I thought it might be useful to have an allocated space for any Twoismers who enjoy writing / music criticism to post their “official” reviews, and of course for discussion of these analyses. This forum has always struck me as a pretty sharp crowd. I know there have been some posts on other topics that have struck me as really well-crafted appraisals, so perhaps this topic sort of won’t work at this stage, but let’s see!
I can get things kicked off…
A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
Moderators: Aesthetics, Drones, Hexagon Sun
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el Cerebro
- Posts Quantity
- Posts: 149
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- Location: Columbus, Ohio
- Contact:
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el Cerebro
- Posts Quantity
- Posts: 149
- Joined: Fri May 04, 2012 3:23 am
- Location: Columbus, Ohio
- Contact:
INFERNO, or, The Current State of Affairs
Perhaps more mathematically obsessed than any other musicians I can think of (save for Bach, Reich, Glass, Coltrane, and perhaps “math rock” incendiaries such as Animals As Leaders or Don Caballero), Board of Canada are intrinsically drawn to the timeless relationship between numbers and sound, mathematical patterns and aural design at its most divine. Music, of course, is math, as we particular listeners know well. Mozart intimately understood this, too.
***
In the early 1950s, the otherworldly mathematical genius Jasci von Neumann unleashed the prophetically named MANIAC supercomputer upon a world reeling from a new nuclear reality, forever altering the course of this perilous space rock. Drawing loosely on the brilliant work of Alan Turing, he envisioned a vast array of self-replicating automata diving deep into the cosmos, carrying forth his grim legacy. Such men birthed artificial intelligence; and despite their almost alien brilliance, I am stunned by their lack of true vision—as Jeff Goldblum observed in Jurassic Park, these scientists “were so preoccupied by if they could do it that they never stopped to wonder if they should.”
Our humanity is being stolen from us, systematically, and this world-historical thievery is only accelerating. Power, is in a sense the religion of the modern world; the scientific law of nature is being sacrificed at the altar of unfettered capitalism and technological recklessness.
***
Even back in 2013, Mike and Marcus Sandison saw most of this coming—they even provided us a custom horror-movie-psychedelic behemoth of an album to soundtrack the next 13 years. (The deeper we continue to collectively unravel, the deeper my reverence grows for Tomorrow’s Harvest.) Yet I don’t think they—nor most anyone else, really—truly foresaw how tremendously fucked this stupid fucking shit would get: AI slop-saturated Hellscapes, callous drone warfare, outright nightmare genocides being ignored across the globe, government disclosures of shocking UFO material, insidious levels of oligarchical consolidation, tyrants and their sycophants running amock both in the material world and on “social media”—the list of wretched societal atrocities continues to accelerate at a pace matched only by our infantile technological irresponsibility.
***
Lacking the philosophical and sociological chops to issue any truly useful information on such matters, let’s get to the music.
***
A classic, retro-styled jingle lets us know that we’ve arrived, at last. Never has such a brief little flourish of sound affected me in such a directly emotional way. It’s a testament to how beloved this band is, how precious their magnificent sound-structures are to so many people.
The aptly titled “Prophecy” is a declaration of purpose. A freshly sentient AI, immediately drunk on its own infinite power, proclaims itself god and issues its philosophy of nihilism, err, existence. All Hell ensues, before an enchanting NIN-esque coda gently carries us away, into the heart of darkness. It’s probably the least interesting track on the album (don’t get me wrong—it’s perfect) but it serves as an immediately scintillating opener and a prologue for the material and motifs to follow.
“Leviathan” lurches along its path in a mechanical, methodical, unstoppable way, much the same as our own inevitable doom slowly unfolds, too protracted to immediately perceive and resist. Along the way, an unusual melody chimes and chirps, sounding initially unfamiliar to the BoC catalogue, until of course it all comes together in a marvelous way. It was strange to hear at the album listening party—the first truly new music, following as it does upon the heels of the already hungrily digested single. Yet, almost immediately upon conclusion, it makes perfect sense—and I would call it an instant classic.
The overwhelming menace of “Leviathan” dissipates into maybe the sweetest, most earnest track on the record. “Capricorn” is gorgeous—the first real dose we the listener get of the brothers uncanny ability to wield a beautiful little melody, textured into a sparkling, warm little jewel. Of all the wonderful moments this record contains, this was the one that brought me to tears upon first listen. I knew then that we had been given a special gift.
