Was it already four years ago when Rain To Rust released their impressive debut album, “Flowers Of Doubt?” At the time, I was more than impressed with Mert Yildiz’ mastery of the playing and recording process as merely his guitar playing was compelling to the ear; never mind the singing, synths, and the engineering and recording of the music. Near the conclusion of my review, I wondered if he was going to move next in a more commercial if not outright dance oriented direction. I’m happy to state that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The occasional dance beat was not the thread that I should have been paying attention to. The direction to follow was “No Longer Human;” the song based on the posthumous novel by Osamu Dazai who had committed suicide before its publication. While much of the first album was steeped in dark, difficult emotions that lead to depression and forms of self-destruction, the second Rain To Rust album is eight more songs all touched by the musicians and writers who took self-destruction to its ultimate expression. Adrian Borland. Ian Curtis. Yukio Mishima.

Rain To Rust: Martyrdom – Eight Exercises – SWISS – CD [2023]

1. Tonight I Will Meet My Friends Who Died Untimely
2. Cutting Moments
3. The Killing Room
4. Sleep And Death Are Brothers
5. The Patriot
6. Letterfrack Penal Colony
7. The Big Dive
8. And The Ravens Left The Tower

Pounding motorik beats over a minor key melody being driven by acoustic rhythm guitar was the basis of “Tonight I Will Meet My Friend Who Died Untimely.” The acoustic flourishes strummed over the top of it were not what I was expecting, but thinking that guitarist Yildiz was interested in exploring the terrain that John McGeoch had established with his sterling work in both Magazine and imperial period Siouxsie + the banshees, this all made perfect sense to hear in that context.

The propulsive urgency of the beat had been selected to echo the train by which the song’s inspiration, Adrian Borland [The Sound] had ended his life with. The acoustics mated the rococo sound that Siouxsie had employed on “Christine” with Krautrock ethos to build a crepuscular mood that was restrained, yet indefatigable.

The rhythms were more complex on the following “Cutting Moments,” but they they were still employed in a loop while the melody was carried on a mournful piano. But the piano gave way to ambient dissonance as vocalist Özüm Özgülgen recited the lyrics in a sprechgesang delivery. Eventually ceding the space in the song to the piano in the relentless song’s coda as the elements of the mix dropped out to leave the last word to the underlying drone.

This high drama of “The Killing Room,” inspired by Ian Curtis, was pregnant with high drama in the implacable thunderbeats overlaid with choral patches and wintry piano. The unremitting tension finally undercut by the sound of broken glass in the coda, leaving Yildiz’ spoke words and the synth drone locked in a fatal dance as sound bites of Phil Shankland speaking on the issue of suicide provided a final word.

After three tracks heavy on piano and atmospherics, “Sleep And Death Are Brothers” finally unleashed the twin krakens of Yildiz’ guitars and Ertan Aslan’s tarpit bass. It felt good to have a sense of the great playing that had thus far been absent in the album. The tight rhythm riffing cutting a serrated path through the song and was matched by the effects on Yildiz’ vocals. Leaving them slurred and distorted while the guitar did the talking.

The second half of the album would take its remit from writers who had taken their own lives. “The Patriot” actually managed to best “Death + Night + Blood” [The Stranglers] as my favorite song inspired by Mishima. Aslan’s bass was ever ready to pull the listener under the waterline at all times. Yildiz affected a phrasing new to these ears; coming close to the feel of Julian Cope from his Teardrop Explodes period. Water torture beats formed a merciless loop as crystalline piano contrasted beautifully with the deep bass vibe and choral patches. Sound bites from Mishima himself added context to the dark beauty of it all.

The assiduous rhythm pattern of “Letterfrack Penal Colony” suggested an unholy blend of “Flowers Of Romance” era PiL with “JuJu” era Banshees. Music for plunging into the abyss, which was a largely instrumental tone poem based on Peter Tyrell’s traumatic childhood. After that corrosive song, the the casual loping insouciance of “The Big Dive” was almost enough to make one forget that this was a thematic album based on suicide. In this song Yildiz had managed to paradoxically find the approximation of a dreamy love ballad within the death of writer Osamu Dazai and his girlfriend.

The closing piece, “And Then The Ravens Left The Tower [Howard’s Dream]” was inspired by the friendship between H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard where Howard comes in death to Lovecraft’s dream and tells him that they will soon be united in death. With Matt Loftin’s spoken word performance of the dream eventually subsuming the sustained drone chords of the track as the speech fractalized into multi-crystalline fragments of chaotic reverb as the piece ultimately broke down.

The album was not at all what I was expecting. For an accomplished guitar/bass unit such as Rain To Rust, the lack of reliance on these strengths of playing, called out to the spirit of experimentation that was at the core of “Martyrdom.” This album reminded me of the rigor that Bill Nelson brought to his late 70s-early 80s work where he deliberately eschewed guitar to see what he could accomplish without his pillar of strength.

The material was certainly intriguing for it and while I can accept the lack of guitars, there was one other factor that concerned me; namely the tendency to bury the vocals into the mix; sometimes in perversely obscure ways that were deliberate obfuscation. I like Mert’s approach to vocals and really, only on “The Patriot” and “The Big Dive” were they readily discernible in the mix. Given the morose thematic impetus for the album, perhaps that was a small mercy, though.

For an album that has congealed around the suicides of a handful of musicians and writers, it doesn’t have what I would call an impenetrable funereal pall cast over it. There’s too much vigor in the pacing and tempos of the songs. With nothing too plodding and quite a few songs possessing highly energetic, Krautrock-derived rhythms. And ultimately, this balance makes for a compelling listen, even for subject matter as stygian as this.

Going forward, I will admit that I would like to hear more of the powerful bass, guitar, and vocals that Rain To Rust are very capable of contributing. This album was almost them tying one hand behind their backs to see how it would turn out. That it did as successfully as it did, was cause for [black] celebration. And this time, the album is available not only as a DL but the band were signed to Swiss Dark Night Records, who have pressed up 500 glass mastered CDs for purchase. I’m thrilled and amazed that there are still concerns that will do this in 2023. The DL is €12.00 but the physical CD is only €14.00. Mr D.J. hit that button.

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