Baron last graced these pages back in 2013 with Hearth Shell’s synth arpeggios bubbling away underneath a New-Age via late 70s NYC vibe. Which was about as representative of the album as any other track off it. Which is to say, not a lot. Which obviously made us love it.
Baron in 2015 is pretty fucking focussed in comparison. It is, dare we say, a rock record. Well, via Progressive Folk. And Psyche. And Wild Cry on the album sounds like a shamanistic David Byrne on cough syrup. But anyway, guitars…everywhere. And drums. And riffs.
Which brings us to the album’s epic centrepiece, Stry.
Dragging itself out of a some celestial marsh — all fog and stars — the song slowly makes its way towards civilisation, one enormous squelching footstep at a time. And by civilisation we mean a 13th century dwelling teetering between worlds. And when it gets there it does not knock but stands at the threshold with fire licking across its skin. It glances at the ghosts of all that have lived there and all that will. It’s at this point that the sky rips in two.