Jay Som, Milked, Pro Teens, The World’s Greatest, Chillemi, Mercy, Belgrado, and Son of Rams all recently had full streams that found their way out into the world but, while all of them were outstanding releases, none of them had the significant impact that accompanied Krill‘s posthumous self-titled EP.
Krill’s name has been a staple of this site for around the entirety of its run. The band’s work didn’t come into sharp focus for me (or many other that eventually treated the band like a religion) until I caught their live show, which left me wide-eyed and astounded. The band’s final full-length effort, A Distant Fist Unclenching, was both their finest work and the closest they’ve ever come to capturing the intangible magic present in their live shows.
Losing the band last year was an extremely tough blow and several A Year’s Worth of Memories contributors wrote about the band’s legacy and learning how to reconcile their loss. The other day, the band unexpectedly resurfaced with a glimmer of hope (one characteristically shrouded in self-doubt and misery) with one final release from beyond the grave.
Krill has a lofty title to live up to but it’s the only one that makes sense; it’s the encapsulation of all the eccentricities that made the band so fiercely and fervently adored by an intensely dedicated following. They made no attempts to hide the grotesque nature of their narratives, their uncompromising approach to songwriting, or the total and complete lack of glamour in their presentation. For all of those reasons (and so many more), the East Coast community that birthed the band became remarkably protective of the trio, placing them on a pedestal that only a few bands have ever managed to near.
When the band was playing their final few shows (one of which I wrote about in detail here), they were playing the songs that would come to make up the astonishing Krill EP. “Meat”, a genuine standout, has the unique distinction of rekindling the fire that the band so effortlessly lit. It’s also one of the first tracks the band wrote to incorporate a baritone guitar and the end result of that decision is one of the band’s most inspired songs.
“Meat” sees the band achieving the full potential of the band, implementing exceptionally thoughtful instrumentation, startling dynamic turns, and brash, confrontational lyrics that directly address loneliness, shame, humiliation, and vulnerability in an arresting, honest fashion. Everyone in the band gives the song everything they’ve got and they wind up with a miniature, self-contained masterpiece and what’s easily not just one of the best tracks in their catalog but one of the best songs of 2016.
The rest of Krill sustains the tone set by “Meat” and transforms the EP into an essential release of the band’s sharpest material instead of a victory lap that coasts on past successes. Risks get taken, vocals crack, and the trio fearlessly embraces moments of uncertainty. All of it’s deeply compelling and a significant reminder of the band’s overwhelming value, which remains a sorely missed asset to the DIY music circuit.
Perhaps the best indicator of the band’s uncompromising vision arrives at the EP’s halfway point with the sprawling, winding “The Void”, an unblinking track that challenges and even encourages listeners to confront their failings and limitations. It’s a bold, provocative song that’s guided along by Krill’s masterful musicianship, genuine understanding, and (one of their most overlooked traits) a subtle dash of empathy driven by a commendably complete sense of humanity.
“Billy” closes the collection out and brings the saga of Krill to its official end with an insistence that Krill will never truly be dead. The values the band stood for, the records they left behind, what they accomplished in their time of existence, all of it will always have a rightful place both in their lives and in the lives of the people who gravitated into their orbit. Even as Krill ultimately falls into a trance and disintegrates into a wall of feedback, blown-out distortion, and white noise, the band’s legacy remains intact and their iconic status keeps growing, even after departing. So, it’s time to say, once more, with certainty and feeling: Krill forever.
Listen to Krill below and pick up a copy here. Watch a large portion of one of the band’s final sets beneath the bandcamp embed.