***
Inferno is the product of a 13 year gestation and it shows—this record is more jam-packed than a collapsing star.
***
“Father and Son” is fucking demented, and equally fucking hilarious. It sounds like an LSD circus soundtracked by The Books. The AI overlord from “Prophecy” makes little cameos, interjecting here and there so as to cast judgement upon a despairing dialogue between a father and a son concerning their complete falling out. This one goes hard, and it’s abundantly clear at this point that the voices—delivered as usual via fucked-up samples—are of an entirely different breed on this album.
“Somewhere Right Now in the Future” exudes delightful Robin Guthrie / Harold Budd vibes—tone and shade and maybe an approaching thunderstorm (or perhaps a distant exploding star) collide in a liquid watercolor.
“Naraka” shares some melodic elements with “Leviathan”—those crystalline, almost DAW-derived sounding leads, driven by an almost prehistoric rhythm section. At the listening party, about halfway through the piece was the first time I closed my eyes, to just soak in the music. Soon after, it dissipated into the “Hare Krishna” incantation, and I was completely mesmerized. The way a layered micro-flute mirrors the chant, in a little dance, is a small detail of resplendent beauty. It’s such a simple-seeming track, but it is gorgeous. The entire goddam thing is gorgeous.
Whilst driving us through its darker themes, the album becomes somehow gentler as it unfolds. I really feel like the first third is spent largely introducing us to the elements that comprise the utterly shocking, religiously revelatory, divinely magnificent second two-thirds. “Naraka” is the sweet goodbye as we depart.
***
Some people are speculating about grief, or loss in general—plain old death—as being a driving theme of the album, and I thoroughly agree. They sample both a heart and a heart monitor; celestial bodies twinkle and portend; the problem of naraka, of hell and eternal punishment, underpins everything; a woman painfully recalls having watched her friend die drowning in a pool, high on PCP and unable to comprehend the gravitas of the moment; a misguided, zealot son recites archaic scripture to justify his refusal to acknowledge his loving father; a man convinced of his own irreconcilable sin offers up a seemingly self-assured but ultimately useless prayer, acknowledging his own fragility, pleading to be redeemed. This record throbs existentialism, of having suffered greatly—but (maybe?) also finally finding redemption, finding peace amidst chaos.
***
Upon the heels of the gentle, mourning “Memory Death,” “The Word Becomes Death” feels like having to go back to a job you hate in the throes of some burning trauma. “Flesh” is a veritable maelstrom of densely packed vocal bits. It sounds as if the sample source is the same, but they way the clear vocals combat the robotic ones makes it seem like the final rap battle between humanity and the same ultimate, sentient AI monstrosity we encountered in “Prophecy,” that blasphemy the oligarchs seem determined to birth. A chipper human scientist is trying to convince this all-powerful horror to fully understand the miracle of humanity, of all life for that matter, underpinned by the same perversely blissful groove demons that score “Father and Son.” Fucking tripped out, friends.
This album, by the way, is infested by the most delightful groove demons…
“Into the Magic Land”—quite unexpectedly—radiates a sound-world reminiscent of Mogwai. It’s so simple but infinitely charming and expansive in execution. The brothers have long deployed a mastery of texture on par with Van Gogh, and I say that with utter sincerity. They love letting an unexpected chord progression dissipate into oblivion for a few extra bars to masterful effect—this method works especially well on the spellbinding “Blood in the Labyrinth,” wherein we recall the disturbing, aforementioned drowning story, but are also treated to classic, soaring BoC synth washes and a smattering of Eastern instrumentation that works to tremendous effect. The timing of these two tunes is just perfect after the outright chaos of “The Word Becomes Flesh.”
“Deep Time” and “All Reason Departs” comprise the beating heart of the music. A soaring ambient glory concludes in a swirl of harp and lamentation; later, synth flourishes go momentarily insane, bequeathing another quintessential BoC melodic treasure. Then, our nemesis—this brazen AI fuck—challenges us all to a final showdown.
“The Process” is probably our funeral. The powers that be have willingly engineered our collective collapse, perhaps understanding that they have taken their hubris much too far, and only their bunkers in New Zealand offer escape. Generally Boards save their obituaries for the end, but here remain the ashes of Inferno. All that is left is a eulogy.
