Band:	Isis
Album:	Celestial
Style:	Post-metal, Atmospheric sludge metal
Release date:	April 03, 2000
Guest review by:	Netzach

01. Sgnl>01
02. Celestial (The Tower)
03. Glisten
04. Swarm Reigns (Down)
05. Sgnl>02
06. Deconstructing Towers
07. Sgnl>03
08. Collapse And Crush
09. C.F.T. (New Circuitry And Continued Evolution)
10. Gentle Time
11. SGNL>04 (End Transmission)

"Remit. Remit the signal. The flood is coming down."

Boom. A single mistake. A single misconstruction causing a single spark to ignite the whole structure. Fire and light, and then... Quiet. No thoughts, no present mind. Only the cold, dark embrace of the approaching event horizon.

"The individual will drifts into space and the signal fills its void."

Closer to the edge now. Feet sinking faster than body. A peculiar sensation, almost interesting had the mind not been overwhelmed by the sheer existential terror of falling into the unknown. Faster and faster, into the singularity and then... Light. A single light, watching us all. But why? The answers come quicker than anyone could analyze in this situation and then finally... I am we and we are no more.

"The eyes of greater size than all the oceans. Do you ever get that feeling that you're sinking? I do."

These are the images conjured by "Celestial (The Tower)." Everything a contradiction. From the utmost darkness is born the brightest light and it watches our every move. Lyrics are all over the place but like the music they contribute to a feeling rather than a cohesive story or theme unlike later Isis albums such as Oceanic and Panopticon.

The music fits the lyrics perfectly. Industrial Godflesh-riffs bring us closer to the black hole before breaking down into a funeral of resistance. The inevitable truth has become accepted: we will never get out of here alive. And this is just the first track.

Paranoia. Surveillance. Futility. Metaphysical terror. Void of purpose. Absence of free will. Sinking into gravity-distorted space-time like quicksand. Black holes without revelations. The synthesis of man and machine. It is hard to pinpoint the messages in these chopped-off madman's ruminations.

Like the lyrics, the songs feel like the constant twitchings and turnings of a bad mushroom trip. Unknowing gives way to paranoia gives way to anger gives way to hopelessness gives way to a glimpse of Nirvana which just makes the darkness even more palpable when it returns. And the darkness always returns. Most likely through improbably thick riffs punctuated by Aaron Turner's hoarse screams.

"We became parts of a greater whole. The black hole sees a light..."

Turner's words creep up my spine even as I type this. And if I just barely know what I'm doing, you should feel about the same right now. What could he possibly have seen, and what is he trying to tell us? We will never know for sure. What is sure, however, is that Celestial is a heavy, abrasive and at the same time strangely beautiful little quark of an album. What it might lack in direction it more than well makes up for in conviction. And if Isis are to be believed, we are all convicted and confined in this universe, with large glaring eyes observing and judging our every action. Celestial needs to be played loud and, optimally, in outer space. While falling into a black hole. Again and again until the truth is found.