Aluk Todolo's experimentalism always felt boundless, not shackled to a particular sound or genre. Since their inception back in 2004, the instrumental trio put forth an overarching vision that would encompass krautrock motifs, noise rock, and no-wave practices via way of a blackened psychedelic foundation. And Aluk Todolo executed this vision accordingly, amassing a stellar discography that contained excellent releases, with Finsternis, Occult Rock and Voix standing out. Lux now joins this tradition, following an astounding eight-year gap since Aluk Todolo's previous full-length.
While years have passed, Aluk Todolo appear to be unaffected by the gap. Lux carries on exactly where Voix left things off as if they put themselves in a stasis cryo-chamber and have now simply re-emerged. This re-appearance begins with an air of mystery, a darkened shrine veiled behind smoke and shadow slowly appearing in the auditory domain. The atmosphere carries much of the black metal lineage, leaning on the eerie and otherworldly essence of the genre to erect these nebulous constructs. It checks all the boxes for a trip gone wrong, where all the psychedelic intent has been processed through layers and layers of vitriolic fervor, resulting in a potently disorienting experience.
Because this is the bread and butter of Aluk Todolo; embracing forms and notions from other genres and then distorting them through their intriguing kaleidoscope. Take the krautrock inspirations of Lux for example. While much of the progression, the repetitive patterns, and the spacious demeanor are present, they are all slightly off. Instead a sense of cosmic wonder, you are left with a sense of cosmic dread. It is similar to the jazz motifs that Lux displays. The improvisational aspect is left unchanged, but the urban quality of the genre is mutated. Instead, it becomes something alien, existing in this world but not of it. Something that ought not to be.
At this stage, it feels like Aluk Todolo's discography is simply a living document, with each new entry simply re-discovering the full body of the work. In that sense, Lux is not a particularly novel entry, but it does not require it to be. Aluk Todolo's ability to produce a distorted mirror image of well-known recipes is uncanny (imagine a corrupted reflection of Grails), and each new appearance is welcomed.
