REZN
Cycles in the Infinite Dream
SARGENT HOUSE
As defined by Merriam-Webster, REZN is the unappealing detritus that accrues at the bottom of a utensil used to ingest marijuana. All right, maybe that M-W citation is BS, but the rest of the sentence is on-point. And it also bears no application to the psych-doom band of the same name that first reared its head in Chicago a decade ago. It’s a miracle in itself that the posse persisted for as long as it did: REZN issued four full-lengths and an arm’s load of other releases on their own before finally striking a deal with Sargent House to issue 2024’s Burden and this here album we have convened to discuss.
REZN consists of guitarist/vocalist Rob McWilliams, bassist Phil Cangelosi, modular synthesizer and sax player Spencer Ouellette, and percussionist Patrick Dunn (McWilliams and Dunn both play sitar, too!). Here’s another point that shouldn’t be overlooked: It’s extremely rare for a metal band that’s existed for more than a decade to retain the same membership throughout the duration of their career. The proof is in the pouch of songs that comprise Cycles in the Infinite Dream, an album that’s as deadly serious in story as it is execution. Drifting melodic at first before landing on virtuosity riffing that would make Pallbearer collectively clench their fist, the message that lies beneath opener “Rites of Passage” is as follows: “Running away from oblivion / Your shadow extends / Running away from oblivion / Delaying the end.” It makes what Mastodon sang about in terms of oblivion look like party time at Chuck E. Cheese.
Elsewhere on the album, McWilliams flips the social disgust Americans have for transience in any form and discovers the benefit of that mindset to connect him to his cosmic purpose. “Primal Thread” finds him re-examining whether his only purpose in life is to spew lyrics. The story of the record continues on like this until McWilliams reaches the monk-like realization on the last song, “Terra Preta,” that the greatest comfort in life is silence.
Admittedly, this review is devoting a lot of real estate to lyrical content, but that’s on purpose: The primary reason doom, psych, and stoner rock have bottomed out (no pun intended) in recent years is because a band will always throw the story under the bus before the almighty riff. But on Cycles, REZN say fuck that. Discussion of drugs aside, musicians and fans alike have grown and evolved with bands over the years that are as apt to head-bang as they are to get their head checked. We all knew doom metal could be seriously good, but who knew it could be so serious?
