W

W is NO’s polar opposite in every way, and from its first moments it becomes clear that this doesn’t only break new ground, it could well be among Boris’ masterpieces – and even eclipse them.

Three decades and 40-plus albums in, the veteran Japanese trio's sonic footprint continues to sprawl.

The fitful bursts of inspiration across their 27th album W easily rank as some of their finest work in many years – and perhaps even their most accessible to newcomers.

While listeners might look at the state of things around them and consider that an impossible task, spending time with 'W', their follow-up and companion album, may well convince them that amongst the darkness, there is indeed beauty.

A dreamy album – and dichotomous partnership —to follow the nightmarish sounds of NO.

After the barely relenting heaviosity of June’s No LP, W feels like a peace offering.

Experimental metallers show their ambient side.

"W" is a highly inventive, experiential piece of work, and that is probably the least surprising thing about it. Not for the first time, BORIS are taking a deep trip into the heart of sound.

On the minimalist companion to 2020’s NO, the Japanese trio lands a delicate balance of dream pop and drone. It feels like a sanctuary.

It’s a 180 from the in-your-face feel of NO, but W ultimately rewards patience.

Boris super-fans will continue to experience the breadth of the trio's journey and worship accordingly. People who find that minimalism doesn't push enough air to be stimulating will likely find this to be sonic wallpaper.

Nearly spectral in its articulation, this set offers a more elegant, restrained side of Boris than we've ever encountered before.

It’s an acceptance of limitations and using those confines to re-examine oneself. Boris come out of W with the same haziness as they entered it. They exit with grace, which is a logical progression after NO’s instinctual revolt.

 

We’re looking at the unfortunate story of an unhatched chicken of drone here.