***
Sweet little ambient loops care nothing about the preceding conflagration, the bass is a corny caress, and everything morphs into a diabolically understated march towards some unknown endpoint. “You Retreat” is a quintessential BoC psychedelic beauty-vortex. Following upon such a retinue of esoteric, bizarre melodies, it almost seems out of place at first, a bit awkward. Yet it’s such a sincere olive branch, and it coalesces into such emotional, human tenderness—another listening party tear-jerker, for almost all attending acolytes. We have been given an absolute gift with this record. There was just a tiny, understated rollout, at least compared to the legendary Harvest ARG, because this music is MASSIVE. Just thinking about it without the attendant sound gives me warm shudders of sadness and joy.
Inferno is hugely reminiscent of the Societas X Tape—that mix was most definitely a harbinger of this colossal disc. Love it or hate it (I am unable to comprehend hating this thing) it can’t be denied that it contains a multiverse to unpack. It’s got to be their densest, most in-your-face music yet, as well as their most categorically stunning set.
***
Some people are saying Inferno is the “album of the summer”—I think that’s a criminal understatement. This thing is a desperate edict, as clear as a mountain stream, the mind revealing itself to itself. It is a vision of what we have done to ourselves, what we allow to happen to ourselves despite our firmest denials; yet at the same time, it feels at its core a love letter to us all, and the world at large, excluding fucking AI.
Of note: I also got some Orbital Wonky vibes from this record, and I do feel like they share some significant aspects, both being rather monumental returns from long hiatuses; yet Inferno is of another class, for sure. It’s funny now that the Sandisons were initially leary of being identified as brothers for fear of ensuring endless comparisons to the Hartnolls.
Inferno is the album of the year, maybe the most instructive, important, and categorically beautiful album of this century; it is unchallenged now, undoubtedly, and likely won’t be in the near future—and even the bloody supercomputers couldn’t have seen that coming.
98/100
***
In the early 1950s, the otherworldly mathematical genius Jasci von Neumann unleashed the prophetically named MANIAC supercomputer upon a world reeling from a new nuclear reality, forever altering the course of this perilous space rock. Drawing loosely on the brilliant work of Alan Turing, he envisioned a vast array of self-replicating automata diving deep into the cosmos, carrying forth his grim legacy. Such men birthed artificial intelligence; and despite their almost alien brilliance, I am stunned by their lack of true vision—as Jeff Goldblum observed in Jurassic Park, these scientists “were so preoccupied by if they could do it that they never stopped to wonder if they should.”
Our humanity is being stolen from us, systematically, and this world-historical thievery is only accelerating. Power, is in a sense the religion of the modern world; the scientific law of nature is being sacrificed at the altar of unfettered capitalism and technological recklessness.
***
Even back in 2013, Mike and Marcus Sandison saw most of this coming—they even provided us a custom horror-movie-psychedelic behemoth of an album to soundtrack the next 13 years. (The deeper we continue to collectively unravel, the deeper my reverence grows for Tomorrow’s Harvest.) Yet I don’t think they—nor most anyone else, really—truly foresaw how tremendously fucked this stupid fucking shit would get: AI slop-saturated Hellscapes, callous drone warfare, outright nightmare genocides being ignored across the globe, government disclosures of shocking UFO material, insidious levels of oligarchical consolidation, tyrants and their sycophants running amock both in the material world and on “social media”—the list of wretched societal atrocities continues to accelerate at a pace matched only by our infantile technological irresponsibility.
***
Lacking the philosophical and sociological chops to issue any truly useful information on such matters, let’s get to the music.
***
A classic, retro-styled jingle lets us know that we’ve arrived, at last. Never has such a brief little flourish of sound affected me in such a directly emotional way. It’s a testament to how beloved this band is, how precious their magnificent sound-structures are to so many people.
The aptly titled “Prophecy” is a declaration of purpose. A freshly sentient AI, immediately drunk on its own infinite power, proclaims itself god and issues its philosophy of nihilism, err, existence. All Hell ensues, before an enchanting NIN-esque coda gently carries us away, into the heart of darkness. It’s probably the least interesting track on the album (don’t get me wrong—it’s perfect) but it serves as an immediately scintillating opener and a prologue for the material and motifs to follow.
“Leviathan” lurches along its path in a mechanical, methodical, unstoppable way, much the same as our own inevitable doom slowly unfolds, too protracted to immediately perceive and resist. Along the way, an unusual melody chimes and chirps, sounding initially unfamiliar to the BoC catalogue, until of course it all comes together in a marvelous way. It was strange to hear at the album listening party—the first truly new music, following as it does upon the heels of the already hungrily digested single. Yet, almost immediately upon conclusion, it makes perfect sense—and I would call it an instant classic.
