Fusing industrial ingenuity, post-punk intrigue, and unsettling atmospherics, Barren Mother of All is an excellently sprawling double album from Calgary-based solo project Post Death Soundtrack. Stephen James Moore delivers visceral, untethered performances across dark originals and reimagined covers, creating a dense, provocative exploration of the existential void.
The title was originally inspired by Indian guru Nisargadatta Maharaj, who once said, “Consciousness is only a concept. Therefore, I call the entire manifestation, ‘The child of a barren woman.'”
Moore explains: “That quote and concept stuck with me for years so I knew some day I wanted it for an album or band name. The musical approach is meant to act as anarchy and I think it aims for an inner uprising of some kind. I wanted to be really brazen and reflect the inner spirit. Most of the vocals are one take and many of the songs were written and recorded within an hour. I wanted to capture the energy an of the moment. Iggy Pop is one of my heroes so I like to take inspiration from him being so incredibly loose and free.”
Opening the album, “Queen Bee” is exemplary of the project’s penchant for melding unsettling lyrical and sonic prowess with inventive, unfolding soundscapes. “I’ve got a living womb and a buzzing hive,” Moore sings throughout the track, with grimy post-punk bass bounces and flickers of uneasy synths building with foreboding energy, culminating in a “that’s a situation” vocal snarl reminiscent of The Fall. Arriving next, “Bitches Brew” shifts to an initial arsenal of twinkling keys and forlorn strings, moving seamlessly into heavy rhythmic propulsion as haunting, quivering vocals enter: “The priest still lives, but his truth is gone.” The album’s opening one-two punch immerses the listener in the gritty urgency of “Queen Bee” and the late-night haunts of “Bitches Brew.”
The highlights continue throughout. “The Truth is Wild” is especially memorable for its riveting synth expanses, swelling from toybox-like keys into ghostly synth grandiosity and chilling melodic accompaniment. “Nothing is real, it’s all sold for cheap,” the delivery unveils, capturing the state of a world in tumult. The subsequent “Baby Magpies” dabbles in a more lo-fi character, sitting in similar darkness between fierce performance and whispers, spine-tingling in its “here I am… a dead man walking” ominousness. “Mr. Wolf” continues this strong stretch, sounding like a cross between Nick Cave and Scott Walker in its shaky, emotive enthrallment and clanging atmospherics.
The album also serves up a variety of creative covers. They range from The Doors’ “Not To Touch the Earth,” embracing a brisk guitar-fronted whirring, to RATM’s “Settle For Nothing,” sounding as if Nine Inch Nails took a stab at it. A haunting, folk-friendly cover of Tom Waits’ “Chocolate Jesus” also succeeds, as do memorable takes on PJ Harvey’s “Electric Light” and “Long Snake Moan.” Overall, however, it is Moore’s original songwriting and knack for artfully unveiling atmospheres that prove the most moving. Barren Mother of All is another definitively epic full-length success from Post Death Soundtrack.
