Rhododendron – Ascent Effort | Album Review
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The Flenser
Now, I could be wrong, but I think that something’s going down on the intergalactic genre interstate. If so, it might have something to do with these juiced, plinky jazz runs and chugging riffs that have been singing off my eyebrows.
Anyone who’s been on the alternative side of the music-inclined internet long enough knows the inundation, in the last few years, of every variety of “gaze” and “core”—enough to frazzle even the most dedicated RateYourMusic bro. Part and parcel of this collision of genres is an air of musical discovery; perhaps the mere idea of a “blackened twinkle digi-core” implies a new frontier being paved by hungry DIY-ers. Maybe it's the renewed sense that already trodden roads still have new, unexplored trails that can reignite and revitalize an audience’s attention. This could certainly be said for dominant musical institutions as well, such as the popularization of hyperpop or the commercial stabilization of alt-country “nuGrass,” but it’s not hard to see how this snowballs in the annals of subcultural musical movements.
Portland trio Rhododendron’s sophomore LP, Ascent Effort, arrives to push the conversation over the proverbial edge.
Ascent Effort organizes itself as a radiant mirage of genres and the great soup of musical influences one reminisces about while listening; simultaneously genre-full and genre-less. A lesser band would buckle under these contradictions, but these Portlanders are playing their fucking asses off—perfect additions to The Flenser’s ever-undulating cohort of badass savants and freaks.
The album’s kickstarter, “Firmament,” introduces us to a kind of ethereal death-ambient à la Blood Incantation or Opeth at their most massive. Noah Mortola’s drums invent and surprise, the bass keeps everything in line, and the guitar tone somehow straddles groove and grit. The song finishes with a percussive assault and leads into the inquisitive, angular “Like Spitting Out Copper.” Rhododendron definitely play their jazziest for the greater part of the track before picking the pace back up with the album’s first vocals. Guitarist-vocalist Ezra Chong’s screams are cutting and dripping with personality, especially on the following track, “Stow,” where the album’s influences thus far coalesce into a sometimes pounding, sometimes slinking saga that consistently highlights the rhythm section’s uncanny unity.
None of this is to suggest that Ascent Effort ever broaches the usual pitfalls of post-hardcore or progressive trios, namely becoming too “mathy,” endlessly “jammy,” or otherwise unfocused. Rhododendron maintain a sense of integrity that’s hard to pin down; through each exploration, they prove yet again that they know how to take their ideas from initial kernels to kaleidoscopic sagas. No better example exists than the penultimate “Family Photo,” which sees a delightful, if spare, return of vocals and a perfect showcase of Gage Walker’s driving bass that I can’t get out of my head. The record concludes with “Within Crippling Light,” an epic in the truest sense of the word—a ceaselessly technical and progressive mixture of form and content to mostly delightful ends. I found my mind drifting throughout the piece’s 13-minute runtime and, upon relistens, couldn’t find the same urgency from that first spin. Of course, the same has often been said of the equally tempestuous compositions of Godspeed You! Black Emperor or Sunn O))), so this is all to taste.
In the same vein, Ascent Effort’s blazes many paths toward its ultimate, emotional absolution, and there are moments where I wonder whether the band lingers on a musical motif for just a tad too long. But whether or not that’s the case couldn’t dream of overshadowing just how enjoyable the whole album is to listen to, nor the manifold pleasures of hearing constantly evolving ideas play out over the 40-minute runtime. Part of me also wonders how Ascent Effort would sound with Chong’s vocals across the entire mix, bringing screamo further into the fold, but that would compromise the extreme tact with which vocals are presented. Nothing about the vocal delivery is boilerplate, nor do they feel like a checked-off box; the band brilliantly uproots traditional expectations of what vox signal in the modern western tradition. They are a gateway bridging ideas—combining them to become more than the sum of their parts. This is why such criticisms hit a significant barrier when specifically applied to Rhododendron, and I believe the key lies in the album’s title itself.
I can’t remember a recent time I thought of a band, “wow, these folks are rocking my fucking world right now.” In this way, Ascent Effort reminds me of some of the genre make-or-break classics—to name a few: Loveless, Aja, Burnin’, Bitches Brew, or whatever wizards like John Zorn and Keiji Haino have been cooking up for decades. This record, in name and in function, really does feel like a concerted effort to ascend, as though in tireless search of fresh views formerly obscured by one’s first effort. Returning to their 2021 release, Protozoan Battle Hymns, it’s quite rewarding to see where and what the trio decided to expand upon. So many thematic elements of “Moloch Whose Eyes are a Thousand Blind Windows”—sometimes prog, sometimes post-rockian onslaught—make a cameo, but never in such a way that I thought, “oh, this is like that other thing.” It’s a difficult alchemy to master—blending what was and what was good with what wants to be—but I think Rhododendron really pull it off here.
Listening to Ascent Effort is, at turns, a test, a revelation, an unanswerable problem, and too much fun. And that’s where I leave off: this album is a ton of fun. That’s a treat these days—to be able to sit, listen, smile, and say “hell yeah.” I really don’t know where the gang goes from here, but without question, this is only the (new) beginning.
Poppy Bishop Sinclaire is a southern writer, educator, and literary theorist. You can follow their pug, Dimple, on Instagram @disco_christ.
