FEN Monuments to Absence

FEN on Finding Meaning in the Temporary and Post Black Metal (Interview)


FEN have never been regarded for their fury, instead earning acclaim for combining extreme metal with delicate textures and post-rock structures, retroactively earning the “blackgaze” genre descriptor. However, a cursory listen to Monument to Absence’s pre-release singles reveals that the group has uncorked their long-brewing aggression, and while these singles currently number just less than half the album, they represent much of its totality.

Monument to Absence is more furious and immediate than FEN’s previous albums in that there’s less crawling to dramatic endpoints than there was on 2019’s The Dead Light. While the sequencing that bridged multiple tracks into one heaping mass on The Dead Light is missed, their latest work replaces it with lively songwriting. There’s a newfound urgency in each track’s composite pieces, so there’s less downtime between climaxes. Transitions are more engaging; peaks are higher, and valleys are much murkier. If you’re looking for a mathematical representation, subtract a few points from the “post” portion and move it into the “black metal” piece of the post-black metal equation.

In short, The Watcher had plenty to say about an array of topics, all of which fueled Monument to Absence, out July 7 via Prophecy Productions.

Although your new album Monument to Absence is angrier than your earlier albums, it’s still very considered. It’s not a juvenile sense of anger.

Anger is an emotion that’s always there when you’re playing extreme metal, and I don’t think you can get away from it. The physicality and the force of it are always present. But this was a focused attempt to harness that. It’s hard to pinpoint where they came from ‘cuz we didn’t want it to be a juvenile tantrum. I wanted it to be like cold rage. The original plan for The Dead Line was to go down that path a little bit, but the materials, aesthetics, and concepts that came together moved towards something more glittering, ethereal, and cosmic. There was still some raging stuff there, but we moved away from it as we progressed deeper into it. So for this album, I wanted to make something tense and dark, and I wanted there to be anger in it, but not an uncontrolled rage. Like you said, I wanted it to be considered. I wanted to show that you can be angry and aggressive and furious and inject subtlety and progressive moments without it screaming “prog black metal” from the heavens. I was trying to intentionally synthesize elements. I wasn’t forced, though. It was something we needed to express, but we had to take time to fashion how we said it.

It’s a lofty goal because you’re trying to be angry without being mindless, but at the same time, you want to include progressive aspects without shoehorning yourself into a progressive/black metal corner. You have all these ambitions but you don’t want them to be so far gone that it’s an exercise without meaning.

Absolutely. We’ve always had a progressive streak in the band and I always have time for prog music, and our album Winter was very much a progressive record. For me, this band is a constant process of learning and refining. So, I wanted this record to retain that progressive element but make it fundamental and interweave it into the songs. It’s angry, and on the surface, there are blast beats and tremolo picking, and it’s fast, but I’d like to think we spent most of our time adding touches of subtlety under the hood to give it a bit more and deliver a bit more consideration and thought.

I know that sounds pretentious, but that’s always how we’ve done things. With every album, I’ve stepped back and looked at if there’s cohesion between each of the songs and if the parameters are defined and the practice of the band in general. So there is a lot of thought that goes into it, but every good art has an element of science in it. There’s the belief that art should be a purely unfettered process, but I believe there’s a lot of smoke and mirrors to that approach because yeah, inspiration can strike from anywhere and be an ephemeral thing, but equally, you’ve got to work at it. The danger of accidentally plagiarizing yourself is if you don’t spend time working on something. It’s real, you need to put things in context, and you need to hone them.

You always need those moments of inspiration, but there’s a lot of perspiration too, and to me, much of that is thinking, “What are we doing, what are we trying to say, is this the best way of saying it, how can we improve it?”

Where was the anger on Monument to Absence coming from and where was it directed to, if it was directed somewhere?

That’s an interesting question because I’ve been asking myself that. I’d say this album is a spiritual successor to our fourth album, Carrion Skies, which was the first time we spoke externally about subjects. On previous albums, we focused on reflection and metaphors surrounding that. But Carrion Skies was where we first started looking outwards and discussing fairly traditional black metal topics like the failure of mankind and humanity’s weaknesses and the disaster that is dogmatic monotheism. We took those subjects and ran with them. I can’t say what the impetus of that was. We settled on the direction for Monument to Absence while finishing The Dead Light, so it’s not our COVID album in that sense. It wouldn’t be what it is without the pandemic which gave us time to reflect, focus, and concentrate on what specifically we did on this record. We learned a lot about focus because we didn’t have anything to distract us so we can focus on new material.