The overwhelming menace of “Leviathan” dissipates into maybe the sweetest, most earnest track on the record. “Capricorn” is gorgeous—the first real dose we the listener get of the brothers uncanny ability to wield a beautiful little melody, textured into a sparkling, warm little jewel. Of all the wonderful moments this record contains, this was the one that brought me to tears upon first listen. I knew then that we had been given a special gift.
***
Inferno is the product of a 13 year gestation and it shows—this record is more jam-packed than a collapsing star.
***
“Father and Son” is fucking demented, and equally fucking hilarious. It sounds like an LSD circus soundtracked by The Books. The AI overlord from “Prophecy” makes little cameos, interjecting here and there so as to cast judgement upon a despairing dialogue between a father and a son concerning their complete falling out. This one goes hard, and it’s abundantly clear at this point that the voices—delivered as usual via fucked-up samples—are of an entirely different breed on this album.
“Somewhere Right Now in the Future” exudes delightful Robin Guthrie / Harold Budd vibes—tone and shade and maybe an approaching thunderstorm (or perhaps a distant exploding star) collide in a liquid watercolor.
“Naraka” shares some melodic elements with “Leviathan”—those crystalline, almost DAW-derived sounding leads, driven by an almost prehistoric rhythm section. At the listening party, about halfway through the piece was the first time I closed my eyes, to just soak in the music. Soon after, it dissipated into the “Hare Krishna” incantation, and I was completely mesmerized. The way a layered micro-flute mirrors the chant, in a little dance, is a small detail of resplendent beauty. It’s such a simple-seeming track, but it is gorgeous. The entire goddam thing is gorgeous.
Whilst driving us through its darker themes, the album becomes somehow gentler as it unfolds. I really feel like the first third is spent largely introducing us to the elements that comprise the utterly shocking, religiously revelatory, divinely magnificent second two-thirds. “Naraka” is the sweet goodbye as we depart.
***
Some people are speculating about grief, or loss in general—plain old death—as being a driving theme of the album, and I thoroughly agree. They sample both a heart and a heart monitor; celestial bodies twinkle and portend; the problem of naraka, of hell and eternal punishment, underpins everything; a woman painfully recalls having watched her friend die drowning in a pool, high on PCP and unable to comprehend the gravitas of the moment; a misguided, zealot son recites archaic scripture to justify his refusal to acknowledge his loving father; a man convinced of his own irreconcilable sin offers up a seemingly self-assured but ultimately useless prayer, acknowledging his own fragility, pleading to be redeemed. This record throbs existentialism, of having suffered greatly—but (maybe?) also finally finding redemption, finding peace amidst chaos.
***
Upon the heels of the gentle, mourning “Memory Death,” “The Word Becomes Death” feels like having to go back to a job you hate in the throes of some burning trauma. “Flesh” is a veritable maelstrom of densely packed vocal bits. It sounds as if the sample source is the same, but they way the clear vocals combat the robotic ones makes it seem like the final rap battle between humanity and the same ultimate, sentient AI monstrosity we encountered in “Prophecy,” that blasphemy the oligarchs seem determined to birth. A chipper human scientist is trying to convince this all-powerful horror to fully understand the miracle of humanity, of all life for that matter, underpinned by the same perversely blissful groove demons that score “Father and Son.” Fucking tripped out, friends.
This album, by the way, is infested by the most delightful groove demons…
“Into the Magic Land”—quite unexpectedly—radiates a sound-world reminiscent of Mogwai. It’s so simple but infinitely charming and expansive in execution. The brothers have long deployed a mastery of texture on par with Van Gogh, and I say that with utter sincerity. They love letting an unexpected chord progression dissipate into oblivion for a few extra bars to masterful effect—this method works especially well on the spellbinding “Blood in the Labyrinth,” wherein we recall the disturbing, aforementioned drowning story, but are also treated to classic, soaring BoC synth washes and a smattering of Eastern instrumentation that works to tremendous effect. The timing of these two tunes is just perfect after the outright chaos of “The Word Becomes Flesh.”
