Listen to “Of Salt And Water” right here.
Not much chaotic as it is eclectic, Stagnant Waters will storm through your speakers like untamed and dangerous animals. You might only care for the tigers and rhinos, but if you listen closer you’ll be able to see the peacocks and butterflies of this wonderfully diverse zoo.
Indeed, between harsh, heavy parts, there are some electronic passages and truly undecipherable moments.
When does a song end? Is it when the player has stopped playing it? Or is it when you’ve understood all that was going on in the song? If you choose the latter, then this album is eternal, infinite.
Stagnant Waters are one of the few bands out there believing in noise as music, because many, many (too many) people will label this as “fucking noise”, sadly.
One of the strong points of this album is that you don’t know what to expect. There is no notion of build-up, nothing I could call a structure, but it all serves a purpose. Whether it be creating something new or mesmerizing the listener I could not tell, and it is not my duty to.
Every one of us must find the purpose in listening to this album, and that’s what’s interesting. To some, this task will be tantalizing. To others, it will be daunting, and to most, it will be frightening… And too few are tempted to defy their fears.
To the handful who will listen, appreciate, and understand Stagnant Waters, it will be a memorable experience. One which will mostly not fade over time, and one which will be remembered whenever a discussion about weird music and/or mind-blowing albums will pop up.
Plus, the packaging is excellent, and innovative. You get an oversized matte booklet, and the CD in a separate paper envelope. All in black and white.
Stagnant Waters will make you shit your pants and get a brilliant 100% for doing so.