Album of the Week - Sleeping in Gethsemane's 'When the Landscape is Quiet Again'

          Some time ago, I had a feature going on the blog called 'playlist of the week', where I would compile songs I'd gotten into during the week into a playlist and make it accessible for readers. Unfortunately, I didn't have very much time to listen to new music, so the feature eventually stagnated to very few artists and I eventually abandoned it all together, having lost interest.
          To this end, I'm looking to bring back a similar feature in the form of 'Album of the Week' - a new album I've discovered this week that I dig particularly. I'll provide a link to stream the album, and say a few words about why it's awesome. I really think this is going to be a fun addition to the blog, and ensure I update regularly.
           With that being said, let's take a look at our first album of the week - from post-metal pioneers

Sleeping in Gethsemane. Hailing from North Dakota (along with precisely zero other musical acts of note), the band has been consistently putting out material since 2005 with little to no recognition. Last week, they released their swan song record When the Landscape is Quiet Again, after months of attempting to sell equipment to break even for the album's production.
            And let me tell you, it certainly has paid off. The band has shown substantial talent in mixing ambiance with technicality, as the album kicks off with the airy, almost insubstantial harmonics of 'The Brave', biding its time as the bass and drumwork slowly build tension. 'The Brave' is unafraid to abruptly grab you by the ears and drag you along for an audible ride.
        As the album plays out, the band's technical prowess and sheer control over their instruments is what beings to stand out. The instruments layer onto each other, and SIG is unafraid to turn up the bass, giving bassist Brandon Schiwal almost an important role as guitarist Brandon LaPlante.
        There are no underrepresented band members - every instrument is meticulously textured and molded into one soundscape of epic proportions - one could argue that even the silences are heavy. Yet there's almost a sense of sorrow as the record goes on - as though it's aware that this is the last SIG album.
         Even so, there's no room for frilly production - the band has three members and pushes each one to their limit. The band reminds me of North Irish post-rockers And So I Watch You From Afar, but retains more of a down-trodden, bass heavy beat.
         Clocking in at a little over thirty minutes, When the Landscape is Quiet Again is an epic, sweeping, and altogether too short album that manages to pack so much emotion into six or seven songs. The band has split, and will not be releasing any new material, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't support them.
          You can stream the album here, and also buy it (for $7 or more) at the site's bandcamp.