“Deep Time” and “All Reason Departs” comprise the beating heart of the music. A soaring ambient glory concludes in a swirl of harp and lamentation; later, synth flourishes go momentarily insane, bequeathing another quintessential BoC melodic treasure. Then, our nemesis—this brazen AI fuck—challenges us all to a final showdown.
“The Process” is probably our funeral. The powers that be have willingly engineered our collective collapse, perhaps understanding that they have taken their hubris much too far, and only their bunkers in New Zealand offer escape. Generally Boards save their obituaries for the end, but here remain the ashes of Inferno. All that is left is a eulogy.
***
Sweet little ambient loops care nothing about the preceding conflagration, the bass is a corny caress, and everything morphs into a diabolically understated march towards some unknown endpoint. “You Retreat” is a quintessential BoC psychedelic beauty-vortex. Following upon such a retinue of esoteric, bizarre melodies, it almost seems out of place at first, a bit awkward. Yet it’s such a sincere olive branch, and it coalesces into such emotional, human tenderness—another listening party tear-jerker, for almost all attending acolytes. We have been given an absolute gift with this record. There was just a tiny, understated rollout, at least compared to the legendary Harvest ARG, because this music is MASSIVE. Just thinking about it without the attendant sound gives me warm shudders of sadness and joy.
Inferno is hugely reminiscent of the Societas X Tape—that mix was most definitely a harbinger of this colossal disc. Love it or hate it (I am unable to comprehend hating this thing) it can’t be denied that it contains a multiverse to unpack. It’s got to be their densest, most in-your-face music yet, as well as their most categorically stunning set.
***
Some people are saying Inferno is the “album of the summer”—I think that’s a criminal understatement. This thing is a desperate edict, as clear as a mountain stream, the mind revealing itself to itself. It is a vision of what we have done to ourselves, what we allow to happen to ourselves despite our firmest denials; yet at the same time, it feels at its core a love letter to us all, and the world at large, excluding fucking AI.
Of note: I also got some Orbital Wonky vibes from this record, and I do feel like they share some significant aspects, both being rather monumental returns from long hiatuses; yet Inferno is of another class, for sure. It’s funny now that the Sandisons were initially leary of being identified as brothers for fear of ensuring endless comparisons to the Hartnolls.
Inferno is the album of the year, maybe the most instructive, important, and categorically beautiful album of this century; it is unchallenged now, undoubtedly, and likely won’t be in the near future—and even the bloody supercomputers couldn’t have seen that coming.
98/100
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Redd Panderson
- Eagle Minded
- Posts: 279
- Joined: Fri Apr 10, 2026 12:36 pm
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
Nice review! I respect your closing; I feel this album will be looked back on as capturing more than most the precarious moment in history that we find ourselves.
My writeup on Giraud's Mirror is too focused on speculation around its potential implications for the grand project of Boards of Canada to be reproduced here.
But, enough of it contains my general sentiment about Inferno and the campaign leading up to its release that I think it's worth sharing the link in this thread:
https://www.twoism.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=16245
My writeup on Giraud's Mirror is too focused on speculation around its potential implications for the grand project of Boards of Canada to be reproduced here.
But, enough of it contains my general sentiment about Inferno and the campaign leading up to its release that I think it's worth sharing the link in this thread:
https://www.twoism.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=2&t=16245
Verde Hexagon Hashbrown
-
el Cerebro
- Posts Quantity
- Posts: 149
- Joined: Fri May 04, 2012 3:23 am
- Location: Columbus, Ohio
- Contact:
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
Thank you, and I can’t wait to read your piece, can’t understand how I missed it!
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
Good idea! I like your description of Into The Magic Land.
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mechanismj
- Nova Scotia Robot
- Posts: 5153
- Joined: Thu Dec 01, 2005 3:35 am
- Contact:
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
My official review:
S'good!
S'good!
-
el Cerebro
- Posts Quantity
- Posts: 149
- Joined: Fri May 04, 2012 3:23 am
- Location: Columbus, Ohio
- Contact:
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
I think that’s wonderful! (Uh huh)mechanismj wrote:My official review:
S'good!
Hehehehaaa
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Waterbagel
- Dayvan Cowboy
- Posts: 1922
- Joined: Sun Aug 09, 2009 12:50 am
- Location: gulf coast US
Re: A place for “official” INFERNO reviews by Twoismers
good call on ItML - Mogwai is spot on. could definitely exist on Rave Tapes. that's what i've been thinking of when that one comes on, but couldn't put a name to it.