The Body’s “The Crying Out of Things”: A Sonic Exploration of Emotional Extremes

For over two decades, The Body has been a relentless force in expanding the sonic frontiers of heavy music. The duo—comprised of guitarist and vocalist Chip King and electronics and percussion specialist Lee Buford—has consistently defied genre conventions, combining elements of metal, noise, electronic, and experimental music into a singular, unmistakable sound.

Title: The Crying Out of Things
Artist: The Body
Release Date: 2024-11-08
Genres: Experimental Music, Noise Rock
Label: Thrill Jockey
Description: A review of The Body’s latest album, The Crying Out of Things, focusing on its intense noise and experimental soundscapes.

From the very beginning, The Body has been unafraid to incorporate unorthodox elements into their music. This album is no exception, featuring contributions from regular collaborators like vocalist Ben Eberle, horn player Dan Blacksburg, and Felicia Chen.

One of the most striking aspects of The Crying Out of Things is its comprehensive embrace of noise as a multifaceted tool for expression. Unlike many artists who use noise as a blunt instrument, The Body wields noise with surgical precision. Each distortion, feedback loop, and abrasive texture is carefully placed to maximize emotional impact. Buford’s perspective on noise is particularly enlightening: “For us, the key to the way we use noise is that it’s not the only element. It has to have dynamics. We’re trying to cover it all.”

The album plunges listeners into a dark and cavernous atmosphere right from the outset. The opening track, “Last Things,” begins with a brooding soundscape—a sonic whirlpool that evokes memories of JG Thirlwell‘s remix of “Wish” from Nine Inch Nails’ Fixed EP. This introduction, filled with deep percussion and resonant tones, sets the stage for the sonic onslaught that follows. As the track progresses, The Body unleashes aggressive, almost jazz-like bursts of sound, culminating in an infernal maelstrom that showcases their mastery of dynamic shifts and complex arrangements.

“Removal” builds upon the oppressive atmospheres established in the opener. Inhuman screams echo across devastated sonic geography, painted with the band’s abrasive, harsh, and visceral tones. The track could easily be the soundtrack to a surreal, demonic film, showing The Body’s ability to conjure vivid imagery through sound. The album’s title feels particularly apt here, as the music explores themes of anguish and despair.

“Careless and Worn” continues this spectral roaming, presenting a haunting composition that feels like it was performed by a clan of bloodthirsty shamans deep within an ominous forest. The doom-laden atmosphere of slow decay and devastation consumes any remaining resistance from the listener, who becomes a willing participant in The Body’s dark ritual.

After the relentless intensity of the first three tracks, “A Premonition” offers a momentary respite, slowing the pace slightly. Horns and distant screams reverberate through a foggy soundscape, foreshadowing the inevitable onslaught of the next piece. This track is a harbinger of what’s to come, heightening the tension and anticipation.

“Less Meaning” follows, wrapping itself around syncopated rhythms accompanied by the demonic screams that pervade the album and which haunt the unwary listener. These vocals feel like malevolent spirits circling, observing, and instilling fear before descending upon their defenseless prey. 

This odissey though hell is far from over: “The Citadel Unconquered” features slow, ominous tolls ringing out in the darkness of night. The atmosphere is thick with foreboding, immersing the listener deeper into the album’s unsettling world.

“End of Line” continues the exploration of humanity’s darker facets—anger, resentment, suffering. Shrill screams pierce the darkness, eventually being swallowed by the cosmic void. The track embodies the album’s thematic core, confronting raw emotions that often remain hidden beneath the surface.

“The Building” introduces a shift with its more expansive atmospheres, as Felicia Chen’s voice echoes harmonies within The Body’s ether of noise.

Closing the album is “All Worries,” the longest track on the record. This dark and somber piece brings the voyage to a fitting conclusion, leaving the listener enveloped in an atmosphere that “offers no hope to those who enter.” It’s a powerful end to an album that has been unrelenting in its intensity, cementing the lasting impact of the experience.

Matteo Damiani

Matteo Damiani is an Italian photographer and author. Curator of the sites Retrofuturista.com; weirditaly.com; china-underground.com and others