Imagine that the only way to see a mysterious film is to descend to an underground bunker, empty since the Second World War. The lights go out, the sounds emerge, the images flash before your eyes. As you leave, you are given a cassette. No one else will ever have this cassette. No one will be able to find the film online, only snippets. If not for the tape, you would think it a dream. Now you play the tape back. Is this what you heard? Is this exactly what you heard? Or are strange voices, occult shadows toying with the machinery? Was something recorded beneath the recording, then partially erased? You return to the bunker, drawn by forces beyond your control. But the band has left. The screen has been taken down. Only discarded scraps remain: a ticket stub, wedged in concrete. The splinter of a still.
This really happened, and only 100 people experienced it. An aural footprint remains on Soundcloud, but for how long? Nobody knows for sure. Kneel Through The Dark is Andy Becker and Lee Tesche‘s soundtrack to James Batley‘s short film, but it’s twice as long as the film. Where is the lost reel? Have the images been expunged? One can only imagine what is happening behind these sounds – these dark drones, military drums, synthesized whisperings. The music was recorded in November, two months after it was released. Are you shivering yet?
Fans (disciples?) of The Haxan Cloak’s self-titled album and Gabriel Saloman’s Soldier’s Requiem will be especially enthralled. The tone is as subterranean as the setting in which it was introduced. Tape hiss, pops and crackles are abundant, especially in the opening and closing moments. A church bell sounds. The guitar creeps and reverberates. These are the elements, according to Tesche, “that nourish like a mother and torment like an unseen demon”. Since the movie is now hidden from sight, we suggest playing the score while reading Marsha Pessl’s Night Film. This is one darkness that deserves to be brought to light. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 