In terms of the anger, I think it’s something that gradually sinks into you through osmosis, you know? You look around at the state of sociopolitical discourse, which was starting to take shape at the end of the last decade, and its general directory, and sitting here in 2023, it feels like we’re taking massive steps back as a species. I’m articulating that to myself now in the context of the record, but I wonder if there was something subconscious through me that transferred into the material. It feels like we’ve gone back 40 years in some respect with our approach to social justice, our outlook on our fellow man, on dogma, and ignorance is taking hold wherever you look. People are doubling down on polarized discourse. It’s a pretty dreadful state of affairs, particularly over here in the U.K. This is the worst it’s been since I’ve been a sentient adult.

I wouldn’t put it solely down to that. We strived to make darker material, so they likely go hand-in-hand. It must’ve been something in the subconscious, given how we’re surrounded by information through our phones and all avenues of life. So much goes in the subconscious that I wonder if that was filtering through. And, like I said, there was material from The Dead Light that didn’t feel quite appropriate for that album that we brought into these sessions. So I think it was those two things; the desire to forge more intense material coupled with this subconscious marination in the absolute bullshit that surrounds us.

As you said, you don’t realize you’re surrounded by these ideas until you reflect on them. You can try to stick your head in the sand and disengage from them, but you find you’re more susceptible in that sense and you don’t hear about what real people are going through. You only hear scandals that serve as propaganda because they don’t see people as people.

We like to think, particularly those in the extreme metal scene, that we’re more aware of what’s going on and that we’re more enlightened. But you can’t win. You’ll always be gamed by someone with more resources. So when you try to ignore it, as you said, you become more susceptible because you don’t notice the tools being used to weaponize your own thoughts. The more you reflect on it, the more you spiral downward, but the more you try to disengage from it, the more you become susceptible to being manipulated and sold it. You become a vessel to propagate or generate money for somebody else.

I had a feeling back in the days of Web 2.0, when user-generated content was coming into prevalence, that this sort of thing would democratize the internet. However, it’s done the opposite. It’s become even more enslaved to the hegemony. I’ve spent my time in digital marketing courses and with people who know the subtle ins and outs, and we’re being gamed more than you can possibly imagine. You’ll never be able to keep up or get ahead of it.

Metal is one of the few genres that feels untouched, in a way. It’s ignored so many trends that’ve spread to other genres. It’s rare that any metal band will make it into the mainstream, especially black metal. It’s like there’s an element of nihilism wondering how you can connect with others in a small subculture.

I actually think extreme metal will never make it to the mainstream, but there’s money at the upper echelon, and some of these bigger bands are doing quite well for themselves. The business and marketing element of it creeps it at a far lower level than a lot of people realize, I think. In many respects, it’s a business, and once you’ve peaked under that flagstone, it’s hard to put it back in the bottle. That can lead to some good things, like when you’re a wide-eyed teenager, and you’re seeing all these cool bands for the first time.

The problem you have is anytime something becomes older and established – well, let’s put it in perspective. Second-wave culty black metal is getting middle-aged. You look at the first wave stuff and it’s nearly 40. These bands are still going from that era. If you’ve been playing extreme metal since then, you don’t have much else in the way of a career. That’s fine if you’re 20 or 25 and you can bounce around and deal with the discomforts. But when you’re in your 50s and have kids and a partner, the business becomes more important because you have nothing else. You’re not going to walk into an office and start processing spreadsheets. I think there’s an existential crisis that comes with the genre, and there are other factors as well. There’s definitely a business element to metal.

Black metal’s musical developments don’t always transfer to other genres, so it’s harder to pivot to a new style in a new band if you’ve spent your time honing black metal.

It’s not just the skills; it’s the networking as well. I mean, a lot of decent black metal musicians are very capable, but are they going to be taken seriously? There’s still a stigma about black metal. Can you imagine if Katy Perry played with the bassist from Mayhem, for example? It’s not going to happen. There’s technically no reason why you couldn’t, but there’s a stigma. In that respect, it’s not transferable.

Then again, with extreme metal, you are a good musician, and you will be in demand because there are not as many people playing. But yeah, I’d said extreme metal still exists in its own little world. The stigma still hasn’t run its course. You occasionally see token gestures like Metallica headlining Glastonbury, but it’s a small field with those gestures.

It goes back to a quote you gave a few years ago in an interview about looking up in the night sky and seeing the stars and dreading your purpose in the scheme of the cosmos and modernity’s state. It’s disorienting because you wonder what you should be doing because you’re a spec on the planet.

