Dreadnought A Wake In Sacred Waves

On its brilliant boundary-annihilating upcoming third full-length A Wake in Sacred Waves — out vial Sailor Records in October — Denver quartet Dreadnought delivers a deftly executed, completely entrancing sonic amalgamation that calls to mind everything from Bergtatt-era Ulver, Wolves in the Throne Room, and Kate Bush to Slint, June of ’44, and Sabbath at its psychedelic doom-iest. This particular brand of Rocky Mountain High has got the raining-fire-in-the-sky blast beats, guttural vocals, and fuzzed out nasty riffs, yes, but also serious post-punk groove and softer-than-a-lullabye ethereal croons, mandolin, flute, and saxophone.

“Each album is loosely based on an element,” guitarist/vocalist/flautist Kelly Shilling explains in accompanying press materials. “Lifewoven was earth, Bridging Realms was ether, and this is our water album. You could think of them like Zelda temples. We wanted to make this a little bit darker and heavier because we were going through heavier parts of our lives. This record tells a story about the process of life and death. A sea creature evolves into an apex predator, takes over everything, and then falls from grace. It mirrors humanity’s own existential struggle.”