Crystal Castles (II)—an album that’s as abrasive as it is transcendent, and likely as misunderstood as the average Dadaist poem. Released in 2010, this self-titled second album from Crystal Castles is the audio equivalent of standing in a warehouse rave while simultaneously having a nervous breakdown. Truly, a sublime experience for those with taste, and an assault on the senses for those without.
Here, we find the duo, Alice Glass and Ethan Kath, descending deeper into their own nihilistic labyrinth of distorted synths, glitched-out beats, and that peculiar genre of despair only they seem to peddle. The album is a brooding, lo-fi electronica masterpiece—though I hesitate to use such a mainstream word as “masterpiece” here, as it feels too mundane for something so sublimely tormented. It flirts with chiptune, but not in the twee way you’d expect; instead, they dredge up these 8-bit sounds from some cyberpunk underworld where neon lights flicker ominously, and hope is but a dim, dying concept.
Let’s not pretend that Crystal Castles (II) is accessible. Oh no, no, no. This is an album that opens with “Fainting Spells,” a track that sounds like it was recorded in a haunted circuit board, with Alice Glass’s vocals glitching and wailing like a malfunctioning siren. It’s deliciously chaotic, yet somehow meditative in its own cacophonous way. This track alone is enough to weed out the casual listeners from the true aficionados of avant-garde auditory suffering.
Then we have “Celestica,” which—shockingly—is almost pleasant. It’s as if the duo allowed a sliver of light to sneak through the cracked glass. But don’t be fooled; beneath the shimmering synths and ethereal vocals lies a kind of melancholic fatalism. It’s the soundtrack of a beautiful apocalypse, a danceable dirge for the end of days. You can practically hear the sound of hipsters’ hearts breaking, wondering if it’s too mainstream to love this track.
And how could I forget “Doe Deer”? A track so abrasive it could strip paint off a wall. Clocking in at a brisk one minute and thirty-seven seconds, it’s a punkish, distorted blitzkrieg that feels like the musical equivalent of being thrown down a flight of stairs. Glorious, really. It’s as if they were trying to test the limits of our fragile ears, daring us to keep listening.
The true heart of Crystal Castles (II) lies in its standout tracks like “Baptism,” a frenetic electro-punk anthem that sounds like it’s fueled by raw voltage, and “Year of Silence,” which drowns you in ethereal despair with its sampled Sigur Rós vocals . “Suffocation” brings an almost ghostly allure, while “Violent Dreams” lulls you into a hypnotic trance, as if you're floating through some neon-drenched dystopia. Then there’s “Pap Smear,” a title that only Crystal Castles could pull off, with beats so aggressive they feel like a sonic assault. And finally, “I Am Made of Chalk” wraps it all up with a haunting, ambient sprawl that leaves you feeling perfectly unsettled. The only misstep? “Not In Love” — as if the addition of Robert Smith somehow diluted their beautiful chaos. Honestly, it could have been left out without a second thought.
Now, if there’s any other criticism to be leveled here, it’s that the album’s rawness might come off as “unrefined” to the uninitiated. But that, my dear friends, is the point. Anyone expecting crisp, polished electronica can go find solace in their sterile EDM playlists. Crystal Castles (II) is a gloriously abrasive middle finger to convention, a love letter to those of us who yearn for something darker, messier, and profoundly more anarchic.
In the end, Crystal Castles (II) is a masterpiece of anti-melodic electronica, a haunting hymn for those who find beauty in destruction. It’s not for everyone, but then again, nothing worth experiencing ever is. So, I raise my glass to Alice and Ethan—for this isn’t just an album, it’s an initiation into a world that most people simply won’t understand. And perhaps, that’s just as it should be.
Score: 9.1/10
- NPS