Wren – Black Rain Falls | Album Review

Over a decade of toil sees Wren architect a masterful creation of disgusting noise, grit and murky music.

Wren have been omnipresent within the UK’s underground for over a decade and forever revel in their construction of bleak desolation. Black Rain Falls sees them present a lean cut of Premier League post-metal fluent in noise rock dragged straight from the earths core.

At just 36 minutes, Black Rain Falls is considered svelte by post-metal definition and Wren use this smaller window to create razor sharp tension and execute payoffs of sheer dread. It’s an uncompromising and near faultless listen, as every second is tethered together in a haunting tandem to drag the listener through this sermon of grief. Beginning with ‘Flowers of Earth’ a leviathan is awakened after 5 years since last LP Groundswell as they shake off of the slumber and begin to motion again. It has weight and is finely tuned for all of its 8 minutes and the simplicity in the pacing to summon tension as it tip toes with the bass of Mark Lotz being a pillar of the album’s construction as it binds you with a satisfying crunch. The suspension is an art which few master, but you feel Wren are taking atmospheric influence from the likes Amenra in making every detail matter, every piece of gloom is carefully introduced and embalmed in darkness for the most effective result.

A dramatic change of pace comes with ‘Betrayal of Self’ which bolts from the opening as the rolling thunder of drummer Seb Tull sets a menacing stall out for vocalist Owen Jones to howl like peak Aaron Turner with real grit in the throat. Just as the heart rate of the album increases we hit our interlude in ‘Cerebral Drift’ which is a short and sweet dust settler on what feels like emphatic first act.

Their ability to slip into a noise rock outfit is an identity defining characteristic of the band as Wren show us greater emotional depth in the albums second half with a more melancholic approach. The vocals becoming more desperate and guitars shedding the mechanical shell to show some delicacy. The album is cantering along with the fuzz and precision of Kowloon Walled City, and it prevents it from falling away into a vacuum, you get all the impact of great post-metal without having to test your patience to the extreme.

Album highlight ‘Scored Hinds’ wields an axe, swinging mercilessly with barked narration between Chris Pickerings apocalyptic guitar contributions. It emphatically releases all the tension built up across the albums lengths to feel like a true reflection of shared grief. A tortuous finale to this excellent sonic spectacle which producer Scott Evans has excelled in creating, as every warble and crackle is felt and maximised to create such an unforgiving affair.

Fans who live between the holy trinity of Roadburn, Damnation and ArcTanGent this is music which feels home at all three, music of visceral fear taking your consciousness to the edge of its understanding. To be able to carry the weight of Cult of Luna sized post-metal with the dissonant simplicity of their noise rock influence in a package of 36 minutes is a feat destined to catapult them into an undeniable force in heavy music and cast a shadow which will become impossible to ignore.