You’re a spec that needs to eat. But, you can look up at the night sky and see how glorious and wondrous it is, and all you want to do is dig through the eternal truths of our existence, but then you get a text that says, “You need to come do your taxes.” There’s a duality to our existence and to the human experience. We have the ability to create and engage in feats of metaphysical philosophy and ask deep questions and ponder the solutions, but we’re also slaves to baseness and our whims. Maybe this album is an element of the anger at that duality. What is it to be human?

Does that concept present itself on Monument to Absence?

Quite possibly, if you want to get deep, each song on the album is looking at ways in which humans have tried to deal with the quandary of their own existence. You’ve got the hubris of kings and emperors forging massive monuments that crumple to dust. You’ve got people committing to religion but it’s just a front for partaking in their base whims and the patriarchy. You’ve got people who professed to seek truth, but you ask if they’re just hiding. So yeah, there’s a very human struggle to the album. And it is the only way to express it is through a wordless yell and anger at the futility of everything.

I wanted to talk about “Eschaton’s Gift” a bit, because the title refers to the biblical term for “the part of theology concerned with death, judgment, and the final destiny of the soul and of humankind.” Are you saying there’s something that comes with the end of existence?

It’s a sarcastic title, really. Every mainstream monotheist religion has eschatology to it. The idea is that the end of the world will have some judgment and that the religious followers will earn some surprises. The whole point of this track is that it’s infantile. It’s like Father Christmas bringing you presents. The point is that the gift of your much-yearned-for apocalypse is absolute oblivion. All these things are solidified into religious dogmas, and they reinforce hierarchies and controlling mechanisms. They incentivize people to come to places of worship and give cash because at the end of it all, they’ll get to shag 40 virgins.

I’m not picking on any particular religion, but they’re all praying for the end times when everyone outside of their club gets wiped out while they get presents and a massage. If you take a step back and try to analyze it, it’s clearly irrational. The way I try to express it is by portraying that, if this is what they want and what they think will make everything better, then go for it. But it isn’t. Make your time on Earth more valuable. I could talk about this for hours, but I don’t like the idea that, rather than choosing to behave in a moral manner, I’ll do it because if I don’t I’ll get beat up by some omnipotent, all-needing dad. But it’s like, why don’t you behave decently?

You hear that morality is a byproduct of monotheistic religion, but I just don’t buy that. Our species wouldn’t survive without mutual cooperation and the survival instinct. We’re driven by the need to foster children and social interaction, not by some ancient text that tells you how to behave or else you’ll get blasted.

That leads back into the question of what it means to be human. Is being human just adhering to principles that a gospel laid out because there’s where we derive our morality?

It’s an avenue of comfort for many people, and this album tries to express the conflict and concern about that, struggling to find meaning and identity and plenty of people find that through religion. I don’t want to say that belief and faith can’t lead to improved community involvement and a deeper feeling of purpose. I don’t want people to feel depressed and walk around feeling worthless. I’m not calling to that at all. I think that people who find faith and god talk about it and seem healed. I just feel that there are so many avenues of engaging morality and finding satisfaction and doing something satisfying for the sake of doing it without appealing to spirituality. Spiritually can take many forms, and it doesn’t necessarily need to appeal to a higher power.

The other problem we have is, as much as we think in 2023 that technology has driven us into the future, religion still has a massive hold on the culture. It’s still big business. The amount of money that the church has is staggering. As we know, money frames the debate, so you still see people propagate religion and its benefits. Someone with a lot of money is convincing you to buy into their thing, except instead of a product, it’s religion. If people need religion to help them pick through a confusing existence, think about how you carry yourself. Think about alternatives. Think about different worldviews and other ways to give meaning to life. If you want to be a committed Christian, get deeply involved in charity work. Volunteer at a food bank or something.

FEN has been around for two decades. Do you feel that you’ve reached a point with this project where you can articulate all your thoughts and feelings through your music?

It’s an important part of expression; certainly It’s taken on an identity of its own to the point where I have a responsibility. We started writing materials in 2005, so, Jesus Christ, it has been a long time, but that’s a good thing ‘cuz it still feels like a new band for me. We started this as a side project to get stuff out of our systems that didn’t fit with our other project at the time. It was the lights poking through the clouds. We didn’t put any expectations on it because we’d been gigging for around five years in the underground. We decided to play what we wanted to hear. I’ve always tried to maintain that principle—to play as organically as possible. As such, we have a responsibility not to veer dangerously off-course. Once you’re an established band, your records don’t exist in a vacuum. They exist in the context of what’s come before it. An album is just a chapter in the band’s existence. So, to me, it’s important that each chapter makes sense and that it works. Thankfully, this still feels fresh to us. It’s still something we all want to do.

Get the album here.