Greetings, you restless seekers of the Black Metal Archives—Sean here, still tangled in the somber threads of Silaera’s Adrift. I cranked this tonight, and it’s like Chicago’s urban sprawl exhaled a cloud of gloom that settled over me. Stumbled onto this one-man shadow lurking on Bandcamp, released May 31, 2024, and its three tracks tug at me like a cold wind off Lake Michigan—let’s dive into this stark current!
Silaera took shape in Chicago, Illinois, the lone work of L.A., who handles all instruments and vocals. Adrift is his debut, a self-released murmur of atmospheric despair rising from the city’s concrete veins.
“Under a Starless Sky” slips in like a fog over the skyline—guitars hum with a muted, mournful sheen, L.A.’s voice a low wail threading through the dusk. The drums beat soft and steady—I’m hooked, leaning into its subtle pull.
“Nothing Is a Paradise” stretches out, riffs rolling like waves against rusted piers, his vocals a faint cry that cuts the haze—my spine tingles, caught in its lonely depth.
“Endless Journey” unfurls like a road with no end, guitars tracing a thin, aching path, L.A.’s howls dissolving into the night. It’s a standout that presses down on me, heavy with its quiet drift—I’m left staring out, gripped by its pull.
Silaera’s sound is a city-bred void—L.A.’s guitars spin a web of soft, bleak tones, his bass a steady pulse beneath the gray. The drums tap like rain on pavement, and his vocals are the soul unmoored, raw yet restrained. In black metal’s wide expanse, this nods to Xasthur’s urban desolation and Early Leviathan’s introspective chill, but with a lean, windswept edge that feels born of Chicago’s sprawl. Adrift is a subtle haunt—crank it, let it wash over you, and join me in this concrete haze.
You wayward souls, hit the comments with your take—how did this album draw you in? Stream it on Bandcamp and let it linger!
RATING: 5 OUT OF 5
