by Andrew Ciardella (@worstsumo)
It's late 2019 at Princeton, NJ radio station WPRB. In a room adjacent to the station's broadcasting studio as well as the stacks of records collected over the many decades of WPRB's existence was an empty studio, which for the night acted as a makeshift venue. The bill consisted of a few tri-state area noise artists, with the headliner being the prolific industrial-leaning Dreamcrusher. Preceding them that night was Sunk Heaven, the project of New York-based Austin Sley-Julian. Although this was my first experience with their music, it was quite unforgettable. In Sley-Julian's hand the whole performance was his noise-making weapon of choice: what seemed to be a microphone, a hand saw, and a flashlight duct taped together. He wielded this instrument expressively, giving an energetically mesmerizing performance. I will honestly admit that I cannot remember much from that night other than Sunk Heaven’s set, mostly because of how well he performed.
Cut to 2021, and after a few Bandcamp-only EP releases in 2020, THE FVCKHEAѫTED LVNG is the latest full-length studio album from Sunk Heaven. Standing at around 38 minutes, this release breezes by considering how layered and intricate it feels. Pulling from industrial, no-wave, and even occasionally IDM and harsh noise, this release never stays in the corner of one particular sub-genre. Even dynamically, this record has moments that go from booming techno beats, like on the opener “Fortitude,” to more drawn out and dramatic pieces like “A Nameless Influence”. Sley-Julian never stays static, and his consistency doing so is something to behold.
Despite its often abrasive textures, THE FVCKHEAѫTED LVNG's sounds are delicately produced. No frequency range on the spectrum is left untouched. The bass drum sounds pound clearly, synth pads ring out warmly, and high-frequency meadows of noise are perfectly ear-ringing. Even when fuzz is drenched onto some of these sounds, they effortlessly avoid being one-dimensional due to the expansive sound and meticulous mixing. In addition to that, each song feels instrumentally fleshed out to their fullest potential without being overwhelmingly dense. Best exhibiting these characteristics is “Phoenix”, which provides a shower of sonic satisfaction. A thumping, slow-paced yet steady tom rhythm opens up the track, as repetitive low-pitched flutters and mechanical bird-like chirps rotate around the instrumental. In the center are the vocals of Rachael Ulhir, which provide an operatic swoop of hauntingly heavenly tones that fit well next to contemporary classical and industrial noise blenders like Lingua Ignota.
Another highlight is undoubtedly “Motiv Turmoil”. The beat shuffles, skitters, and pulses as atomic bombs of noise are dropped throughout. These fuzzy and warbly passages truly show off Sunk Heaven’s skill at sound design. It lands somewhere between sci-fi horror sound effects and the rumble of heavy machinery, all clashing to create a psychedelic burst of cathartic noise. Atop of it are Sley-Julian’s heavily effected vocals, which yell out the lyrics as if a robot is trying to break away from its metallic frame and reach for sentience. It’s detailed moments like these that make a record built around moody, angular, and distorted sounds such a pleasure to listen to.
From the Bandcamp liner notes, we see how the concept of dormancy influenced the album. He even offers up imagery, like lungfish or cicadas, who lie dormant until nature allows them to be liberated. Nearly every aspect of Sunk Heaven reinforces the idea of breaking free from inactivity. It stylistically pushes boundaries, sonically reaches wide and is passionately performed. Dark, unsettling, but ultimately satisfying, Sunk Heaven gives us a new gem of the experimental underground.