Black Swan – "From the End of Time"
13 Songs to Take You Away
"From the End of Time" by Black Swan feels wholesome—like a deep examination of a departed world. The album is packed with ethereal choirs, distorted piano echoes, and worn tape loops, crackling like fading memories, struggling to cope with all the bad stuff happening out there.
Black Swan's latest work feels like a slowly unfolding cinematic ride through the remnants of something once magnificent. And this is so much better than a series of individual tracks! The entire experience carries the solemn weight of a classical tune, enhanced by an unsettling sense of dystopian unease.
Like its predecessor, "Like Ghost" (2024), it has its narrative but isn't spoon-fed. The journey through the 13 songs unfolds at its own hypnotic pace. It's taking us through ominous hums before colliding with fragmented cassette wails or the distant rumble of decayed machinery. However, "From the End of Time" has a carrying heartbeat—faint yet relentless, pulsing through the dust like a sun dimmed by crimson smog.
A blend of classical elements and perfectly shaped dystopian ideas
"Overture" & "Dust"
The first song, "Overture," opens with an inspiring choral. A cinematic and Lynch-esk part follows before the piece slips away into the mist again, leaving us wondering in the unknown.
The next track, "Dust", introduces a ghostly organ motif. It flickers like a dying candle—breaking the dream state but never fully waking up. The record's first half focuses on delving through a fog, searching for clarity while sensing something sinister lurking beyond reach.
"Pseudotruth" & "New Gods"
Midway through, "Pseudotruth" escalates the slightly fearful foreboding—a mechanical loop springs to life, carrying the remnants of a disembodied voice buried in static, lost in transmission. Then comes "New Gods", flipping the script with a jittery, automated piano line that dances across the wreckage before dissolving into the eerie chime of rusted wind bells, as if recalling the ghosts of a bustling past.
"Endless Infinite"
Black Swan don't just toy with sound; a more profound critique is bubbling beneath it all—an observation of mankind's descent into blind consumerism, the erosion of independent thought, and the slow decay of ethics. Yet, even amid the bleakness, this piece of art has a strange, blissful beauty. "Endless Infinite", for example, comes with celestial chords. They are swirling atop a warm, glowing bass drone. Overall, the piece offers a fleeting glimpse of solace while the story that connects everything still unravels.
"Wings of Oblivion" & "A Broken Hope"
Similarly, "Wings of Oblivion" and "A Broken Hope" are steeped in an almost painful sweetness, provoking contemplation—redemption or just another mirage? Untethered harmonies drift through layers of tape hiss, leading to the album's most heart-wrenching stretch. By the final act, salvation feels like a lost cause—the winds turn bitter, the gears grind to a halt, and the sky chokes on soot.
"Nightlands" & "Lost Futures"
As the end approaches, "Nightlands" delivers a suffocating haze of gas mask breaths and desolate harmonies—a last gasp from the abyss. Finally, "Lost Futures" closes the album on an ambiguous note but ties it back to the beginning. You are left sitting in the wreckage, pondering the slow-motion demise of something once cherished. It's a proper gut check—there's no neat resolution, just a haunting, lingering grace that remains with you long after the needle lifts.
This album isn't for those seeking a straightforward chill listen. But if you're looking for an immersive trip through decay and rebirth, wrapped in some of the most achingly gorgeous sound design you'll hear this year, "From the End of Time" is a must. An absolute stunner.
Written, recorded, produced, and mixed by Black Swan. Mastered at Ambient Mountain House by James Bernard. Design and layout by Black Swan. Marketed, distributed, and phonograph copyright: Past Inside the Present. Pressed, manufactured, and assembled in Warsaw, Poland.