Despite the mystique around the band itself (with the identity of the members largely unknown), musically The Netherland’s An Autumn For Crippled Children have been consistent and mostly familiar. Across the span of ten full-length albums, their sound has hardly deviated at all but has shown signs of refinement in the past, with their brand of post-Rock and shoegaze-tinged Black Metal being both despairing and simultaneously almost comforting with the consistency.
Their latest album Closure (Prosthetic Records) continues this trend in sublime fashion.
Album opener, “Missed”, arrived without ceremony as it instantly breaks into a morose, floating melody, later coupled with piercing synths and MXM’s tortured shrieks. It is exactly the kind of opening fans would have come to expect at this stage. The following “I See You…But Never Clearly” proves more despondent with its slower, moodier pacing which still bears a weightless quality in its shoegaze-like soundscapes.
Herein lies one of the band’s true, great qualities; that equally pairing of bleakness with floating, near-uplifting tones and passages bringing a familiar internal balance between conflicting emotions. “Closure” as a prime example showcases some hugely immersive, delicate passages which conjure a floating sensation, whilst once again being paired by anguished wails. By the time of album finale “Here Comes Sorrow”, it’s clear that Closure provides very little in surprises or divergence, whilst at the same time realising that you have been lost within this almost contrasting, captivating sound once again.
An Autumn For A Crippled Children have cemented a long-standing reputation and niche which will certainly bring some naysayers decrying Closure to be more of the same. However this familiarity is one of the band’s strengths as they master their sound with each and every release, and Closure is further evidence of this and is just as powerful and resonant as we have come to expect of them.
Buy the album here:
https://anautumnforcrippledchildren.bandcamp.com/album/closure
7 / 10
CHRIS TIPPELL