5 out of 5

Produced by: Pelt (?)

Label: VHF Records

Having more recently listened to Pelt’s latter day works, which are very world-music influenced, and with an equally heavy folk vibe, it’s a shock to go back to their early material, when their ample feedback and occasional post-rocking out moments aligned them with quite a different type of scene, or at least one more likely to bait props on “cool” magazine covers.  Brown Cyclopaedia leaned into this scenesterism a bit too much for my taste, but its hints of drone and some of its compositional considerations definitely hinted at a broader scope, and Max Meadows – two albums later – is the ultimate realization of that.  The VOLUME that dissipates in later Pelt is still in full effect at this point, but there’s less of an appeal to audience favor, here; it’s been replaced with 100% immersion into the noise, into the mood, which is very much a future Pelt hallmark.

The drifting, grinding drone of openers Outside Listening / Sun is Standing is gorgeous, and haunting, starting with washes of feedback and a churning guitar before deconstructing into reverbed noodling, which sets up the very Vibracathedral Orchestra-shimmer vibe of the twelve minute Sunken, leaning even more into the reverb to sell the cavernous sense that title suggests.  Wafting about on this track, unsuspecting ears are then assaulted by the Air Conditioning-like violence of Acbdelancey – all mad guitars and washed out shouts – followed by the full-on drone of Samsara, and then the pummeling drumming march of Hippy War Machine.  A peaceful little folk number – Dismal Falls – closes things out.

Despite the long track times, this is still very approachable material, offering an organic sense of buildup that could play alongside more straight-forward instrumental acts, or loud guitar groups, but sifting between this and Cyclopaedia, it’s very clear that something has changed: Pelt has become a group, synchronized in their efforts to bleed some kind of pure expression through their music.  It results in what might be a masterpiece of a genre which tends to favor one style at a time – noise, or drone, etcetera – whereas Pelt prove, on Max Meadows, capable of crossing through them all with success.