KYOTY - Isolation (2022)

Music is, by and large, striving to express something – some emotion, a thought or an experience. New Hampshire’s instrumental post-metal duo KYOTY bathe listeners in vast, open soundscapes, but with their second album Isolation they channel an experience much more introspective and personal. Crafted over the two years of the pandemic with a song released each week once the album was complete until their stay-at-home order was lifted, it’s very much a product of that time; monolithic, sludgy guitars feel claustrophobic, as do the industrial influences that seep in around the sides.

Being an instrumental album, Isolation seeks to suffuse listeners with its emotional weight and introspection by atmosphere alone, with no lyrics to dictate the flow or the story. Instead, it feels remarkably free-flowing for such a heavy, sludge-laden album. Passages flow loosely into one another, gradually building to crescendos or ebbing and flowing. Opening the album, Quarantine blasts with a shock of heavily distorted guitar and drum patterns that disorient before settling into a slow tempo reminiscent of the NOLA sludge scene in its abrasive, gloomy tone. The solitary melody lines that wind throughout sit alongside the repeating riffs; the effect may be intended as trancelike but ultimately it’s a little wearing and they drag for longer than necessary – perhaps an accidental commentary on how some have felt around quarantine measures.

Ventilate and Onus continue KYOTY’s war of attrition, the downtuned sludge offering no respite or way out. There’s a distinct feeling of hopelessness, especially in the mechanical Ventilate that does sound for all the world like a malfunctioning ventilator in its opening minutes. There’s a brief glimmer of hope before the roiling churn takes hold during Onus, once more subsuming the listener. However, at this point it’s 20 minutes into a 70-minute record and it doesn’t feel particularly as if there’s much more to say. Holter recalls the glitchy, industrialised moments of Ventilate but it’s a mere two tracks later; Languish ultimately does what its name suggests, and while an ambient opening may have been effective elsewhere, there’s not enough emotional variety or tonal variety, despite the varying number of textures the band throw, to paint a particularly interesting sonic palette.

Faith does go some way to restoring its namesake; captivating, rolling drums sit under echoing, meditative guitars as the song ruminates seemingly on the nature of existence and faith itself. Eerie melody lines wind throughout, and it’s not entirely clear whether they’re guitars, synths or even occasionally a theremin. It’s testament to their creativity even when confined at home that something that sounds spacious can be produced when the environment is anything but. Its crescendo towards the ten-minute mark is astonishing and uplifting, marking something of a first for such a bleak album.

Unfortunately the back half of the album repeats many of the sins of the first; while the ideas and execution are certainly there, there’s simply not quite enough to fill the 70 minutes without attention being drawn elsewhere or it becoming background music. That feels a shame, given the care and hardship that went into crafting Isolation. Ultimately, KYOTY aim high and fall a little short of the mark, but not for lack of trying. Isolation is a solid post metal record, but it’s not quite enough to truly stand out.