Swans

The Glowing Man

The album is monumental in every sense of the word, a visceral testament to the abilities of an incredible group of musicians, each member contributing equally to its breathtaking chiaroscuro.

Legendary experimental rock outfit Swans returns with one of the most transcendental releases in their discography: The Glowing Man.

If The Glowing Man and its recent expansive—and invitingly difficult—predecessors have proven anything, it’s that Gira’s mission is to be boundary-less.

In all of that lies the brilliance of Swans. No experimental group has been able to so perfectly reflect the psychological turmoil of existence and the heavy burden of our pains and regrets.

Swans close their current chapter on a subdued but powerful note.

A defiantly draining listen that's also weirdly uplifting in its ruthless pursuit of a singular vision, The Glowing Man confirms that Gira is an unparalleled artist operating at a strange experimental nexus, somewhere outside the defined borders of folk, metal, classical, and drone.

We’re left with yet another cathartic artefact that, whilst perhaps shrinking in the shadow of what came before, bookends the latest metamorphosis of a band whose next form is anyone’s guess.

Unsettling as it may be, this conflict is a testament to Swans’ unparalleled ability to translate the absurd violence of the human condition into music that’s as intoxicating as it is intense.

It has a slightly transitory feel; a half-step back from those monolithic builds and whiplash grooves, gesturing towards something more contemplative and… well, “softer” feels the wrong word, but certainly weathered by the journey.

With a running time of just under two hours, ‘The Glowing Man’ may prove too punishing for some but those willing to invest time in its fiery depths will discover yet another remarkable Swans album.

This is altogether a gentler Swans than existed even on the occasionally blissful To Be Kind.

The Glowing Man is, according to Michael Gira, a record in which the Swans leader – 62 years old, 14 LPs in – stares into the face of mortality, infinity, God. It sounds like it, too; such lofty thematic ambition matched across a two-hour triple-album striving for the firmament, the transcendent.