I know, right?! They’re natural enemies, for frak’s sake…!
Sunn O))) have the ballsyness of the jock with the pretentious leanings of art-for-its-own-sake of the band geek/ metalhead demi-race.*
They don’t use drums, because fuck drums.
They’re too heavy for that.
I thought, before I heard them, that their name was pronounced “Sunno”**– also a glaring sign of pretentiousness, when your name has letters, signs, characters, sigils, etc., that are silent. (Never mind that several releases are only on vinyl. They’re really just asking for it, Jesus….)
Personally, I wish they’d just lose the robes and rock out in the fog in civvies. But it’s whatever.
But– if that what it takes to make music like Sunn O))), so be it.
The Soda Shop, Sawtooth Wave, The Ripple Effect, the former Stonnerrock.com, and many other sites exist expressly for the sole purpose of promoting the “heavy.” Not the rock, or speed necessarily, but the HEVEE.
The true power of Sunn O))) comes from a genuine devotion to the HEVEE (I’m spelling it differently because it’s really it’s own thing, not just a measure of weight, like “heavy,” but of strength, massiveness, power, truth even… it needs its own terminology), and loving Sunn O))) only comes from HEVEE worship, as well.
Live, Sunn O))) are all fog machines and minor second chord progressions on guitars so detuned they’re this close to only being audible to dogs, to being infrasound, to being that thing that may or may not be responsible for residual haunting….
Is that not enough of a description to get you to listen…?
Sunn O))) don’t move ears, they move innards, they move viscera, they move bowels… (at shows, some caution should be exercised if you’ve eaten Mexican recently, seriously…).
Go get Monoliths and Dimensions, or Dømkirke on vinyl, or Black One (if you’re a cherry picker, get “It Took The Night To Believe” and put it on repeat). Get tank-like speakers, or good headphones with a shitton of bass, or crank it to jet engine levels in the car.
Really listen to it, let the whole album saturate you. That’s what it does. It seeps in.
Let it in. Let it possess you.
Then tell you can even remember how pretentious they as they take you somewhere else, daddy-O.
Isn’t that what music’s for…?