Raphael Weinroth-Browne – Empyrean
Raphael Weinroth-Browne – Empyrean
Self Released
Release date: 11/09/26
Review by: Jon Deaux
7.5/10
Empyrean doesn’t blur the line between classical and metal – it just buries it in consecrated ground.
Some folk play cello to evoke Bach. Raphael Weinroth-Browne does this to make you ponder whether Bach would have developed post-metal if he were forced to stay in a warehouse with nothing except distortion pedals for a fortnight.
Empyrean is not meant to be background music. Background music waits patiently for you to stop doing the dishes before it starts playing. However, this album goes with you to the kitchen, sits there quietly, and makes you ponder the possibility of consciousness being a mistake.
This is either pretentious gibberish or the highest praise I can give it.
Empyrean is born of a commission inspired by Johann Sebastian Bach. In the hands of some artists, this project would end up being a tediously pretentious “classical meets modern” endeavor. Luckily, Raphael avoids this fate. He doesn’t remix Bach. He argues with him. Out loud. Over the course of three centuries. The cello is transformed into a highly intelligent beast pulling scraps of Baroque melodies into a storm of static, feedback, and tectonic percussion until both of them stop recognizing each other.
The first track, ‘Speed of Light ‘, doesn’t start as such, but rather materializes out of nowhere. Layer upon layer of cello looped perfectly mathematically detonates into something resembling Leprous fighting God inside an abandoned cathedral. It is heavy without guitars, brutal without blast beats and yet manages to sound even more oppressive than half of the death metal created in 2017. It is impressive since it usually takes a guitarist 7 strings and unresolved psychological problems to make a record sound this imposing.
But Weinroth-Browne needs only horse hair and bad intentions.
‘Remnant’ and ‘Evocation’ continue this dismantling of expectations with unsettling assurance. Everything sounds highly composed yet emotionally explosive, as though one was watching a neurosurgeon performing open-heart surgery and humming Meshuggah riffs at the same time. Technical prowess is apparent all over the album, but there is no gymnastics here whatsoever. No certificates, no shouting about “observe my conservatory training”. Each flourish adds to atmosphere and not to ego and that’s highly unusual in progressive music, where restraining oneself is considered contagious disease.
And then there is ‘Murmuration’ gliding through shimmering textures that are almost peaceful and yet manage to introduce low-end tension which makes your organs lodge workplace grievances.
Darren McGill captures everything in production: every scraping, breath, and vibration in an unnervingly intimate manner, while the mix of Adam Noble somehow succeeds in balancing delicate orchestration and massive physical presence. Mastering of Robin Schmidt keeps all this breathing even as the music threatens to sink into an emotional abyss. It is one of those records that uncover tiny details via headphones and redecorate the entire room thanks to sympathetic vibration via speakers.
There are moments when Empyrean threatens to be swallowed by its philosophy. Some moments in ‘Integration’ dwell a bit too long on its own reflection, while the rest of the album seems sure that the listener possesses the patience of Tibetan monks rather than people constantly skipping to the next song because of texts. Not every passage of Empyrean manages to earn its place on this album.
But those moments pass quickly.
‘Dissolution’ appears as continental drift speeded up to violence, folding the motifs inspired by Bach into crushing waves of layered cello until the whole thing becomes post-rock seen through feverish eyes. While ‘Sanctum’ strips almost everything away to create a devotional atmosphere that sounds spiritual instead of merely atmospheric. It is beautiful in the same way abandoned churches are beautiful – serene until you hear your own heartbeat.
The final track, however, doesn’t provide any resolution. Instead, it just keeps ascending until the horizon disappears behind clouds. Empyrean ends with a silent passage through a wall.
The easiest joke about this album would be calling it “metal for people who own scented candles”. But it would be a spectacular mistake. This album is heavier than many actual metal records because emotional weight is felt for longer than tuning is lowered. Weinroth-Browne knows about tension in the same way Hitchcock knew about silence – deny the obvious and let anticipation work the violence.
The result is the album that demands your attention without becoming arrogant, intellectual without turning into academia, and emotionally shocking without becoming melodramatic. It asks you for your full attention and rewards you with music which sounds unique even in the saturated environment of progressive music.
Most crossover albums try to convince classical fans that the distortion isn’t frightening and metal fans that the violins aren’t contagious. But Empyrean doesn’t care what tribe you belong to. It just builds its own strange cathedral of bow strokes, electronic echoes and impossible ambition, leaving its doors open to anyone daring enough to venture inside.
Somewhere Bach is either deeply offended or taking furious notes.
TRACKLISTING:
01. Speed of Light
02. Remnant
03. Evocation
04. Murmuration
05. Integration
06. Dissolution
07. Sanctum
08. Reflection
09. Empyrean
LINKS:
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