Bent - Renascence

Bent
Renascence
self-released

One man German act Bent isn’t in a rush. The project had been mothballed for over a decade, and even after being reactivated in 2022 it took another four years for a number of singles and EPs to flesh out Renascence, Niko Martens’ first solo LP under the Bent handle as far as we can tell, despite demos of some of this material dating back to 2000. That glacial pace of development is actually quite befitting a record of Renascence‘s cast, which languidly delves into the most harmonic and crystalline forms of electro-industrial and dark electro.

Martens’ other project, Breakdown, having seen releases out on Electro Aggression Records is instructive, as Renascence fits in well with that label’s yen for layered work which prioritizes atmosphere and mood above all else. A few minutes into opener “Lucid Dream” and you’ll hear the parallels: resonant chimes and vibes take the leads atop rounded bass and pad programming, with sparse, echoing drum programming fleshing out a mid-tempo number evoking subterranean caverns. If the likes of yelworC, Placebo Effect, mid-period Pitchfork or early Necro Facility come to mind with that description, you’re not far off. But even more than those acts on their most sanguine outings, Bent isn’t afraid to hold to the spacey, drippy vibe for the entirety of an LP.

That commitment to a very specific vibe might be a dealbreaker for those looking for more aggressive fare, but if the subtle colouring in Bent’s instrumentation is your cup of tea, attending to its variations across Renascence is its own reward. There’s the Kraftwerk-goes-Baroque circuit of “Iridium Flare”, a track named “Liquid Bells” which sounds exactly like you’d imagine based on the title, and homages to the more mournful, echoing moments in Puppy’s catalog on “At This Place” and “CrackDown” where bent’s established echoing arpeggios run against tight rock drum programming with industrial wheezes and wails winding between.

Dark electro’s something of an odd niche in the post-industrial diaspora wherein the more mellow a release is the more it might be said to be for serious genre heads. If that paradox gives you pause, Renascence‘s lack of heavily hammered riffs or beats might leave you wanting. But if the home cooking combination of atmospherics, slowly developing compositions, and icy harmonies which spread outward from your spine sounds like a welcome antidote to two dimensional club bangers, you’ll have a blast getting lost in it. Recommended.

Buy it.