RIVERSIDE

Facing the future, the Poles reconvene for album seven.

Riverside’s last album, 2016’s Eye Of The Soundscape, provided a glimmer of light in their annus horribilis. Emerging nine months after the sudden death of guitarist Piotr Grudzin´ski, it was a hybrid of old and new songs that put the band’s electronic and ambient leanings front and centre. It served two purposes: to prove to fans and band alike that they still had a future in the wake of such a devastating tragedy, and to show that the future might sound very different to their past.

The former notion still stands, but the latter proved a red herring. The Polish band’s seventh album is a retreat of sorts to their regular sound, albeit a darker take on it. But at the same time it’s the sound of a band who have been through the darkest times imaginable and come out the other side, stronger and more determined to embrace what they have.

There’s a post-apocalyptic concept at the heart of Wasteland, albeit one that’s more The Road than Mad Max – an all-too-real story of very human terror. Its nine songs are loaded with bleak imagery of global warming and senseless war, from the fallout shelters and ‘gardens of Eden burning above’ of doom-laden intro piece The Day After to the sound of gunfire and cries of death on Guardian Angel. Scratch the surface and you’ll find a reservoir of anger – an anger that’s aimed at the stupidity of humanity and at a world that’s cruelly robbed them of a friend.

Musically, Wasteland is no less turbulent. Across its nine tracks, frontman and songwriter Mariusz Duda strikes a balance between cohesion and surprise. Vale Of Tears is carried on a bullish, quasi-industrial riff that suddenly gives way to a pastoral chorus. The ominous Acid Rain transforms completely halfway through, its churning atmosphere giving way to a billowing and expansive second half. The twisting eight-minute title track combines a spaghetti western twang with subtly stirring harmonies.

The album – and the story – ends with one of the most remarkable songs Riverside have written, and one that finally unlocks Wasteland. The Night Before is a plaintive, Ludovico Einaudi-styled piano ballad whose stark simplicity masks a torrent of emotion. ‘The former world shall not return,’ whispers Duda at one point, ‘but we’ll survive intact again.’

In the context of the story, he’s singing it as a parent to a child, but the true intent slowly dawns: it’s about Riverside themselves. It’s an emotional sucker punch that lays you out flat, but provides a flash of hope at the same time – for us and for them. After all they’ve been through, no one can begrudge them that.

AN EMOTIONAL SUCKER PUNCH, BUT ONE THAT PROVIDES HOPE.