines for increasingly grey times; the new album from post-metal trio Jeffk is as cold as the genre’s moniker suggests.

Upon reflecting on the artwork for TAR – the second release from Leipzig’s Jeffk – one may initially assume this may be a warm and welcoming record. After all, it’s a swimming pool – albeit one depleted, yes – but one beneath a glorious summer’s sky. However, upon further reflection, the cracks in this visual guise begin to emerge. The architecture is crumbling and uninviting, the vegetation present is withering; there’s not a single hint of life nor joy to be found. Dispute it’s initial suggestions, it’s an image of callousness and misery, one that perfectly yet subtly introduces this brilliantly dystopian record.

Directly inspired by mankind’s penchant of tarmacking the earth in steel and concrete, TAR is a selection of dystopian soundscapes that mirror our towering defilements of nature. Granted, addressing the topic of industrial progression and natural destruction isn’t exactly a theme unprobed in this genre. One only has to look at work from acts such as Maybeshewill and Red Sparowes to see similar sentiments. But what makes this record so brilliant is how to executes such themes. To draw parallels to the artwork again, it’s a record of subtleness and juxtaposition. Such a topic of natural degeneration is presented upfront and overtly, but with hidden and crucial detail.

Opener and lead single ‘Fingers’ wastes no time in establishing the bleak and concrete tone of the record. As clean fretwork in similarity to that of Sleepmakeswaves gets subdued by thunderous and barbed riffs on par with that of Russian Circles, the track progressively coalescences a sense of foreboding that summits with a rapturous breakdown that transparency – almost overwhelmingly – reflects the march of societal progression that this record portrays. However, the proceeding ‘Arcades’ and ‘Ratio’ is where the record begins to add subtle nuance and experimentation. Across these two tracks, grooves and loops are implemented. Whilst they’re often repressed by the post-metal riffs and general sense of direness that blankets TAR, such inclusions add variety and subtle life to this album.

There’s a definite resemblance to the charismatic chemistry found within the work of El Ten Eleven in these motifs as they continue to blossom over the runtime of TAR. Its a factor that adds a sense of almost subconscious juxtaposition to the predominately grim aura of the record. On the first listen, it’s unlikely one will pick up on such inclusions; it’s only with consequent playthroughs – which this album rewards massively – that such musical embracements only become prominent. Yet these loops, passages of shoegaze and pieces of playful fretwork all weave into the overall texture of the record. From afar, the musical tapestry of this record is grim and grey. But with further inspection threads of vibrancy are revealed, something that forces one to shift their perspective upon looking at the piece as a whole again.

Though with that in mind, the later arc of the record is where Jeffk do seem to hone in the more intricate elements of this record. Whilst ‘Idle Hands’ does present a more prominent focus on swift fretwork, the brilliant ‘Lake Bled’ is where TAR relents. As scenic and broad as the Slovene lake of the same name, the track is seven and half minutes of sweeping riffs, downtuned bass and the looping riffs that shift in texture and shape. It’s not a tender in any way – the sense of brooding density is still prevalent – but the way it’s unionised with the more elaborate and spoiling riffs only adds further credence to Jeffk’s skill in emotionalising and visualising heavy instrumental music.

As the record slams into the bustling and metropolitan closer of ‘Swarm’, it’s hard deny that this is the first great post-metal record of 2023. It may not overtly adapt the formula that those beyond the genre’s boundaries claim to be stale, but what it does do is present just how impactful post-metal can be when utilised as a means of conveying the message. It’s impossible not to mentally visualise towering city blocks upon defiled grassland, commuters swarming where wildlife once swarmed and crumbling artificial pools standing atop life-infested swampland when listening to TAR. Full of blossoms of musical life that contrast against it’s callous density, TAR is a must listen for any fan of the genre or cinematic metal as a whole.