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  • The Flenser

The Brooklyn metallic instrumental trio Sannhet make music for subway stations and unlit street corners, not winding hikes and idyllic vistas. Their second LP is rooted in metal but revels in outside influences.

Revisionist feels grander than it is, and bigger than the band that made it. The second album from the metallic Brooklyn instrumental trio Sannhet lasts only nine tracks, or 38 minutes. But its overall density—of emotions and dynamics, of textures and melodies, of strengths and surprises—makes each moment so compelling that the record seems at least twice that length. The album’s brilliant centerpiece, "Empty Harbor", rises from a slow, electrified fusion that suggests ECM in the '80s to a blast beat-backed surge powerful enough to match the best codas of Temporary Residence Ltd. Driven by masterful drummer Christopher Todd, it sounds like a little symphony, both in execution and effect; looking at the clock, however, it’s shocking to find that the song lasts for less than five minutes.

Sannhet have always defied quick taxonomy. They are a byproduct of Brooklyn’s emergent metal scene; Saint Vitus, one of the city’s heavy hubs, issued their 2013 debut LP, Known Flood, which featured a tirade of screams from bar booker David Castillo. Although their new home, The Flenser, is an aggressively eclectic imprint, the core of its catalog remains metal, however soft or mercurial. From the pummeling black-metal drums during the exhilarating climax of "Lost Crown" to the tense rhythmic lock of death metal near the middle of "False Pass", traces of that pedigree populate Revisionist. But AJ Annunziata’s bass distortion during songs like "Enemy Victorian" implies the astral ascendance of space-rock. The same goes for John Refano, a guitarist who likes to widen the band’s sound with layers of background noise perhaps more than he prefers to lead with coiled riffs. There are astutely applied electronics that suggest the abstraction of Touch Music masters like Philip Jeck, and careful but brief drone passages that conjure Kranky. If metal made for the most convenient tag for Known Flood, it is at best an awkward fit for Revisionist, a record that revels and delights in a trove of outsider influences.

American post-rock and post-metal have often offered the scores of wide-open spaces, be they the football fields and Texas hills of Explosions in the Sky’s Friday Night Lights accompaniment or the rivers and valleys of their fellow Lone Star residents Balmorhea. Labradford, Red Sparowes and ISIS suggested settings more vast and hospitable than the cities they called home. But Sannhet take many of those same sweeping, cinematic impulses and apply them to cramped urban landscapes and lifestyles. They begin "Mint Divine" with a sample of voices, which blur into the mind-numbing chatter endemic to busy city streets. The band works to overcome the pervasive din, or to at least carve out a sheltered space within it. Refano and Annunziata deliver a delicate duet, their gentle guitar notes and pulsing bass competing with the hubbub. The voices waft into the next track, "False Pass", but Todd battles them back with his heavy hands and deep, floor-tom thuds. Together, Sannhet finally overpower their environment, finding solace in the solidarity of volume.

This metropolitan sense of setting also explains Sannhet’s concision. Only "Enemy Victorian", the album’s one listless point, breaks the six-minute mark. Otherwise, Sannhet push the parts together, moving at a rate that suggests they’re worried the city will swallow them if they don’t press ahead. "You Thy_" collapses feelings of romance, terror and longing into four breathless minutes, maximizing emotional impact and efficiency all at once. By oscillating between lumbering, loping patterns and sustained blast beats, Todd turns the three-minute "Lost Crown" into a frantic, crazed quest in an unsympathetic environment, where no one else cares if you ever recover your holy grail. Sannhet make music for subway stations and unlit street corners, not winding hikes and idyllic vistas.

If Explosions in the Sky and similar bands create accompaniment for Hollywood productions, Sannhet offer a vivid, real-life counterpoint. There’s no lighting, no scripting, no catering—just the exigencies and anxieties of existence, delivered by a band battling pedestrian frustrations with uncommon focus. Revisionist, turns out, is bigger than its 38 minutes or the trio that made it; these nine songs are as big as whatever life it is they soundtrack.

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