A compelling piece exploring Avery Dart’s Lurkers of Languid Waters, an ambient-black metal record that delves into the plight of elusive aquatic life through its unique blend of storytelling and ecological critique. At its heart lies the eel, a creature often overlooked but deeply emblematic of environmental fragility—specifically the freshwater anguillids in Japan, Europe, and North America. Dart’s music serves as both a metaphor and a call to action, using his art to raise awareness about biodiversity loss and pollution. The album’s narrative spans seven minutes, shifting genres—from progressive black metal to ambient drone—reflecting the fluidity of nature’s cycles. However, the music’s execution risks alienating listeners, as seen in tracks like Eel Black Market, which struggles to convey meaning due to overused motifs and overly complex arrangements. Instead, the album’s most striking moments emerge when the music itself becomes a vessel for emotional resonance, such as in The Phantoms That Haunt and Linger, where eerie synths and haunting vocals evoke a sense of isolation. While some argue the album lacks cohesion, others find its experimental approach intriguing, especially in contrast to its intended message. Personally, I believe this work underscores the importance of preserving natural habitats, even if it means stepping outside the comfort zone of mainstream music. If only enough people listened and acted, perhaps the eel’s journey could inspire change.
